#and if you dare critique it you risk end up being one of the people screenshoted and mocked for daring to care about something cringe

[nellasbookplanet]

Isn't it funny how today it’s pretty common belief on here that the idea of 'cringe' and shaming of people who like 'cringe' things is bad. That the big fandoms back in the day that people like to make fun of - superwholock and john green books and twilight and homestuck and whatever was popular at the time - certainly had elements very deserving of critique, but how that critique largely drowned under people pointing and laughing at, the mostly teen girl, fans. Like, we are pretty agreed that this was bad, right? That it’s cruel to actual people and makes it difficult to have genuine conversations about the actual flaws of the media and fandoms in question, right??

And yet here we are today and I see people doing the exact same thing to newer fandoms with the defense that the fans are cringe or, if you're trying to be all moral about it, problematic and possibly evil for liking a popular media. Like, I don’t care about reylo or our flag means death or taylor swift or romantasy novels to any particular extent. I don’t have a horse in this race. But I keep seeing their fans treated as acceptable targets for harrassment or bullying. Posts talking about how immoral they are and then their screenshoted 'proof' is mostly just. Women being passionate about a thing that they love, or god forbid daring to defend it or being bummed about everyone else harrassing them. And I think it's kind of scary how we keep repeating this cycle of designating a media as inherently problematic, therefore all of its fans are problematic, therefore they are deserving of every ounce of mocking and public shaming they get.

[leedollop]

I totally agree, but I wanna hear your personal defense of A/dam.

To be honest, I think Adam got so much hate because he was paired against someone like C/harlie, and I think it's very easy to want to side with C/harlie because of what she represents. C/harlie represents child like hope, optimism, and wonder, and, against her, I think it's easy to see A/dam, even with his boyish charm, as representing adult like cynicism. (Plus C/harlie defending the fan favorites).

But, it really isn't that way if you look at it from A/dam's perspective. Imagine you've been doing exterminations because you love the people in Heaven and you've been led to believe the people in Hell are like, the worst of the worst and are threatening Heaven's safety. Like yeah, if I thought everyone was pretty much all like V/alentino down there who were now whining about getting their just desserts, I'd also be singing Hell Is Forever and calling exterminations entertainment! I think it's unreasonable to expect A/dam to have that perspective changed by a few doodles, especially when C/harlie never gives the context of what her people are really like, just that they're her people, so of course she'll defend them.

To be fair to C/harlie, pushing her explanation off until the last minute could lead to pressure that doesn't make people good at explaining things (unintentional on A/dam's part), but she could have been bonding with A/dam that whole time instead of making annoyed faces at him, which probably would have helped A/dam understand her perspective more. C/harlie being impatient is her biggest character flaw, and I'll be interested to see how they address that in s2.

Plus, I think it's worth mentioning that C/harlie didn't present that well in court either (to be very clear, I adore C/harlie as a character, I think she has a great heart and means no harm, I just think, again, she often puts the cart before the horse). My biggest critique is that she picked A/ngel D/ust, but she never informed the court of the situation A/ngel D/ust is in, which stopped them from sympathizing with A/ngel the same way she or us the audience have. Even when A/dam and L/ute were making comments about A/ngel's career, C/harlie didn't give them the context of overlords or the fact V/al is an abusive piece of crap specifically that overpowers A/ngel.

Like yes, C/harlie doesn't know the full extent of it, but she saw enough at the studio that day to argue A/ngel is in a state of duress. Yes, the court did see A/ngel's conversation with V/al at the club but, without the context of how Hell works, to them it probably just sounded like two sinners having a power dispute, and they could have just thought the chain was a part of V/al's powers rather than an overlord thing.

It's ironic A/dam and V/ox ended up being such good friends in my and my friend's AU, because I feel like they both get hated on in the fandom for similar reasons. Mostly that people overly side with one character and refuse to see either of their sides of the story.

For example, I feel like people are so protective of A/ngel D/ust that any support for him outside of just outright "I love you and I hate V/al" is ignored and diminished. So people see V/ox putting on an act around V/al and, instead of noticing V/ox protecting A/ngel, people just latch onto the fact that V/ox wasn't yelling at V/al like "HOW DARE YOU HURT MY BOI, I HATE YOU V/AL!" to paint him as just as terrible as V/al. They also then ignore V/ox's obvious annoyance at V/al, and V/al literally throwing a glass at V/ox and breaking his phone, showing V/ox isn't safe from V/al's wrath either, nor is he in a great situation. Yet he risked his ass to calm V/al down anyway.

I think a lot of people forget killing sinners for those in Hell isn't that simple, and in V/ox's situation, even with angelic steel he'd have to make a plan so it couldn't be traced back to him (I doubt V/alentino is the only overlord he'd have to worry about in that scenario). So yeah no, V/ox isn't going to directly oppose V/al's actions for his own safety and he's not going to beat the jerk to a pulp or willy nilly decide to kill him because, if he does and it doesn't work, he's putting himself and A/ngel in way more danger than it's worth.

Sorry, I got very passionate there lol. My point is I tend to write things as less black and white, especially concerning those two characters, because I think putting yourself in their shoes makes a lot of their behavior make sense. Which isn't saying the exterminations were the right thing to do because I see people swing things all the way back around that way, but that A/dam's viewpoints on it were understandable if we dissect why he hates Hell and it's people in the first place. Which is why in my AU he's given a chance to see the truth and, when he does, it's a very quick turn around.

[loren91]

This blog is kinda new and I haven’t done a post like this before, but as someone who works with film, I have a lot of thoughts, and I’d like to go on a little filmmaking rant regarding Young Royals, or more precisely, the critique of Wilhelm’s character.

The past few years there’s been a trend in films to have the main protagonist be strong, flawless and morally perfect from start to finish. I’ve never really understood this, because that way you are actively blocking any opportunity for good character development. If you want a character to be interesting or undergo some kind of journey of growth, they have to start out in a somewhat bad place. As a viewer, I honestly find it a bit insulting too, because a filmmaker who doesn’t dare to take risks or write nuanced characters are essentially saying “I don’t trust my audience”, and that’s how you end up with boring films.

Now in regards to Young Royals and Wilhelm, I keep seeing critiques popping up across platforms, like “Wilhelm is selfish”/“he’s a bad person”/“he’s toxic”, even to the point of saying that the whole show is toxic. And in a sense, yeah, Wilhelm is kind of a bad person, and you can give all kinds of explanations for it. He’s a teen and a product of the environment he was brought up in. Considering the fact that both Wilhelm and August have grown up in the same kind of toxic upper class-elite culture, I’d be more surprised if he wasn’t at least a little bit of a douchebag (There’s a reason why they gave him an anxiety disorder, to make him more relatable and worthy of our sympathy) There’s a lot of expectations on him, from his family and his peers. And he’s terrified of the consequences if he were to break those expectations, that’s why he’s so complicit. But most importantly, his flaws are there for narrative reasons. 

If you want to figure out if a piece of work is morally questionable or not, you have to look beyond just one character. The million dollar question here is, are the characters rewarded despite bad behaviour?

Let me set an example here with 1984’s Ghostbusters (an odd one I know, but hear me out!) The romantic subplot between Peter and Dana is incredibly poorly written. When Dana shows up at their office, asking for help, Peter doesn't take her seriously and only attempts to flirt. He also stalks her and tries to pressure her into dating him, and despite her saying no several times over, he doesn't back off. Then at the end, when Peter and his team have saved the city from the big evil ghost, he thinks he deserves Dana as a reward. He kisses her (without checking for consent) and the film tries to frame this as romantic. Peter is rewarded despite his bad behaviour. I don’t care about anyone's nostalgia for this film, it’s gross af.

Now, let’s compare this to YR. Wilhelm is constantly going back and forth on his relationship with Simon. He keeps pushing him away, only to pull him in moments later when he’s too weak to resist his feelings any longer. Simon has a lot of patience with Wilhelm because he understands that he’s in a complicated situation. Also, red flags are difficult to see when you’ve got those rose tinted glasses on..

However, all of this is there really only to build up for one scene, the break up behind Simon’s house in ep 6. Wilhelm has hurt Simon several times over at this point, and he’s exhausted. But Wilhelm tries to ask for his reward anyway. 

“I’m really sorry, this was the only way. But, this doesn’t have to change what we’ve got. We’re still us.”

But Simon calls him out for it.

“You expect everything to be on your terms. You need to figure out what you want… You need to do it on your own, I don’t want to be anyone’s secret.”

Effectively telling Wilhelm that his days of avoiding responsibility and taking people for granted are over. Simon won’t stand for it anymore. Wilhelm is being punished for his bad behaviour.

Wilhelm is the main protagonist of the story, meaning we see the story progress mainly from his perspective. It’s really important to remember though, that just because a character is the protagonist doesn’t mean that they’re the hero. Wilhelm is certainly not a hero, but it’s still his journey of growth and self discovery, that’s what makes the story interesting.

We get to see just how much these boys love each other and how happy they are together, but their situation is too complicated and they are terrified, which leads to Wilhelm making some questionable choices. The script however makes sure that the characters pay for their less than ideal actions, and not just with Wilhelm. 

-When Simon attacks August because he refuses to pay, Rosh makes sure to call him out. 

-When Sara finds out he’s been seeing their dad behind her back and lying to her about it for months, she calls him out for it. 

-When August kisses Sara in the stables, Felice breaks up with him.

-When Wilhelm finds out August recorded the video, he disowns him.

And so on.

All of this stuff is really crucial for their development as characters. Learning through their mistakes. That’s why the last hug and love confession outside the church is so damn important, it’s concrete evidence of Wilhelm’s character development. He’s far from done, but that’s why we’re getting season 2! It’s most likely gonna be a rather bumpy ride, but the boy just needs more time. Who knows, maybe he’ll end up being the hero of the story eventually.

YR is so well done and I could go on for hours about this kind of stuff, but that will have to do for now, bye 😅

[schrijverr]

Life Is Ours, We Live It Our Way 8

Chapter 8 out of 18

Genderqueer Stevie with platonic soulmates Robin and Eddie living their best queer life.

In this chapter, Will comes out to everyone around thanksgiving. Meanwhile, Stevie’s parents are moving away and Stevie goes to find a new place to move into with Eddie and Robin to as Christmas draws closer.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: Stevie’s childhood, misgendering that comes of not being out, nightmares

~~~~~~~~~

Finding a Home

Thanksgiving arrives sooner than expected. She’s been working, looking for houses or apartments and the time just flew by until it’s right there, looming around the corner.

He goes over to the Munson house on Wednesday, since he doesn’t want to risk his parents coming home, because they want to try being a normal family for a night. She isn’t falling for that again, it’s not Christmas and she isn’t twelve anymore. He has plans with people, who actually care about her this year and he’s not missing out.

Together with Eddie and Robin, he braves the last minute shoppers. Something that becomes more challenging, since Eddie and Robin are fucking children. When they get there Eddie climbs in the cart, immediately inviting Robin, who joins him without question or hesitation.

The two grin up at her and demand to be pushed. Stevie naturally puts up the usual protests before giving in, facing all the stares of the Hawkins townsfolk as Eddie dramatically directs him, while Robin critiques his produce choices.

They are definitely getting judged and Stevie’s arms are tired due to the weight. But the three of them are laughing and just having fun and Stevie can’t find it within herself to mind.

They tackle the cooking together – and by that Stevie means that he has taken over the kitchen with Robin cutting vegetables and Eddie keeping up with the dishes – while Wayne sleeps so he can be awake for dinner.

In the end, the dinner isn’t as extravagant as it could have been, but on a budget with only one person, who knows what they’re doing. Stevie calls it a success.

As they sit down, they all cheers, before Wayne gruffly says: “In this household we don’t go around saying thanks, alright. It sounds stupid. It’s not fucking Sunday church.”

“Amen,” Eddie grins, digging in. Then he groans: “Stevie, you are an angel. How did you do this? This is amazing!”

Stevie blushes and ducks his head, not aided at all by Robin and Wayne, who also praise her for the dinner. It’s nice to be appreciated for what he does. For his accomplishments and attributions to be acknowledged. Not for the first time is she glad she’s letting go of his parents. He found something much better.

Since they don’t know Wayne that well, Stevie expected it to be a little awkward. However, she shouldn’t have feared, because Wayne is a riot. He’s a little quiet, but the comments he makes are funny and dry, plus he has so so much blackmail on Eddie that she and Robin gladly collect.

Their fun dinner is interrupted by the phone ringing.

Stevie’s head shoots up and he’s out of his chair before she knows it. She hurries to the phone and explains: “It could be Will. It’s important,” when he sees their confused faces. He picks up the phone and breathlessly says: “This is the Munson residence. Steve Harrington speaking,” and he only cringes a little bit. It has been a while since she said that name.

“Steve!” Will’s voice greets him and he sounds excited, which loosens a bit of anxiety in her chest that she hadn’t noticed before now. “I did it!” Will exclaims. “I told them. Mom, Hopper, Jonathan, all of them! El was there and she was glaring the whole time, daring them to say something bad. But they didn’t! They were all cool.”

“I’m so happy for you,” Stevie tells him and she can feel the smile that is breaking up his face. “I am so happy. You deserve to have that. Thank you for calling.”

“No problem,” Will assures him, the timidness coming back. “I don’t think I could have done it without you. So thank you.”

“Hey, of course, I’m here for you,” Stevie replies. Then asks: “I’m here with Eddie and Robin and Eddie’s uncle, Wayne. What do you want me to tell them? I did get up in the middle of dinner, but I can make something up?”

“Would they be cool?” Will asks softly.

“Yeah, they’d be cool,” Stevie answers.

“You can tell them.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I want to come out to the others anyway and this way I’ll have adult support when I do,” Will tells her. “I’m giving you permission to tell them. It’s okay.”

“Okay,” Stevie says. “Then I’ll go celebrate this success with them and you should do the same with your family. You earned it.”

“I will,” Will replies, but before they can hang up, he says: “Wait, Steve?”

“Yes?”

“What should I tell them here?” Will asks. “I mean it’s a bit random that I called you after this if you don’t know… you know?”

And it’s a true testament of how much Will has grown that he asks. That he even thinks of asking, because Steve sure hadn’t thought of it, just wanted Will to call if it should go bad and know the moment it had gone right.

“Oh, uhm, I haven’t thought of that,” he admits. “You think me being an awesome babysitter who noticed you being down will be believed?”

“Sure, mom already thinks you’re the best and I’m sure El will back it, which makes it believable to Hopper,” Will says casually, like he isn’t overwhelming Stevie with the fact that Joyce thinks she is the best.

“That’s good,” he manages. “Tell them hi from me.”

“You do the same,” Will replies and then they hang up.

Stevie returns to the dinner with a giddy smile, coming face to face with three curious looks, which is very well deserved. Robin, blunt as ever, asks: “So are you going to tell us what the hell that was or not? Because you’re usually more on other people’s cases about staying at the table until we’re done eating – which is a total mom move, by the way – and this-”

“Robin,” Stevie cuts her off. “I asked Will to call me, because – and he gave me permission to tell you guys, all of you – he just came out to his family. And they were all cool!” he practically squeals at the end.

It takes a moment, before the others register what he has said, but then Eddie is out of his seat with a cheer, dramatically sweeping Stevie of her feet as he spins around. With both of Stevie’s feet back on the ground, Eddie sheepishly says: “Sorry, but Joyce and Hopper are cool! Baby Byers is safe and has an amazing family.”

“No, I get it, dude,” Stevie assures him, not at all minding what has just happened and unable to deny the own grin on his face for the same reason.

Robin is also happy, though less touchy about it, instead toasting to cool parents, which she aims at Wayne, who looks bashful, but happy about it. Then surprises them all by saying: “I mean, it’s good the kid has his folks. I know how it can be to not have that, it’s why I took Eddie in.”

And both Robin’s and Stevie’s eye bulge out a bit at that, both having heard that Eddie got kicked out at age 14 for being gay by his alcoholic mother. And here Wayne is implying he took Eddie in because he went through the same thing.

“Don’t look so surprised,” Wayne grins at them, finding amusement in their surprise. “We queers don’t just disappear when we get too old to go to clubs.”

“You are my hero,” Robin whispers, her eyes big with awe and Stevie quickly nods her agreement as Eddie snorts: “You get it, Robbie.”

After that it’s even more of a hoot. They’re celebrating Will being okay and being comfortable with each other. Stevie isn’t out to Wayne about his gender, but the man seems fine with sticking to ‘kid’ for all of them and Stevie can handle a few ‘Steve’s’ here and there. It’s much better than any other thanksgiving.

When dinner is done, they’re all pleasantly buzzed, even Stevie has had two glasses of wine, which is enough for him after the semi-dry spell after Starcourt.

Wayne doesn’t have work that night, but plans to stay up to keep his rhythm. Of course that means that they’re also staying up very late, despite the fact that they all have work in the morning, to keep him company.

They play ‘alphabet’, which Wayne and Eddie claim is a trailer park classic, since you only need a piece of paper and a pen. The point of the game is to pick a category and write a word for each letter, if you have nothing it’s 0 points, the same as someone else is 1 point and something unique is 2 points.

Stevie and Wayne are getting their asses kicked by Eddie and Rob, who are both way more wordy than them. However, they find a camaraderie by complaining about their favorite people, who are so language-y when they aren’t.

It’s nearing 2:00 AM when they finally do go to sleep, all falling in bed exhausted, barely making it through getting dressed for bed and brushing their teeth.

Not even two hours later, Stevie is being woken. It’s not himself that’s pulling him out of sleep, but an urgent hand shaking him. She blinks a few times and grumbles: “Huh?”

“Stevie,” Robin whispers, her voice shakier than usual.

And Stevie knows that voice, eyes immediately opening as he asks: “Hey, hey, are you okay? Did you have a nightmare?”

Robin nods, biting her lip to stop herself from tearing up even more as she says: “It was in the bunker, you were tied to me, but this time you didn’t wake up. God, I was there tied to your corpse and I- I couldn’t do anything.”

“Oh, Robs,” she sighs sympathetically as Robin starts tearing up. “Do you want me to hug you or do you need to be free right now?”

“Hug,” she chokes and Stevie doesn’t waste a second in pulling her close to his chest, surprised Eddie hasn’t woken up, though she hasn’t moved that much as she gathers Robin in his arms and lets her rest on his chest.

He rubs her back and whispers soft reassurances until she falls asleep again, before joining her in slumber, too tired to try and stay awake for longer than he has to.

When she wakes up again, it’s to the piercing sound of an alarm that has all three of them groaning as they curl deeper into the sheets. Eddie braves the world, slapping the alarm until it stops, his high tolerance meaning he has the smallest hangover.

And it’s Eddie who corrals the other two out of bed, the three of them getting ready in a daze. They drink their orange juice and pop painkillers, before spooning up a bowl of cereal and brushing their teeth as they shower. Wayne just looks amused, before wishing them a good day as he heads up to bed.

By the time they have to leave they look like functioning human beings.

That evening they all collect at Eddie’s place again for DnD. Stevie is picking up Will and Dustin, but as he pulls up to the Byers house, El is waiting as well. Stevie raises a brow at her and she explains: “Max and I are going to have a girls night at Eddie’s house.”

Stevie nods knowingly. Will plans to come out and El is there to be his backup. It’s cute how much the siblings care for each other.

Will comes out of the house after her, surprisingly followed by Joyce. She walks up to Stevie’s window and he furrows her brows, asking: “Is everything okay?”

“Mom,” Will groans in embarrassment as he throws himself into the back next to El.

Joyce shakes her head and smiles at Stevie, the fondness and love there nearly taking her breath away. Joyce says: “Thank you so much for talking to Will. I don’t know or care what you said, but I am so glad you made him comfortable. Thank you.”

She sounds so sincere and it makes Stevie want to cry. Joyce sounds proud of him. Him. She has always tried so hard to make her own parents proud, but it seems like making other people’s parents proud is just easier for him. And it also makes Stevie feel much better, her own parents suck.

He gives her a watery smile, hoping to come across as less affected than he is, as she says: “It’s no problem. I’m just happy to give those kids a safe space after everything.”

“You’re a good kid, Steve,” Joyce tells him, cupping his cheek for a second, before letting go and wishing them a fun night.

Stevie drives away, still a bit in a daze. After a second, Will leans over to the front and asks: “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that,” Stevie snaps out of it. “I totally meant to ask you that. How are you feeling, baby Byers?”

“I’m great,” Will smiles a blinding smile. Happiness looks good on the kid. “I’m gonna tell the others tonight, I figured they’d be cool after you and Eddie, but El’s my backup just in case.”

“We’ll also be your backup,” Stevie assures him.

Will grins like a little shit and says: “I don’t know. You don’t have a very good track record of winning fights.”

“Uhm, I won against that one Russian, thank you very much,” Stevie retorts, offended. “Dustin can’t take that from me, he’s the one who said it. I win fights.”

“Sure, sure,” Will teases, but his eyes are kind, even if El hides a giggle behind her hand.

“Kids,” Steve rolls her eyes, stopping for the Henderson house.

Stevie is teased for the rest of the drive, though Dustin defends his honor over the Russian. They arrive back at Eddie’s to find the others already there. He’d dropped Robin off first before getting the others so Eddie had a bit of a head start in gathering the children.

Max is also there and Stevie asks Eddie: “Did you know about girls night? Or did the twerps keep you out of the loop as well?”

“They kept me out of the loop,” Eddie grins. “Little shit showed up at my doorstep with her skateboard a minute before you.”

“Course,” Stevie snorts. Max lives in the same neighborhood, since both she and Eddie got a new house from the government after Vecna. The only reason they bring her home whenever she comes is because they want none of the kids out there after dark. Especially not alone.

El and Max disappear into the house together and soon they hear Robin yell: “Stevie come save me from you children! I’m not made for nail polish.”

Eddie and Stevie laugh as Eddie goes to set up the game, while Stevie rushes to save Robin, who is trying to disappear into a corner with Max and El around her, brandishing nail polish like it’s a threat.

When he appears in the doorway, Robin dramatically exclaims: “Stevie, my hero, my beloved dingus, here to save me!”

Only for Max and El to turn around and immediately pout at her, as Max says: “You can’t let Robin use girlfriend privileges. We need fresh nails to do.”

“Please,” El adds, nodding very seriously as if this is a matter of grave importance.

“Don’t let the children with their sad pleading eyes win,” Robin protest. “I know you’re a pushover, but you’re supposed to be on my side. Soulmates, remember? Come on, Stevie, you know I hate nail polish.”

And it is true that she always picks off the nail polish if she doesn’t remove it. She just doesn’t like the texture of it on her nails. Though some days she gives in to the kids’ whims. However, today is no such day.

“Come on girls, let Robin go,” Stevie claps his hands, before resting them on her hips. “She said no, respect that. You have your own nails to paint.”

Both grumble a bit as they let Robin go, as El pouts: “But today is a good day for Max and we wanted to try some new designs, but our nails are too tiny. Look her hands don’t even shake,” and Max dutifully holds up her hands, the nails painted messily, obviously done by herself on a worse day.

Stevie’s heart aches for the girl. She has always been so independent and went through something very traumatic that forced her to rely on others. Max has been so good about it and right now a thing she loves doing is taken from her, even as she asks for it.

Coming to a decision, he says: “You can paint my nails if you want, but you have to throw my dice for me when I ask. If I let you, this has to be a team effort, okay?”

The two light up and Max checks: “Really?”

“You two have remover right?” Stevie shrugs, not wanting to show how thrilled she is at the prospect of getting his nails painted. They nod. “Then sure, go ahead.”

El and Max cheer as they go grab their stuff and set up around Stevie’s usual chair, explaining to the confused DnD players what they’re doing. And when Stevie comes back, Erica asks: “I could have been bullying you into letting me paint your nails all this time?”

Stevie laughs at how offended she sounds and she shrugs: “Sure.”

“See, Lucas, there are cool older guys,” she says to her brother, gesturing at Stevie, who takes a second not to reply to the guy comment. It never really bothered him before, but it seems that the more aware of it she is, the more he notices.

“Hey, I already get bullied enough for you to paint my nails,” Lucas protests, before looking to Stevie and uncomfortably adding: “Not that it’s like bad or anything, but-”

“It’s okay, Sinclair, I was on the basketball team too, you know,” he informs him.

“Yeah,” Lucas says, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. “I’m not anymore, though.”

“You mentioned wanting to try cross country, right?” Stevie replies, remembering it again as she sits down and positions his hands in such a way that Max has full access to the right, while El can easily reach his left.

“I do,” Lucas tells him. “I’m gonna try out next semester, figured with all the running for our lives we’ve been doing, I’d be good at it.”

The comments gets a few laughs, the kind that only they can muster at their own shared miserable trauma.

“How are you going to play without hands?” Mike notes, observing his girlfriend and Max with interest.

“Well, my two little helpers are going to throw for me and it’s not like they’ll be putting nail polish in my mouth,” Stevie shrugs. “I don’t know if you noticed, Wheeler, but DnD isn’t a very active game.”

“I don’t know about that, Stevie,” Eddie grins as he plops down on his seat as if it’s still his throne, practically splaying himself over it. “I think this part will get your blood pumping, it’s quite the scare.”

“Sure, Eds,” Stevie rolls her eyes, but can’t help but be interested in what adventure the DM will lead them on now. So, he buckles down alongside the others as they start the game.

He knows Will is planning to come out, but the kid hasn’t made a move to do so, therefore Stevie assumes he’s waiting to be more comfortable to be ready. So, she doesn’t say anything and just smiles encouragingly whenever their eyes meet.

It’s during their break that an opportunity arises. They’re naturally talking about thanksgiving, with Mike complaining: “Nancy was gone for the almost entire time to hang out with Jonathan. And it’s not like I missed her that much, but mom did and whenever she was home it was constantly the Nancy-show. It’s just annoying.”

Stevie could hear that Mike secretly does miss his sister, just doesn’t want to admit it yet. He feels bad for the kid and hopes he comes out of puberty a bit more willing to talk about his emotions and feel them. Much like Stevie has. Hm, maybe he should talk to the kid sometime.

“I mean, Jonathan could have been around more maybe, but when he got there he was fully there, you know. It was fun. And I can’t really blame him with Nancy being in an entirely different state than him,” Will shrugs.

“Whatever,” Mike huffs, crossing his arms, though he seems to consider Will’s words anyway.

“So you had a nice thanksgiving, Will?” Eddie asks, fully knowing that Will had an amazing thanksgiving and no one will ever taking that from him.

Luckily, Will recognizes the opening for what it is and says: “Yeah, I, uhm- I came out as gay to my family and they were all cool.”

Immediately the room hushes. Will’s sexuality has always been something the other boys tiptoed around, knowing but never speaking about it, so it shocks them for a second to have it out in the open.

However, having learned from the other times people have come out, Dustin is quick to say: “That’s so cool, man. I’m happy for you.”

“Yeah, congrats,” Lucas claps him on the shoulder.

“Uh, yeah, thanks for telling us. That’s cool,” Mike adds, looking a bit like a deer in headlights.

Will melts into the positive reaction of his friends, beaming when he meets Stevie’s eyes again, who smiles back at him equally brightly. Everyone deserves acceptance and seeing it on Will is amazing, because he does most of all.

Afterwards the group teases their friend, asking if Will the Wise will finally use his charisma stats to flirt them into places with the hot guards. Will looks trapped between embarrassed and delighted at the jokes.

It’s a nice atmosphere that hangs over the table. This group has been through a lot together and it has built an unbroken bond. However, seeing that bond tested and succeeding, with all its members completely comfortable to be themselves is a special type of beauty.

And yeah, Stevie might not be 100% herself, but he doesn’t care that much right now. He has people where he can be herself and that’s enough for her for now. Someday she might tell the twerps, but she has only just started to find himself. He wants a little more time. A little more privacy to experiment further. A place to not be afraid of the rumbling of an expensive motor that announces the arrival of hateful people, who go again in a few days, leaving an off kilter and sometimes more broken Stevie behind.

So, he ignores that part and focuses on the feeling of family around him. She can deal with the old name and few ‘dudes’ or ‘mans’ thrown around. This is good enough.

Nancy had gone on a date with Jonathan that night, but offered to drive a few of the kids home. So, when the game is done, she’s waiting outside to take Mike, El, Will and the Sinclairs with her.

It’s still a bit awkward between them after everything, but Stevie loves her as a friend and he is interested in how it’s going with both of them. So, when she opens the door, she just smiles and says: “Hey, Nance.” He yells, “Move it, shitheads, your ride is here,” then turns back to Nancy, “So, how’s college? Like you thought it’d be?”

She chats a bit about her classes, before asking Stevie how things have been here and Stevie is more than happy to catch her up on most things. She leaves out all the coming outs, not knowing if she heard about Will and not willing to come out himself or out Eddie. Still, he can fill quite a bit with the antics of her favorite kids and people.

By the time the kids come trudging by reluctantly, not wanting to leave their friends behind, they haven’t covered much, but quite something for idle talk. Nancy surprises him by saying: “You look happier, Steve. I’m glad.”

The words surprise him for a second, then she can’t help but smile as he says: “I am. I really am. You do too. College is a good look on you.”

Nancy smiles too and nods: “It is good for me. I know Hawkins has it’s good sides too, but it’s really nice to get out of here.”

“Nah, I get it,” Stevie assures her. “You were always meant for more.”

At that Nancy’s soft smile turns into a grin, ducking her head a bit. Then she’s calling goodbye and herding the kids to the car.

Once she’s gone, Dustin appears at his side, scaring the shit out of him. He looks at Stevie with a frown and asks: “You don’t still secretly have a thing for her while dating Robin, right? Because that would be a dick move.”

Stevie groans at Dustin’s audacity and ego. He sends a little look at the sky, then turns to Dustin and says: “I don’t have a thing for Nance, alright. I let that go a long time ago. I wouldn’t do that to a partner and I don’t like that you think I would.”

“I wasn’t implying that,” Dustin quickly says, eyes growing wide. “You just seemed close and friendly suddenly.”

“Henderson, Dustin, we are still friends. After everything of course we’re close, but we’re nothing other than friends,” Stevie tells him. “You’re friends with Max, Erica, El, right? It’s like that. We saw shit together and right now we’re friends.”

Dustin considers it then nods: “That makes sense. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just try to stop the habit of digging into people’s love lives, I know it’s interesting, but that shit’s private for a reason,” Stevie replies. “I mean what if you started pressuring Eddie or Will about a girl like you did me with Robin. They would have been very uncomfortable.”

“Oh, I never thought about that,” Dustin admits, a bit sheepishly.

“That’s why I’m telling you,” Stevie says. “You can’t be blamed for being oblivious, dude. Now, have you grabbed your shit?”

“Yup.”

“Good,” Stevie nods, then calls back: “Oi, Rob, you need a ride? Red, get a move on, we’re leaving soon.”

Robin yells back: “Calm you tits, dingus. We’re almost done with cleaning up the nail polish. And I need a ride. My mom will kill me if I sleep over somewhere else again. She’s afraid for my virtue, I think.”

The idea of Robin loosing her virtue to Stevie or Eddie is a hilarious concept, so he bursts out laughing. And he can hear Eddie laughing too in the distance, though it comes closer as the man walks towards her.

He leans against the door frame next to Stevie and asks: “You coming back after?”

“I could?” Stevie asks, because anything sounds better than going home right now. He hates that house and is glad that he can move out if he finds something. She desperately wants to get out of that place.

“Course, princess,” Eddie smiles. “Mi casa es su casa and all that.”

“You guys are having a sleepover without me?” Dustin asks, offended at the conversation going on right in front of him. The two had forgotten about Dustin for a second there, since they’re so comfortable around each other. It just feels natural.

“Yeah, Henderson, we are,” Eddie bounces back easily, grinning. “Unlike other people I know, we don’t have a curfew and we are old enough to make our own decisions.”

“I am almost fifteen!” Dustin protests, while Stevie snorts and hides how he laughs at the kid, glad Eddie had an answer there.

“Emphasize the almost,” Stevie tells him. “Now get a move on, if you’re fast you might get shotgun over Robin.”

“This conversation is not over,” Dustin informs them as he hurries to Stevie’s car, getting comfortable in the front.

“So, you’ll come back after?” Eddie asks, when they’re done laughing at Dustin.

“Fuck yeah, I mean if you don’t mind,” Stevie says. “I know I’ve been half living here, sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry, I have no qualms about kicking you out if you become annoying, though I don’t see that happening. Plus, I know how you hate that house, sweetheart,” Eddie shrugs. “Besides, if we’re moving in together, we should practice living together. Don’t ya think, princess?”

“Sure,” Stevie says, trying for causal, but unable to stop her grin. He’s going to move in with Eddie and Robin at some point, probably soon. They want to move in with him.

“See you soon then,” Eddie grins back as Robin and Max come barreling by, Robin already complaining about Dustin winning shotgun.

At Max’s house, she says: “Oh fuck, we forgot to give you nail polish remover.”

“It’s alright, I’ll borrow Robin’s,” Stevie assures her, well aware of Ms. Mayfield on the steps, anxiously waiting for her daughter.

“Alright, bye,” she bids them goodbye as she makes her way to the door.

They drop off Dustin while Robin moves to the front seat with a pointed look, saying: “Next time I’m using girlfriend privileges.”

As they drive away again, Stevie idly comments: “They’re all gonna be so mad when they find out you never had any girlfriend privileges.”

“That’s what makes it all the more fun,” Robin smiles cheekily. “Besides, I have soulmate privileges, so they can’t be mad.”

“True,” Stevie agrees.

When they pull up to the Buckley house, she asks: “Do you want nail polish remover? I can go grab it real quick.”

Stevie studies his nails. They’re light pink with black flowers. Very cute. She likes it. “Nah, I like it and I can borrow Eddie’s. Besides I don’t want your mom to know.”

“Alright,” she smiles, then kisses his cheek with an, “I love you,” as a farewell.

“Love you too,” he calls after her. It’s partly for her waiting mom, but it’s not like it’s a lie. They just don’t mean it like most assume they do. Their mistake.

Back at Eddie’s they do the dishes together, singing along to Eddie’s music. Both Robin and Stevie have long since stopped pretending they don’t know it. Then they get ready for bed. It’s a bit different without Robin there, but they’ve gotten a lot more comfortable.

However, they sleep slightly different without her there. Before sleeping they talk a little, so Stevie is turned to face Eddie. When they fall asleep, she has her head pillowed on his chest, like that first time in the motel, the picture taped to Eddie’s mirror.

A week after thanksgiving, Stevie’s parents come back to town. Like they specifically chose it to make sure they wouldn't have to spend thanksgiving with their child and wouldn’t be close to Christmas to give him the idea they’d want to spend that with him either.

A year or two ago that might have hurt, but Stevie is over caring. The only thing that she does is scrambling to make her room parent safe, since there aren’t any traces that he lives there anywhere else in the house.

That weekend they break the news to her. They’re relocating to the West Coast permanently and want to sell the house.

If they were going to offer Stevie to come along, he wouldn't know, because he just says: “Oh, I’m almost moving out. Just a few more weeks of saving and I’m out of here. Is that okay?”

His parents look vaguely proud and impressed with that, the thing she has always craved from them right here when she doesn’t want it from them anymore. His father informs him that he has to handle the key exchange, because they won’t be able to be here.

“When will I have to give up the key?” Stevie asks with a frown. She can probably couch surf until she has his own place, but it won’t be ideal and he hates imposing on people.

“The 1st of January,” his mother’s brisk voice informs him. “Before that there will be people coming to pack the stuff we want to bring with us, but you’re free to whatever we leave behind, alright, dear.” The endearment has never felt more detached, cold, meaningless.

“Okay,” he nods simply, beyond caring about her parents. At this point, a part of him just wants them to leave, to have them gone, so she doesn’t need to think about them anymore.

He doesn’t know what his parents were expecting when they broke the news, but they seem pleased with her easy acceptance. After years of trying to be the perfect son, it appears that giving up and just going with it was the way to go. Stevie is a bit hysterical inside as she thinks, apathy has always been their strong suit.

They stay in town for a few days to finish up the last of their business, having an awkward family dinner that cements how close to strangers they truly are.

She informs Robin the next day, feeling detached from herself. It has always been a thing that is bound to happen, but now that it’s finally here it feels weird. His parents are leaving. They’re officially giving up on him and skipping town.

Robin must see some of the turmoil on his face, because she hugs her tight and whispers: “Oh, dingus,” in the most sympathetic voice.

He stands there and lets Robin hold her, basking in the comforts of her best friend and soulmate in these confusing times. She just needs a while for it to sink in. So, he’s in a bit of a daze as he requests more hours from Keith and calls to cancel DnD this week.

Eddie hears his distant voice and easily picks up that there’s something off. Probably soulmate intuition, Stevie thinks giddily, before softly explaining why she can’t come. Eddie has a slightly different reaction from Robin, seething: “Fucking assholes. They don’t deserve you, the fucking pricks. Want me to beat them up while they’re still here?”

It’s funny how well Eddie and Robin compliment each other. Even though Eddie is usually the comforting between them, the second Robin was, Eddie unknowingly picks up being the a bit inappropriately blunt one.

Stevie snorts at the threat, then says: “As much as I would love to see that, I don’t think they’re worth getting an assault charge over after you just ducked the murder charges.”

“I disagree, but I won’t fight them. Promise,” Eddie truly sounds reluctant as he says so, which makes Stevie smile.

“You can try and keep the gremlins off my back until I get this sorted?” he offers, knowing they won’t keep the kids away from this for that long, but it’ll be nice to not be bothered about rides while he tries to organize a move within three weeks.

“Aye, aye, captain,” Eddie chirps cheerfully, however, as he agrees to take on the impossible task for Stevie. It makes her heart constrict in the best way.

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver,” Stevie tells him, meaning every word of it. The combined effort of Eddie and Robin has grounded him again and how she can focus on all she needs to do in order to get out of the house that has felt like a museum to his loneliness for so long.

Since Stevie is the ride of most of the kids to DnD, the whole night gets canceled. Later Stevie will learn that Eddie called all the kids to explain that they shouldn’t be bother Stevie anytime soon unless they weren’t attached to their character.

After hanging up with Eddie, Stevie calls the real estate agent he’d been in contact with throughout his orientation process. She informs the man, she wants something to move in preferably before the first of January. He tells him he’d go look immediately.

His parents leave town a day later. Before they leave, her mother assures her that they’ll visit and won’t forget their baby, a lie and they both know it. Stevie has already decided not to give their secretary his new address.

As he watches them drive off, it feels like she’s waving goodbye to a ball and chain. The last pieces that tied her to who he was supposed to be cut loose.

It’s freeing to see them go, but also a bit underwhelming that it went so easily. No screaming, no tears, no last words of disappointment directed at her. Just the parting of people, the goodbye closer to one between strangers than family.

Between long shifts at Family Video, Stevie runs over town looking at houses and apartments, trying to find the perfect place.

They won’t be living there forever, just long enough for the kids to get out of high school and off to where they wanted to go. Then they’ll move to a bigger city where anonymity will buy them more freedom to be true to themselves.

However, they will spend a few years there and the others have trusted Stevie to pick a good spot, since she is the one who will put her name on the deed. His last name does buy a lot of good will at the banks after all and they can’t raise suspicion during the buying process.

So, she keeps an eye out for all of their need as she looks.

On top of that, he has to direct the movers and pack his own stuff. He can’t afford a mover himself, but he has a bunch of friends to call on. However, they’re all nosy friends, so Stevie packs up her stuff herself, marking a few boxes as private as she puts her more feminine stuff in them. He’ll have to remember to unpack those himself or let Eddie or Robin do it.

Her parents take all of their antiques and most of their nice furniture, which is fine. Stevie wasn’t attached to anything in that house. She doesn’t even care that much when his dresser is on the list too, just relieved he already packed up the stuff in it.

What does stand out to her is that his mother leaves her vanity behind. The white piece of furniture now stands alone in the bedroom she hasn’t been in for years.

He can still recall her mother sitting there, doing her makeup before parties, sitting Stevie down there as she tackles his hair, muttering about how unruly it is. Though, he also recalls how she complained about it. It was a wedding gift from her mother in law. Not the right wood, according to her.

Stevie has never been more grateful to his mother’s hatred to his paternal grandmother, who died when he was young.

She can’t wait to own it. To put it into her own bedroom and sit at it to do his makeup. If any of the shithead asks, it’s for Robin, his ‘girlfriend.’ He knew their cover would be mutually beneficial. It’s thrilling to imagine sitting at it.

In the end, he signs the deed to a small two bedroom house on the edge of town on the 19th of December, a Friday. It has a little front porch and is near the woods, close to where the Byers lived before they moved away. The house is close to Wayne and not too far from the Buckley’s, but is secluded enough to give them privacy. It’s very cozy, Stevie decides.

The house is perfect.

He calls all the kids and Eddie that he’s free for DnD tonight, picking them up as she vibrates in her seat, but refusing to say something. He is still riding the high of signing on the house and once they’re all at Eddie’s he exclaims: “I own a house now!”

Eddie and Robin don’t waste a second pulling her into their arms as they cheer, jumping around like idiots. The kids quickly joining in after it takes a second to settle in how huge this news is. They had already learned about Stevie’s radio silence, but decided to respect him, which was very nice of them.

Now they’re all offering to help her and DnD gets abandoned in favor of calling Joyce and Hopper as well as Max about it. Who come over to celebrate and Stevie proudly shows them all the key as he talks about the location and stuff.

She gives one key to Robin and says: “This one is for you, my lady. So you can always come over, because it’s your spot too.”

This is taken by some of the kids as an invitation to gag at the ‘couple.’ However, Robin ignores them as she hugs him tightly, for her the key meaning an escape whenever she needs without needing to call ahead.

“Can I get a key too?” Dustin asks. “Isn’t whatever you own my spot too.”

“That’s not how this works, Henderson,” Stevie informs him, fondly amused at the balls of the kids for asking for a key to his house. “Besides, I only have three keys.”

“Then it works out,” Dustin protests. “One for you, one for Robin and one for me. That’s three, or can’t you count.”

“Well, that would be a bit rude to me, because I’d like a key to my own house,” Eddie tells Dustin as he snatches the other key from Stevie’s hand.

The party stares at them looking gobsmacked and both realize they forgot to inform the others that they’re going to be roommates. Eddie does jazz hands as he says: “Surprise! Mom and dad are going to live together”

It’s obviously a joke, though a surge of warmth goes through Stevie anyway, because they do fit together nicely in the caretaker roles for the crew and mom has always given Stevie a particular brand of gender happiness.

However, the kids take it as the joke it is and don’t look further into it as they gag again, telling them they don’t need to imagine them together like that, before hastily realizing how that sounds and ensuring that it isn’t meant in a homophobic way.

Eddie and Stevie laugh at that, ensuring them they didn’t think that. Stevie happy that Will has come out so that Joyce and Hopper can think it was for his comfort instead of theirs.

That weekend all the kids come over to help pack up, Hopper helping dismantle the furniture she wants to take with him, while Joyce helps him with the inventory of what he needs to buy, telling her they’ll see what they can for Christmas.

Stevie has completely forgotten about Christmas in the short and sudden time span. So, she freaks out, apologizing to all the kids that he hasn’t time to buy presents, but she will as soon as she can, truly.

They all tell him he’s an idiot, but none of them pass up on getting presents later. Robin invites her to Christmas and she can’t say no to that. For Robin. Which settles that.

Stevie gets into contact with a guy, who resells furniture to get rid off the things he doesn’t want or need. They use the extra cash to buy paint and necessities.

Eddie and Stevie take the week before Christmas off to move in. Robin also spends every second she can at the house.

It’s the first time in her life that Stevie has control over her own room. It’s a bit overwhelming, but Eddie and Robin are there to help. Besides, though they’ve assigned one as Stevie’s room, the other’s Eddie’s, they’ll be spending more time in Stevie’s, who has the comfortable bed from his old home. Eddie’s room is for when they have people over, who don’t know about their dependency or when someone doesn’t feel like being touched for the day.

So, Eddie and Robin have creative input on his room. Their room.

In the end, they paint the walls a soft yellow color that they can all agree on (though Stevie suspects Eddie and Robin gave in when he mentioned that first sweater and how he associates it with comfort and happiness). The curtains, Robin insists, are white with lilac flowers.

They put posters on the wall of bands they all like, plus one ABBA poster, since it has to pass as Stevie’s room and she insists they secretly like it too. Neither of them deny it, though they don’t agree either. She takes it as a win.

The vanity gets a special place near the window where he’ll have light and they help tape a bit of their collection of pictures on it. Eddie giving him the sleeping picture from their trip to hang up on it, which makes Stevie smile.

Robin gets space in the closet, though Stevie hides a few of her more feminine clothes there too. It is probably weird that he thinks their clothes look good together, but they do.

Eddie paints his own walls black, not listening to them about it being useless as he proceeds to cover them in posters, his shelves filled with figurines, dice, books and other knickknacks. He promises: “We’ll fill your shelves with memories soon, princess. Here, a start,” and hands her the figurine of Lady Stevie the Striking he hand painted, making Stevie cry a little.

The finishing touch to Eddie’s room is naturally when he mounts his guitar to the wall. He caresses the instrument tenderly and says: “Now it’s a home.”

They left the bathroom how they found it, placing all their bathroom products on the little shelves, which turns into Eddie and Robin bullying Stevie for taking up so much space. Stevie ignores this like an adult and turns on the shower when Eddie is leaning in to place something.

All three of them end up wet after that.

The kitchen is also the living room. That ends up as a soft space, very reminiscent of the Munson trailer and the Byers house.

It’s messy, mismatched and very homey, with blue cabinets and plaid curtains. The walls half wood, half white plaster. The couch red and none of the chairs around their little table matching. Wayne gifted them some of their mugs, which proudly line the wall and a blanket. On the fridge they place the picture the three of them took in the burger joint now already six months ago as well as a few others of the party and fun moments with three of them.

Stevie adores it.

Christmas morning brings the whole party to the house to ooh and ahh, as the three of them show everyone around the small space. No one questioning Robin’s presence there at all.

Joyce has a box of stuff that apparently all the brats and their parents have contributed to of things that they need before they can properly live somewhere. Both Eddie and Stevie deny how they tear up at the gesture.

At some point they do leave to celebrate Christmas with their families. Robin going home and Stevie promising he’ll show up later in his finest suit.

“Do you know what you need to do?” she asks for the hundredth time before she leaves, her mom picking her up mostly to check out Stevie’s new place, inspecting it for herself.

Stevie gets her anxiety and isn’t annoyed as he assures her: “I know. I’ll charm the pants of your whole family and tell them how amazing you are and how wonderful. Not to mention how lucky I am, as a straight guy, to have such a wonderful straight girl like you as my girlfriend.”

“Good, good, yeah exactly that,” Robin nods, muttering mostly to herself as she does.

“I can bring up the six nuggets?” Stevie suggests, having been roasted extensively for the conversation both her and Eddie overheard.

It has the desired effect as Robin snorts loudly, before laughing: “Oh my god, I don’t know if I want that, because it’ll be hilarious, but it will haunt me for the rest of my life.”

“If you think it’s funny I can, if they later ask, we can fake that you’re infertile and be really sad and heartbroken about it not working out so they’ll forever be awkward about bringing it up,” Stevie tells her.

“You, dingus, are so much smarter than people give you credit for,” Robin says. “Please, try to make tonight hilarious. It’s bad enough on its own, I deserve to secretly make fun of all my relations.”

“I’ll try,” Stevie promises.

Behind them Robin’s mom honks her car horn and loudly calls: “We have to go, Robin-darling. I still need to finish cooking and you can talk to your boyfriend all night. Lets go.”

“Ugh,” Robin groans, rolling her eyes, before kissing Stevie on the nose, which looks like his mouth from behind, where her mother is. Then they both wave goodbye, promising to see the other later.

With Robin’s mom gone, Eddie comes out of hiding, shaking his head at the scene. He idly comments: “It will never not be funny to see you two pretend to date. I’m sorry. I know it’s, like, serious and everything, but knowing you two, it’s just too much.”

“I know,” Stevie grins. “It’s very hard to keep up.”

“Nah, with how clingy you two are, it’s pretty believable through a straight lens,” he assures her.

“You’re equally as clingy, mister,” Stevie raises his brow at him.

“Not ashamed of that,” Eddie winks, leaning in and kissing her nose much like Robin had done moments earlier. They hold eyes contact for a second, then Eddie cracks up at Stevie’s wide eyes, which sets Stevie off until they’re both laughing.

After a few moments, they sober up. Eddie puts the last of his stuff away, before checking with Stevie: “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”

“Dude, I can handle putting away towels and pans,” Stevie assures him. “Go celebrate with Wayne, it’s okay, I promise. I know he doesn’t get much time off. And you’ll be living here, I’m going to see you plenty.”

“Alright, princess, see you tonight,” Eddie says, before leaving.

They had agreed to come back to the house after Christmas, Robin pouting about not being able to join them, since she had to be there for boxing day. Buckley tradition. However, she understood their sentiment. They wanted it to feel like a home. A place to return to.

Wayne had visited the day before, helping with the last of the furniture. It had been pretty emotional for Eddie, who was moving away from his uncle that had taken him in so many years ago after getting kicked out.

It’s weird for him to not be living with his uncle anymore, so he naturally cried when Wayne told him how proud he was for getting where he is now. How glad he is that Eddie found more people like him. How happy he is that his nephew found more family.

The last part made Stevie cry a bit too, but she’d bravely hidden it while making them all coffee. It is just nice to know that the people he considers family, do the same for him. Wayne especially, since he held a similar place to Joyce and Hopper. Parents she never had.

But now Stevie is home alone.

She puts the last of their stuff away, musing that the new place already feel more like home. He might be alone, but the house doesn’t feel lonely. The used mugs of everyone are in the sink and Robin has already left a sweater on the couch, while papers with ideas for Eddie’s songs are on the table.

It’s nice to have signs of life like that around, just like it’s nice to have the products of the others in the shower as she washes herself.

When styling his hair, he doesn’t sit at the vanity, choosing to do so in the bathroom. She wants the first time using it to be special, when she has the time to doll up and fully get into it and that can’t be tonight.

Tonight, he hoists himself into an old suit from a prom he doesn’t remember. He styles his hair to perfection and shaves as he puts on Steve Harrington as a persona. As an armor. Tonight he’s Robin’s boyfriend, the polite rich kid that should be a prideful addition to any family.

It’s strange to think how he would have never imagined himself here at the start of the year that already seems so long ago.

Yet, here she is. Stevie, no longer a boy nor straight, having just moved in with Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson and going to Christmas as the beard of Robin Buckley. Both of them now her soulmates and all the happier for it.

Life takes crazy turns if you let it run it’s course.

He checks himself over in the mirror one last time, practicing a few more smirks and smiles, before he nods to himself. He takes his present, flowers and wine, nodding at her reflection. Then he grabs his keys and walks to the car. Onto Christmas.

~~

A/N:

I think thanksgiving as a holiday sucks and I’m not American so idk what the hell is up with it, so it’s a bit brief, but also this whole thing has gotten far enough out of hand for me not to go into detail about fucking thanksgiving lmao

Anyway, I really wanted to make Wayne gay too, because there is something very comforting about having elder queers around. Trust me. I have been very lucky in that regard (shout out to both my childhood neighbors) and it makes such a difference.

Btw, I know Stevie owning a house might be unrealistic, but it’s the 80s, he has a name of being rich and the town went through a lot and is still known as the satanic murder town, so I feel like it’s close enough to real to be justified.

Also, are y’all beginning to see the queerplatonic power throuple I have in mind for them? Do you see the vision??

(if you’re reading it when it’s completely finished, this is a good place to stop and go to sleep or back to your tasks)

[ddarker-dreams]

Levi Ackerman x Reader hcs. [COMM]

a/n: i haven’t written for levi in many years!! some lock lore is that i used to write for him the most, it’s actually what got me into fanfiction/anime in the first place back in 2012... so it feels very nice to write for him again. i had a lot of fun with this! :’) word count: 2k. warnings: non explicit mentions of death (not involving reader), just canon typical stuff.

Love has been a concept that remains closed off in Levi’s mind. Getting close to others is already a risk too great in the world he’s come to know, a factor that’s proven unfortunately true time and time again. When you’re close to others, it means the possibility of being hurt by them all the same when they inevitably leave. The pain of losing another he’s grown attached to outweighs the possible benefits that could come with a closer connection. This philosophy has ensnared his heart, creating a barrier that no one dared slipping past for many years.

Even though Levi makes the choice to be wary of growing closer than necessary to people, he also understands the importance of trusting in his comrades. He has his own way of mentally assessing new recruits, and didn’t think much of you initially. You were a fresh face, who hoped that your efforts would cultivate humanity’s future. He’d seen many with that spark too many times to count. All of them ending up killed in gruesome ways, or losing the shine in their eyes should they live past another expedition. Though he still has an inherent respect for anyone willing to put their lives on the line for the Survey Corps, this extending to you as well.

His initial assessment of you was proven incorrect. While no longer as naive to the horrors of the outside world, the spark inside of you remains ever bright. There’s determination, that has only grown in strength as time goes on, rather than fading away. It catches his eye, to say the least. He looks after you from afar, without even realizing it. Levi tells himself that it’d just be a shame if something happened to you. He doesn’t think anything beyond that for some time, for his own mental well being.

Your relationship starts off with no romantic intentions. Levi spots you training on your own one day, even after a grueling day of menial work that comes with being a member of the Survey Corps. He’s captivated, unable to look away from your form. It’s sloppy, he thinks, but not hopeless. You’re not hopeless. It doesn’t sound like a high compliment, but coming from him, it’s meaningful.

It’s startling when he approaches you for the first time. He’s pointing out the numerous errors in your stance and what to do to correct them, never mincing his words. Levi’s standing there, arms crossed, willing you to continue with his input. While being under the scrutiny of humanity’s strongest soldier is anxiety inducing, his advice works perfectly. He doesn’t comment further than that, turning on his heels and leaving you to your thoughts and confusion.

Keeping your body in the best possible condition is vital to staying alive. His advice, though delivered in sharp as knives critiques, serves you well. Even just the bare minimum has your technique rapidly improving. This motivation to keep growing and learning is what drives you. Levi continues to watch from a safe distance as you spend hours doing different exercises, developing your abilities. From this point on it becomes something of a tradition, as much as he tries not to think of it that way. There’s a level of subconscious attachment that comes with looking forward to seeing you improve every evening. He’s acknowledged you. 

You start training together. It’s not everyday an opportunity to learn under Levi is offered, so when the hand was extended to you, you accepted it. He’s a tough yet fair teacher, offering praise only when he believes it’s deserved. Unfortunately, he can’t devote that much time to your little evenings due to his other obligations. That makes the time you shared all the more special. Despite himself, he’s looking out for you, and you him. A solid relationship begins to form.

Levi isn’t the easiest person to be around. He’s surprisingly talkative if you get him speaking on subjects that interest him, but his language remains coarse. Once you get used to this side of him, it’s for the better, hours flying by and the night sky appearing before you know it. Unlike others that tend to get offended or avoid alone time with Levi due to his reputation, you remain constant. He never brings it up, though he does wonder why you’re hellbent on seeking him out.

There are still times where Levi holds an internal battle over the unfolding events. He’s starting to like spending time with you, more than just offering wisdom on various subjects he’s knowledge about. He genuinely enjoys listening when you speak, an honor exclusive to you. Through the snark and monotonous comments, there’s clear attachment. 

It gets to the point that his closer comrades even pick up on the unusual behavior, this level of respect typically reserved for no one other than Commander Erwin. Though Hanji is the only one to point this behavior out. Everyone else is too frightened at the prospect of teasing Levi over his not so subtle fondness for you. He really didn’t think he was being so obvious... 

You’re on his mind more than he cares to admits. His mind wonders to you at night, when he’s in town, or even when he sees something silly that reminds him of you. Eventually, Levi’s thoughts almost always connect to you to some degree. He’ll spot something in the windows of a shop and recall how you mentioned wanting something similar, or subconsciously look for your favorite food when walking through market stalls. The thought of giving you gifts is off putting for a while since it’s a clear sign of of tenderness. And dammit, he’s trying so hard not to become attached -- but who is he kidding -- it’s far too late for that.

What Levi is good at is making swift decisions in the heat of the moment, and combat. So he has literally no idea how to approach his developing feelings for you. There are a lot of impulses, such as complimenting you, but it comes out more like an insult than anything. God bless your soul, because you’re going to be putting up with lots of uncomfortable interactions. He’s trying, okay, but he doesn’t know the first thing about romance. 

How he best shows his care for you is helping around in various ways. It isn’t as embarrassing as having to offer compliments, or the other traditional ways of romancing the person you’re interested in. Levi commits to making your life easier in anyway he can. These things range from making sure your horse is in top condition, setting aside rations if he knows you’re too busy to get them yourself, and checking over your equipment personally. He presents all this by saying “You’re prone to making mistakes, so let me do it instead.” In reality he just wants to make life easier for you, don’t be fooled by the prickly comment. 

He isn’t blind to the other elements of his attraction to you. You’re always glowing, an angel incarnate, beauty enough to draw in practically anyone with eyes. It was enough to draw him in after all. The first attempts at physical affection are subtle, yet heartfelt. Sitting closer to you, thighs almost touching. Leaning in closer whenever you speak. Lightly brushing his fingers against his face, claiming he saw a spec of dirt on it. All these things to gauge your reaction and build up his own confidence in pursuing you further.

The first time you kiss would be the night before an expedition. It’s always the most gut wrenching experience, anxiety ailing you so badly that sleep refuses to come. The stars are out, not a cloud in the sky. Levi comes to sit by you, chastising you for not being asleep, and offering no rebuttal when you point out that he’s also awake. It’s a serene moment, neither of you exchanging words for some time, finding comfort in each others presence. You don’t even realize how close he is to you. He speaks, the words insignificant, you’ve already long forgot what they were. 

When your head turns to offer him your full attention, that’s when he leans in. A chaste kiss is pressed against your parted lips. It’s shocking to say the least, adrenaline pumping through your veins at the intimate moment. His lips are softer than you expected. He treats you with unprecedented delicacy, moving back to assess your expression through lidded eyes. When you’re willing to reciprocate he’s more than happy to let you have your way. 

Levi isn’t the best with expressing himself fully through words. His actions more than compensate for this, you’ll never doubt his dedication to you. There’s no need for flowery prose, not when he has proven the lengths he’d go through to keep you safe, bearing all of himself to you. Your relationship isn’t defined by strict terminology, as he admitted to finding stuff like that “a waste of breath”. You both wordlessly acknowledge one another as partners. Any keen onlooker might be able to pick up on this, you don’t hide or put your relationship on display.

It’ll take some time for him to grow more amiable to physically expressing himself. He’s aware of his own strength and intimidating disposition, and doesn’t want to mess what’s possibly the best thing in his life up. So you’ll need to lead in most of those areas. All physical affection is reserved for private moments. Aside from maybe him whispering a sly remark or two in passing. 

The affection he likes receiving from you the most would be: Complimenting his actions, when you lay your head on his shoulder, whenever you do little things to help him out without him mentioning it, and when you hug him. He’s never experienced being held by another human being. So when you do it for the first time, he’s taken aback by how pleasant it is. Your comforting scent, how your warmth envelopes him, and how he can feel your heart beating. It’s one of his favorite things in the world, other than you of course.

The type of affection that he gives you the most would be: Acknowledging your growth in different areas (especially if he knows you’re insecure in one of them), putting his hand over yours, reminding you to take care of yourself, and kissing you on the forehead. Levi is a very proactive lover. He’s got a keen eye, picking up on things about yourself before you even notice them. While he might not always have the most tact, everything he does for you comes from a wholesome place.

Levi remains serious in the public eye. But when it’s just the two of you, or the company is people he’s close with, he loosens up considerably. Most of his jokes go over your head, since he always delivers them with such a deadpan. When he gets you to laugh with his dry wit though, by god does it feel good, he could listen to your laughter forever. It might even make his face heat up. 

You’re capable of making him smile more than anyone else! Though it’s still rare, that just means that when he does, you treasure it all the more. He smiles the most when you lose yourself in conversation. Rambling about your dreams, stories from your childhood, frustrating encounters that you had that day... all of it warms his heart in a way he never thought possible. You’re an addicting ray of sunshine, that he’s hellbent on protecting. 

Levi knows, now more than ever, what he wants from the future. Alongside protecting and expanding humanity’s territory, it’s you that he wants by him, and no cost is too great to achieve it. He won’t lose you -- he’s already lost so much -- so expect him to be protective. There may be limits to what he can do, but they’re all arbitrary to him. Rules and morality mean nothing in the face of ensuring your safety, and he’s vowed this to you. That one day, you’ll have a secure future, forever tied to each other. He might not mention the last part as it’s embarrassing, but the general sentiment is understood. 

[shadow--writer]

Hello there! I was wondering if you could headcanon a modern AU with Arsa, Julian, and Muriel being in their freshman year of high school and an older!MC (like, junior year) defending them from bullies, so the boys gain a massive crush on the MC but don’t say anything about their said crush until they find MC being bullied and just go “How dare they bully my future spouse!” Fluffy confession afterwards.

👀👀👀👀 why hello there. More modern au stuff? Heck yes this is my jam!

I hope you don’t mind me tweaking this a little bit for the guys + the beautiful Asra (who is non-binary so no gendered terms for this beautiful person! Just a reminder ^^ yes I use they/them and he/him interchangeably like the chaos demon I am it’s what Asra would’ve wanted) to be new in the High School but they’re all Juniors ^^ 

(sorry Freshmen x upperclassmen feels a little gross since Freshmen are right out of middle school, just feels weird to write so I aged em up a bit!)

I really did go bezerk today so much writing got done! I’m in class Wednesdays and Thursdays so nothing gets done haha :,) but today I got two things done! Requests are open check out my pinned post!

Also I went bonkers on these headcanons lmao enjoy! 

Julian, Asra, Muriel x MC highschool au

~~~~

Julian

He’s new to your school and in your human anatomy class (along with your theatre and art class)

He’s very shy at first 

Once he opens up he’s loud and the classclown

But uhhh some kids aren’t too happy with him gaining as much attention and love as you are

After class during your lunch period a group of kids go after him, taking his stuff

When they come across his notes on anatomy (and more science notes) and when they find his sketchbook things go from bad to worse

Julian is almost in tears when they laugh at him, tearing up his notes and his drawings

But he can’t cry, he can’t be going around school known as the kid who cried over this

He’s taller than these kids but they move faster, he seems like a calf who just seemed to walk chasing after them

You’ve had enough of this group of kids. They go after every new person and you’ve had it up to here with them

“GIVE HIM HIS STUFF BACK!”

Julian falls for you hard and fast, watching you chase after them, even getting into a fight with one

You got pretty beat up, cut your lip and you’re bruising. Since he wants to be a doctor and he’s pretty good with his hands and stuff he patches you up

You look so cool and badass wiping the blood off the corner of your mouth he could swoon right then and there

Don’t worry he takes you to the nurse

He now has the BIGGEST crush on you. Like it is huge

He draws you now, little doodles to help with face structure and anatomy 

He keeps drawing you after you got into a fight, he just loves how badass and amazing you looked

He’ll start to get closer to you after that, and you find out he’s actually really funny and cool

One day the bullies come back for a round two

This time Julian is ready, he’s been at this school for months he can deal with these guys now

They corner you two after school (y’all are probably going out to get ice cream with some more friends)

One tries to come at you but Julian punches them accidently yelling “STAY AWAY FROM THE LOVE OF MY LIFE!”

You’re...you’re shocked

Everyone is shocked

Julian is mortified. 

After you two scare the bullies away he mumbles his way through an apology and how that was wrong of him to say and it was an accident

But you thought it was cute

And you kind of like him too. .....you like him a lot 

You kiss his cheek to get him to stop rambling with a small smile. “I like you a lot.”

He grins and picks you up in a hug. “Really really?!”

More giggles. “Yes really really!”

He’ll kiss you so hard your cheeks squish and your teeth clash together 

Ice cream and homework can wait

Asra

Asra is a very shy person to start off with 

Doesn’t make friends very easily, you have to come to him first 

But once he gets drawn out of his shell he’s outgoing and fun

With bring his tarot cards in to do readings during lunch. The other kids love it it’s very fun

But there’s a group of people who don’t like him or his cards at all

So they corner him after school and take his cards 

Now tarot cards are expensive (I say this from experience of buying a deck)

So he’s in tears by the time they’re done tearing some of the cards up 

You’re on your way home from school when you see it happening 

Without even thinking you charge into the fray, yelling at the bullies and yanking the cards out of their hands

You bite the hand of one of the bullies who wasn’t letting go

They hurl insults at you and Asra as they walk away leaving the two of you with the mess of torn up cards

The cards that did survive were the Fool, the Magician and the Lovers

Asra is still crying over the loss of most of his other cards. He was very attached to them and judging by their worn corners and faded art he had them for a while

You offer to take him to buy some new ones

He jolts up to look at you, his tears startled away.

“O-Oh MC you don’t h-have to do that...I’ll be okay...”

You insist, and finally he gives in

They pick out a deck that he does admit is way prettier than his old one (this deck being the deck in the game)

You buy it and suddenly it has way more value to him 

He watched you fight for his cards and him

So he starts to fall for you 

You being oblivious but a sweetheart, befriend him and you two become very close

He only does tarot readings for your close friend group now

He doesn’t want to risk the deck you gave to him

One day you two are walking home to do homework and hang out 

But the bully you bit corners you and starts yelling 

Apparently they were embarrassed over the fact you bit them and now there’s a joke about how they got taken down by someone who bit them

So they want to get you back to regain their honour 

Asra sees and just heckin

Y E E T S

their backpack at them yelling: “IF YOU TOUCH MY CRUSH I’LL SIC MY SNAKE ON YOU”

They fall to the ground, Asra swipes the bag up and the two of you book it

You’re laughing really hard and he wonders why

Then you tell him about confessionsino and he about dies on the side of the road

Wheezing from being out of breath and laughing you kiss him 

“I like you too, snake lover.”

Muriel

Muriel is shy before and after you get to know him. He’s the new kid so you expect it but he never opens up

He no talk

Nope nope no he’s very tight lipped and will blush whenever he gets called on

He gets bullied for being too shy

Like looking at the size of him he should be on the football team but no he volunteers at the animal shelter and is in the animal science club

I’m sorry but hear me out here: Muriel with thick black glasses (I don’t make the rules or take critique)

He gets cornered by some of the spots teams trying to pressure him into joining during lunch 

He doesn’t want to 

Things get a little violent

You’re eating nearby, listening to music and trying to get some Zoology work done

Sounds of a scuffle get your attention, you’re a little pissed off since you want to get some work done in peace

Then you see the new kid (Muriel) getting roughed around by some of the sports kids

Angrily, you get to your feet and stomp over to them, yelling at them to stop what they were doing

They don’t listen to you and Muriel’s glasses get broken (someone steps on them)

You start fighting them, yelling at them to leave Muriel alone

Finally after a bit they leave, spitting on the ground at your feet

You yell after them (probably calling them lowlife lizard skin cowards) hands trembling with your anger

Taking a deep breath you turn to Muriel, helping him pick up his stuff

When he sees his glasses in pieces he nearly cries

You pack his bag, asking softly if it would be okay if you hugged him 

He nods slowly, and you wrap your arms around him, letting him cry silently into your shoulder

You stick near him after that, becoming his friend and fierce protector 

He gets this huge crush on you soon after that

Poor baby doesn’t know what to do 

He helps you out with your Zoology homework and you listen as he goes on about the dogs in the shelter he works on

You develop a crush on him after that

One day the sports kids come back for a round two after school 

Muriel is in the bathroom and you told him you’d be waiting in the courtyard

The sports kids were going for Muriel but seeing you alone was too good an opportunity to pass up

They start pushing you around and when Muriel comes out to see them messing with you he gets so angry

Seeing this 6′5 (he grows taller by the end of the year) broad kid walk towards them scares the heck outta the sports kids 

But they don’t back off until he stands over them, eyes dark with anger

“Leave my friend and crush alone,” he snaps

They scurry off soon after that

You’re standing there shocked at what he said

When he realizes what he says he melts down

You jump into his arms in a hug and laugh 

“You’re my crush too!”

He’s very shocked, you tenderly kiss him with another smile

You go to his house, hand in hand, talking about dogs, laughing, and blushing.

Maybe moving schools wasn’t so bad.

[lovelyirony]

Rhodeytony: "scum of the earth" "which ones" "all of them"

Tony Stark was the world’s premier designer of the year, and with good reason. His careful attention to stitching and his insistence at using bright colors and patterns and unconventional additions to accessories and lapels for suits had him being noticed by many people the world over. 

His one rule is this: Never Listen to a Fashion Critic. 

He doesn’t like them, doesn’t even begin to pretend to tolerate them. 

When he’s in an interview, he makes his opinion known, calling them in no uncertain terms: 

“They’re scum of the earth.” 

“Which ones?” Ms. Everhart asks. 

“All of them,” Tony answers. “Fashion critics want a trend, but then they’ll fall back on holding basic pieces up to standard and if they don’t like how a piece looks on someone, they think it’s a terrible piece.” 

“Can you say for sure that all of them deserve this…verbal tongue-lash?” Christine asks, highly amused. Tony doesn’t always like being interviewed by Everhart; she has a tendency to twist words, make anyone seem like the height of villainy. 

But on this subject, he couldn’t care less. 

“I’d be sure,” he answers. “I’ve seen young designers leave the room in tears from a critique from a critic who hasn’t worn anything but black or white colored clothing for the last thirty years.Their highest risk is red.” 

- 

The interview causes a ripple among the fashion world. 

Pepper is displeased with him. 

“See if anyone gives you positive reviews,” she hisses. “The whole point of critics is to redirect people to your designs!” 

“Well, I’m sure that they’ll do it anyways,” Tony answers, rolling his eyes. He’s working on stitching roses to the sleeves of a piece, and he’s sure that he doesn’t have time for this. “Now, quit bothering me and start asking Happy about when we’re leaving for the runway show in New York.” 

-

There is one critic that Tony has not run into, and that is the infamous James Rhodes

Having used to be a model and choosing to use his platform a different way, he has found even more success as a fashion critic. 

And he’s very entertained with the interview that Tony Stark was part of. 

“Can you believe him?” Sharon asks, flipping idly over a cover with a truly wonderfully done coat. One of his pieces, of course. 

“I can,” Rhodes muses. “Especially since he’s right about most of us.” 

He says this while he’s in a pair of boots that have a higher heel than most men would dare to wear, perhaps the most eye-searingly-green-and-yellow plaid pants he could find, and a t-shirt that one of his interns made with the statement reading “I Can’t Kill God But I Can Try” on the front. 

(The shirt is scarlet red with black glitter. Very cute, very 90s inspired. Rhodes loves it.) 

- 

Coincidentally, Rhodes and Stark get seated right next to each other. People are whispering, wondering what tension will erupt, what Tony will say and what James will respond with. 

They don’t say anything, at least not at first. 

“Good to see you, Stark,” Rhodes says. He’s dressed nicely; a cropped suit jacket done in an orange-and-red butterfly pattern. He has nice abs. 

“I’m surprised you think so,” Tony says, smiling. “I like the butterfly jacket.” 

“Decided to break it out. Had to see your designs in style and see what you thought.” 

“Even if I don’t read your review?” Tony asks, raising an eyebrow.

Rhodes laughs. 

“You’d read it and disregard it just as quickly, Tony. I know what you’ll do.” 

Tony smiles. 

“Well, at least you know. But still. Maybe I’ll give you the time of day for this. Maybe.” 

“High praise,” Tony says, nodding in an approving manner. “I’ll have to see if I’m worth a fuss after all this, won’t I?” 

Rhodes laughs. 

“Maybe. Just maybe.” 

- 

Tony’s show is…well. It’s incredible. 

Rhodes can admit this, and freely does. He loves the lighting job, he loves the blue theme of it that runs through. 

“I’m glad you didn’t go with a light blue, the Tiffany motif some have tried ends up looking cheaper than plastic at points,” Rhodes says. 

Tony laughs. 

“Light blue…I like it, but I’m picky about it. Dark blue has more my style in it for this one.” 

“Are you going to read my review?” Rhodes asks. “If I do one.” 

“You will do one, and I won’t read it,” Tony answers, grinning. “You’re a sweet guy, but I don’t go back on my word.” 

“And if I left a review about something else?” he asks, leaning back in his chair. Tony’s standing, and he can see how well-fitting his outfit truly is from this angle. 

“Like what?” Tony asks, grinning. 

“Well, maybe my review about a certain restaurant that I’d think you’d enjoy.” 

“I could be convinced…” Tony starts. “So long as I can call you something other than James Rhodes. That’s so stuffy.” 

“You can come up with something over dinner, I’m sure,” Rhodes says, laughing. “I’m sure of it.” 

- 

They stay at the restaurant for three hours. 

James Rhodes becomes “Rhodey” and Tony gets the best goddamned kiss of his life at the doorstep of his home. 

“We making this a thing?” Rhodey questions. “Because I wouldn’t mind.” 

“Is this just to make me read a review?” Tony asks. 

Rhodey laughs, loud and carefree. 

“I’ll never make you read a review so long as I get to kiss you like that again,” Rhodey answers. “Promise you that.” 

“Then yes,” Tony says. “I would love to make this a thing we do.” 

- 

They are a power couple of the fashion world, by the way. Tony has no idea how his husband feels about his collections until the show is over, and Rhodey gets to tell him exactly what he thought over dinner. 

It’s not unbearable, although sometimes Tony regrets not listening because the critiques could have helped the shoulder-shape of some of the dresses. 

But it’s mostly fine. 

[randomnumbers751650]

Long, unedited text in which I rant about comparative mythology, Joseph Campbell and his monomyth,

Back in 2012 I wanted to improve my fiction writing (and writing in general, because in spite of nuances, themes and audience, writing a fiction and a nonfiction piece shouldn’t be that different) and thus I picked a few writing manuals. Many of them cited the Hero’s Journey, and how important it became for writers – after all Star Wars used and it worked. I believe most of the people reading this like Star Wars, or at least has neutral feelings about it, but one thing that cannot be denied is that became a juggernaut of popular culture.

So I bought a copy of the Portuguese translation of The Hero of a Thousand Faces and I fell in love with the style. Campbell had a great way with words and the translation was top notch. For those unaware, The Hero of a Thousand Faces proposes that there is a universal pattern in humanity’s mythologies that involves a person (usually a man) that went out into a journey far away from his home, faced many obstacles, both external and internal, and returned triumphant with a prize, the Grail or the Elixir of Life, back to his home. Campbell’s strength is that he managed to systematize so many different sources into a single cohesive narrative.

At the time I was impressed and decided to study more and write in an interdisciplinary research with economics – by writing an article on how the entrepreneur replaces the mythical hero in today’s capitalism. I had to stop the project in order to focus on more urgent matters (my thesis), but now that I finished I can finally return to this pet project of mine.

If you might have seen previous posts, I ended up having a dismal view of economics. It’s a morally and spiritually failed “science” (I have in my drafts a post on arts and I’m going to rant another day about it). Reading all these books on comparative mythology is so fun because it allows me for a moment to forget I have a degree in economics.

Until I started to realize there was something wrong.

My research had indicated that Campbell and others (such as Mircea Eliade and Carl Gust Jung, who had been on of Campbell’s main influences) weren’t very well respected in academia. At first I thought “fine”, because I’m used to interact with economists who can be considered “heterodox” and I have academic literature that I could use to make my point, besides the fact my colleagues were interested in what I was doing.

The problem is that this massive narrative of the Hero’s Journey/monomyth is an attempt to generalize pretty wide categories, like mythology, into one single model of explanation, it worked because it became a prescription, giving the writer a tool to create a story in a factory-like pace. It has checkboxes that can be filled, professional writers have made it widely available.

But I started to realize his entire understanding of mythology is problematic. First the basics: Campbell ignores when myths don’t fit his scheme. This is fruit of his Jungian influences, who claim that humanity has a collective unconsciousness, that manifest through masks and archetypes. This is the essence of the Persona games (and to a smaller extent of the Fate games) – “I am the Shadow the true self”. So any deviation from the monomyth can be justified by being a faulty translation of the collective unconsciousness.

This is the kind of thing that Karl Popper warned about, when he proposed the “falseability” hypothesis, to demarcate scientific knowledge. The collective unconsciousness isn’t a scientific proposition because it can be falsified. It cannot be observed and it cannot be refuted, because someone who subscribe to this doctrine will always have an explanation to explain why it wasn’t observed. In spite of falseability isn’t favored by philosophers of science anymore, it remains an important piece of the history of philosophy and he aimed his attack on psychoanalysis of Freud and Jung – and, while they helped psychology in the beginning, they’re like what Pythagoras is to math. They were both surpassed by modern science and they are studied more as pieces of history than serious theorists.

But this isn’t the worst. All the three main authors on myths were quite conservatives in the sense of almost being fascists – sometimes dropping the ‘almost’. Some members of the alt-right even look up to them as some sort of “academic’ justification. Not to mention anti-Semitic. Jung had disagreement with Freud and Freud noticed his anti-Semitism. Eliade was a proud supporter of the Iron Guard, a Romanian fascist organization that organized pogroms and wanted to topple the Romanian government. Later Eliade became an ambassador at Salazar’s Fascist Portugal, writing it was a government guided by the love of God. Campbell, with his hero worship, was dangerously close to the ur-fascism described by Umberto Eco (please read here, you won’t regret https://www.pegc.us/archive/Articles/eco_ur-fascism.pdf).

“If you browse in the shelves that, in American bookstores, are labeled as New Age, you can find there even Saint Augustine who, as far as I know, was not a fascist. But combining Saint Augustine and Stonehenge – that is a symptom of Ur-Fascism.”

Campbell did that a lot. He considered the Bible gospels and Gnostic gospels to be on the same level. Any serious student, that is not operating under New Age beliefs and other frivolous theories like the one that says Jesus went to India, will know there’s a difference between them (even Eliade was sure to stress the difference).

But Campbell cared nothing for it. He disliked the “semitic” religions for corrupting the mythic imagination (which is the source of his anti-Semitism), especially Judaism. When I showed him describing the Japanese tea ceremony to a friend who’s minoring in Japanese studies, she wrote “I’m impressed, he’s somehow managed to out-purple prose the original Japanese”. So, it’s also full of orientalism, treating the East as the mystical Other, something for “daring” Westerners to discover and distillate.

What disturbed…no, “disturbed” isn’t the word that I need in the moment, but what made me feel uncomfortable is that, in spite of all his talk of spirituality, the impression I had of Power of Myth is that I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone more materialist than him. Not even Karl Marx, founder of the Historical Materialism, was as materialist as Campbell.

At one point in the book, he was asked if he believed in anything and he gave a dismissive reply and said “I want to get experiences.” A man who studied all the myths of the world available, apparently didn’t believe in anything. Is that what spiritual maturity is? A continuous flux of experiences? Being taken by some sort of shamanistic wind like a floating plastic bag?

In nowhere in the interview he talked about virtues. In rebellion with his Catholic childhood, he said that we should go to the confessionary and say “God, I’ve been such a good boy”. Any cursory reading of the Gospel would say otherwise. Wasn’t this exactly Pharisee’s prayer in Luke 18:9-14? While the wasn’t the publican, who went with humility and asked for forgiveness, the one who walked out with an experience? And not only in Christianity, since in Tibetan Buddhism, a tulpa is something you have to kill, not foster like an imaginary friend like in some internet circles, contamined with this obsession with experiences.

The way I came to see Joseph Campbell as a man who was so stuck in his own world that nothing could move him out of it. All he wanted to do was this big experience, but in the end it’s as wide as the ocean, but shallow as a puddle. Even when Campbell speaks about having a “cosmic consciousness”, all that New Age jargon, claiming it’s about people discovering they’re not the center of the universe, it’s still so…self-servicing. It addresses a crowd so obsessed with experiences, but wants nothing to do with anything that requires compromise. He quotes the Hindu concept of maya, that life is an illusion, but I wonder how right he is about it.

I want to share this critique, by a researcher in comic studies: “We do not remember The Night Gwen Stacy Died because Gwen’s death reminds us of our own mortality, ‘the destiny of Everyman’, but because the story exposes the fragility of Spider-Man reader’s fantasies. Even icons can die.”

The exposition of the fragility of myths, especially the Hero’s Journey, never happens in Campbell’s work. It never talks about the potential of myths hindering entire societies, causing strife and causing people who can’t fit to become outcasts. Not even the cruel ones, like the Aztec death cult is treated as sublime, ignoring the fact that the Aztec neighbors helped to Spanish because they had enough of the Aztec myth.

I have changed my article. While I will still write on the hero entrepreneur, I’ll take a more critical view. The focus of the entrepreneur as an individual has many issues, because it ignores the role of public investment (necessary for high risk enterprises, like going to the moon or creating touch screens) and it treats with contempt the worked wage. Cambpell also treated with contempt the “masses”, who cannot be “heroes”. The theory on the entrepreneur is the same, treating the entrepreneur as a hero and the waged workers as lowlifes who have nothing to do, but to work, obey and be paid – to the point it feels like some economists treat strikes as crimes worse than murder. Not only that, but they can exploit the worker (see a book named “Do what you love and other lies about success and happiness”, it could be replaced with “Follow your bliss…”).

Campbell wrote in a time that there was no Wikipedia. So his book was the introduction of myths to a lot of people. It helped it was well-written. He considering his approach apolitical, but it’s clear that’s it’s not exactly like that (though this is a reason why Jordan Peterson failed to become the next Campbell, since he’s also a Jungian scholar, but he tried to become a conservative guru and this was his downfall). And, nowadays, Campbell is still inevitable in the circles that his themes matter, unlike Freud and Jung. Read it, but be aware of its problems, because it has already influenced what you consume.

[mor-beck-more-problems]

Murphy’s Law || Morgan, Nell, & Rebecca (feat. Constance)

Fuck Constance.

Morgan sat in her car, nervously stuffing fries into her mouth. She passed them to Nell, who had her own pre-ritual dinner on her lap. She wasn’t sure if bringing Nell was the right idea. She had an older, more experienced Vural coming to join them. She had Rebecca, much as her possession situation unnerved her with something this important. But she had all but given Nell a promise to let her help once. And she had done well enough with the ritual to send Erin’s dad away from this plane of existence. She was strong, and despite her age and the way she liked to play, she took her craft seriously. It felt like an insult to ask if she was sure, but it was at the top of her mind. Not because Nell was indecisive or hadn’t memorized the plan with her enough times, but because there was a chance Constance might put up a fight, might try to hurt Nell. She had cursed Morgan’s entire family without knowing them. What might she do to her new coven? Morgan pushed the thought aside and reached in her to-go back for a bite of burger, peered out at the sky through her dashboard. “At least it’s a clear night. Great weather for interrogating the dead, huh?”

Nell, in contrast, was nearly at peace while she chomped into her own chili fries. Sure, she hadn’t summoned a ghost exactly like Constance before, but she’d summoned plenty of things she assumed would be harder to pull through her circles and pentagrams than some old bat bitch ghost. Nevertheless, she was buzzing with anticipation, more excited than worried. Her own little spell kit was in the back, and Taki had come along for the ride as well in the event she might need to strengthen her magic for the upcoming spellwork. Currently, he was butting his head up against the back of Morgan’s hand, trying to command her into feeding him a chicken nugget that Nell had bought specifically for him. He was more than smart enough to get it for himself, but he much preferred it when people fed him as he lounged, like a modern day Cleocatra being hand fed grapes. Meanwhile, another car pulled up alongside them, Nell looking out the window to wave at the driver, a cousin that was more related by marrying into the Vurals and coven tradition than blood, but family nonetheless. “Great weather for interrogating the dead,” Nell echoed as she turned back to Morgan, an eager grin on her face. “Should we go out and get ready?” Nell figured these were Morgan’s shots to call. After all, it was her family and her curse. “Jamie just pulled up so— I think we’re good to get going if you are.”

Morgan teased Taki with the nugget a moment longer, making him rear up on his haunches and bare his little teeth in excitement. She tore off a piece and let him take it from his fingers. She gave him a scratch behind his ears, feeling guilty for leaving Anya behind to ‘guard’ Deirdre at home. The truth of it was, she couldn’t stomach bringing her where Constance might see her, or try to hurt her-- No. She was just scared. Worrying too much. The circle they were casting had been approved by Rebecca and Jamie both. It would hold her within its confines. So long as they didn’t get too close or loosen their hold enough that she could pull on the energy around them, she should be contained. So it would be fine, enough for Taki to be here for Nell. Morgan just...couldn’t bring herself to open that particular door. And if she couldn’t bear it bravely she didn’t have any business doing it at all.

Morgan gave Taki the rest of the nugget and wiped the grease off her fingers. “Uh, sure! Let’s get this party started. I’m sure Rebecca is already setting the circle up.” She nodded in the direction of another car near their own. “I’m just gonna let um, let Deirdre know we’re getting started,” she said, sending off a quick message. I love you. I’ll be careful. No running away with Anya without me. 

This would be fine. She would learn what she needed to learn. She would win. Morgan reached for her catch-all bag, now packed within an inch of its life, and got out of the car, her fists clenched with determination. She waved at Nell’s cousin and held out her hand to shake. They’d spoken online but it was different now. 

Jamie had heard the new member of the coven had something over her they needed to fix, but she didn’t expect to be summoning a spirit this old, and hardly one like Constance. The file Morgan had sent her was crazier than anything she’d come across helping exorcists and raiding old rich people’s tombs. She almost felt bad for the ghost, but coven cousins came before ghostly...whatever else. “Put that hand away,” she said to Morgan, flashing a big smile.  “We’re family, you’re giving me a hug.” She brought the small woman into her arms and gave her a look over. She didn’t look like much, but if magic had taught her anything, looks could be deceiving. “Hey little cuz,” she said to Nell. “You still getting into plenty of trouble? And where’s the other hotshot you ordered in? I’m ready to raise some hell!”

Rebecca blinked, wiping her hands across her face to stay awake. Why was she still so tired? She’d almost finished the circle by the time Morgan and Nell had decided to get out of the car, but she simply observed from afar as the other witch stepped from her vehicle as well. Rebecca scratched her shoulder. Three little witches, all lined up. Rebecca shook her head. “Shut up…” she murmured. She knew he was close. Any day now, and she’d be gone. But...people kept needing her. She couldn’t just leave again. Could she? She clenched and unclenched her hands, finishing up her circle and standing. She watched them all commune from a distance, standing back. She’d told Morgan she would provide the circle and be there if needed, but she didn’t have the energy to perform a full summoning. That’s what the other two were for, she supposed. So she just stepped back, and waited.

It was a bit of a familiar feeling, walking up to Rebecca along with Morgan, and preparing to do a good bit of magic. After all, it hadn’t been all that long ago that they’d helped Erin with her father. So as she approached the circle, hands on hips, Nell simply said, “So does a two-time team up warrant a name like The Avengers, yet? Maybe something to do with the Ghostbusters?” Not that she actually had that much interaction with ghosts. Of course...her own personal ghost was still here in the form of Evan, still not having gotten rid of her coin. She glanced in his direction warily, having instructed him to leave them alone for this spellwork, as it would most likely require a good bit of focus. Then she was shooting her distant cousin a comfortable grin, sticking her tongue out playfully. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never been in trouble in my entire life.” Meanwhile, Taki was pacing the perimeter of the circle, as if he himself was looking it over. 

Morgan smirked, eager for the levity of Nell’s and Jamie’s mood. “We are a pretty powerful team, I’ll admit. I mean, it’s no accident I asked all of you to come back again, right? We’re White Crest’s best and most powerful!”

“And what does that make me?” Jamie balked, teasing. 

“O-oh,” Morgan fumbled, laughing nervously. She was reaching into her back for her ingredients: Constance’s bones, the rusalka hair, the bonedoggle saliva, the vampire dust, and all the rest. “You’re obviously the fan favorite recruit to make sure everyone knows the sequel will be better!” She slipped ahead to present the ingredients to Rebecca and recite her understanding of the ritual one more time. Her connection to Constance was its own ingredient. Technically, she was the one serving as the focal point for the spell and the others would be supporting and stabilizing her. They were all taking a risk, all giving of themselves to make this happen for her. It seemed only fair that Morgan take her place at the front. This was her spell, her problem, and her win. She crossed carefully into her place marked by a tree sigil at the end of the circle and waited for the others to file on either side of her. 

There was no fire to light her work as Morgan sprinkled the vampire dust over the basin in the center. Only the stars, glaring down like a thousand pair of eyes and the white, gleaming grin of the moon. Tension corded through Morgan’s arm as the dead creature’s remains fell through her fingers. Steady, she thought. Steady. Next came the lamia hair, braided and greased with bonedoggle saliva. Then the bones. Morgan cradled the soft cracked skull in her palm and unsheathed her athame and opened herself to the universe. Wind shivered through her bones and up the hair down her neck. Her soul twisted, restless and exposed. Steady. Steady. She would not shake or cower before Constance had even arrived. She began to speak the words in an ancient tongue, “By the stars above and the earth below, by the fires of eternity, by the water of the spirits, We compel you to part the veil, return your child’s soul to this place!”

She went by each witch and held out the skull as a basin of its own, holding it out as they cut themselves and offered their blood, dropped and smeared on the bone as to become indistinguishable from one another. Morgan locked eyes with Nell as she passed the skull near her. She dared not interrupt the casting to speak, but she hoped she understood that she was grateful, that she was more determined than she was scared, that she had this, so long as Nell continued to have her back.

Rebecca wasn’t sure why, but she resented being called a witch. She wasn’t a witch. Sure, she had magical proclivity and knew a few basic spells, but she was an exorcist and a scholar. She knew much more in theory than she did in practice, hence why she drew the circles and let everyone else do the work. Still, she gave Morgan a tense smile as she came over, nodding. She had the words right, nearly perfect, but Rebecca didn’t have the energy to critique too much, and Morgan didn’t have the time to fix it. It was now or never. Under the light of the waning moon, the veil would be thinnest right around midnight. They didn’t call it the witching hour for nothing. As she watched the ceremony begin, a chill ran through her, something inside the circle attempting to flicker to life. Don’t you wanna touch? Came the voice. She closed her eyes. Don’t you wanna take? 

Nell locked eyes with Morgan as she passed the skull, cradling the head reverently as if it were something vaguely sacred, or perhaps more aptly, cursed. The ceremony was familiar enough, and doing most of it was as easy as breathing, Nell having been summoning for...most of her life now. Of course- this was somewhat different with the addition of Constance, but it was an easy enough adjustment. She wasn’t afraid of soe bitch ghost, though— especially after it had hurt her friends, and was responsible for many of Morgan’s troubles in life. Once she had done her part with the skull and blood, she lowered it into the basin as carefully as she could. But despite it all, the skull cracked, crumbling a bit either under the weight of gravity or their magical forces. The spell continued on as she spoke the words confidently and in tandem with the other witches. Then...finally— it was time. Again she looked towards her counterparts, first to Jaime, and then to Morgan as she nodded. As one, they rang out their beckoning call, commanding the woman to appear. “Constance Cunningham. Constance Cunningham. Constance Cunningham.” Vapor began to rise from the basin, ghostly skin seeming to slowly crawl around the remnants of the skull as she began to form. First the head, as flesh formed over closed eyes that didn’t yet open. The rest of Constance followed, ascending from the bowl as her shoulders appeared, then a torso...legs...feet. She was here.

Constance came into her second earthly existence screaming as loud as she had the first. She was encased, trapped, not in weak, hungry flesh but in magic, her own chosen force, her beginning and her end. She writhed where she stood, jaw clenched. She knew these woods, these stars. It was perhaps the cruelest part of all, to turn magic against here in her own home. She opened her mouth to curse the witches gathered, but no sound came. 

Morgan couldn’t help but stare at the spectral girl before her. She was so young with full cheeks and small unwrinkled eyes. She was frightened, twitching against the binds of magic that made her theirs to command. She didn’t even seem used to a body anymore, spectral as it was. Morgan had to remind herself not to soften in the face of her, to remember who she really was. Remember that she would not be someone to reason with or be gentle with. Constance was a girl, but one who only knew one language anymore; the language of power and hatred. 

Jamie spoke first. “You answer to us, honey,” she said. “This world isn’t your playpen anymore. Got it?” The way she glared, fierce and controlled, left no room for questions. “Tell the truth, and it won’t hurt a bit.”

This was Morgan’s cue and she knew it. She swallowed the lump in her throat and said, “I know you surrendered your life to curse the Bachmans, Constance. Tell me about the spell. And I mean everything.”

“I threw Agnes’ picture in a fire and I wished on a blasted star,” Constance spat. Her figure blurred and a strange hollow cry came out of her shape like the moan of a gale in a storm. The magic wouldn’t let her disobey them, not without making her suffer for it.

“Don’t make me ask you again,” Morgan said, reaching for the salt in her pocket. 

“What do you know of me! Who are you to demand anything of me, you wretch! You think this magic is a children’s game?” She thrashed again, baring her teeth like an animal. She reached out her hands for them, and maybe her form was too real, too terrifying for her to notice, but Morgan couldn’t tell if Constance had fizzled, bound, the way she should have. 

“I think I’m the bitch who’s going to fix the lives you broke,” Morgan replied,voice firm. “Now tell me how you did it. How did you throw away your life just to fuck with us?”

The word us lit something dark and furious in Constance’s ghostly face. “I see it now,” she said. “You have Agnes’ eyes. Are you heartless like her too? Do you throw people away like broken dolls when you have no use for them? What will you do if I break them?” She reached out, with sudden, burning strength, for Nell.

Constance was much younger than Nell had expected, despite having heard about her from Blanche and Morgan. Even though she’d been told otherwise, she’d constantly been picturing some old and bitter hag, someone that might curse you for stealing the beans from her yard. The difference in vision didn’t matter, though. After seeing the wicked parts of the world that she had, Nell knew that villainous intent didn’t have an age. Jaime beat her to the punch of demanding things from that ghostly spectre, and she simply waited, taking the moment to join her powers with Taki so that she might be ready for anything that might be coming. Whether Constance had somehow sensed such a thing, she didn’t have time to ponder, instinctively raising her magic to defend herself against Constance’s wiles. The magic was coming for her, and she was ready and willing to face it head-on and turn this into the fight Constance obviously wanted, but suddenly her eye contact was broken, a blur of black fur darting in front of her. She screamed. “Taki, no!” What sounded like an injured dog’s yelp cut through the air, and straight through Nell’s heart as the black Ovinikk fell to the ground, motionless. For a moment her focus wavered, every bone and thought in her body bidding her to dart forwards to check on the cat, nothing being more important than her familiar’s well-being.

“Nell, don’t!” Jamie cried, her voice carrying over the scream of the cat. But the girl had already dropped her concentration, the field was weakened, and what the cat hadn’t known, that the three of them were strong enough to deflect her power, was true now. The ghost girl’s face pulled into a wide, bitter smile and she glowed with strength as she summoned more power. What had they done, making her solid again? Jamie didn’t have a chance to think. Constance’s arm was reaching into her and drawing something out of her energy. Jamie had never felt anything like it. It burned her from the inside out, scorching thought out of her mind, leaving only a dry, crusted exhaustion. She didn’t know how to resist, it overrided her vision, her grip on herself. A gurgling, keening sound broke the air and as she sank to her knees, she knew in some distant place that it was coming from her. 

Morgan shut her mind to the screaming. It wasn’t happening. This wasn’t real. She had to hold her ground and keep the spell going. She pushed, digging deep into her want, into the part of her that still cried by the side of the road waiting for an ambulance to find her and her dad, that was hiding under the covers in her bed, waiting for something to change, the part of her that was tired. Her stomach turned but she pushed, emptying herself into the dark. “Nell? Becca--!” She called. “Becca we need--” Her voice broke in her throat. 

A chill clammed over her face. Constance. The trees trembled around them, twigs splintering off and fluttering like so many needles in the air. Morgan quivered, but kept her eyes shut and continued to spill her power into the circle.

“You know nothing of me,” she snarled. “You stupid woman. It wasn’t my life, that was meaningless without Agnes. It was my soul.”

There were truly only a few things in the world that could break Nell away from a spell of this proportion that she was intently focused on, but Constance had managed to find one of them- whether it was intentional or not. Every part of her was rioting, her heart in chaos as Taki stayed still where he’d fallen. Jaime followed quickly, and though the keening call of her cousin tore even more at her, feeling as if claws were ripping into her skin, it did the opposite of tear her apart. Two of their number were down now, and if she didn’t want Morgan, Becca, or herself to be next, she needed to focus. If Taki was dead, he was dead. If Jaime was injured, they’d deal with it after. Nothing could be done for them, and she didn’t have time to mourn when doing so would only catapult what was left to them into certain and seemingly perilous danger. She didn’t even particularly care about what Constance seemed to be claiming in terms of Agnes being at fault or something of that like, a blind and sudden hatred gripping her as her attempts rejoined Morgan’s, pouring every bit of her strength into them, more recklessly than she had been before. “Fucking bitch!” she spat, her despair giving way to anger as it so often did. “When we’re done with you, you’ll wish you neve fucking lived to begin with!” But would it be enough? Their power was much diminished now. That wasn’t going to stop Nell from trying, though.

Things were going wrong. Rebecca went to step forward, to intervene, already summoning the strength to shout her power words-- but something else came up instead. An energy she’d been fighting for too long. The weariness that swept over her was all consuming. She couldn’t fight it. Morgan was calling out to her, Nell was shouting, Constance was reaching through the circle. And Becca’s mind went blank.

Amon snapped back into existence as if thrown from a great height. He stumbled in her body for a moment, looking around. Blinked. He’d been aware of what was going on, but the first few moments were always fuzzy. There was a spirit, angry-- so angry he could feel her soul reaching through the ether. And as much as he yearned to simply consume her energy-- so full of rage-- he knew this moment was crucial. So, instead, he faltered, fell to the ground, as if Becca was somehow weakened. Grabbed his head, fuzzy, before giving a push of his own energy through the ether, to Constance. “Be free,” he murmured with a smirk. “Wreak your terror.”

Morgan was seeing spots behind her eyes. Her bones, defying logic, were beginning to feel more like putty. But she dug her heels into the earth and continued. “Becca--” Her voice trembled, barely above a whisper. Her energy went taught and began to falter as something cold settled around her neck.

“You think you understand regret?” Constance screamed. “You think I am your thing to bend?”

Morgan was screwed. She stayed in place and she would spend herself until she collapsed. She dropped the spell and there was even less keeping Constance from manipulating the world beyond their circle to her control. She could hurt them, maybe even kill them. She’d said she would come back from this, but she couldn’t see the way. It was only dark and Constance and another door closing on her. 

The air swelled around them, roaring like a hurricane. She had to do something. She had to get out-- and then everything was still. Morgan opened her eyes and released herself from the spell. She sunk to her knees and retched into the dirt, clammy all over. She hadn’t emptied herself like this in ages. This was more than the violent hangover after an adrenaline burst. She clenched her fists to keep the world from spinning. This was worse than that. But worst of all: Constance was free. She might be hovering over them, laughing at their distress. Without the spell going, she was just another ghost, beyond their sight and hearing. She could be halfway through the woods. She could be anywhere.

“I don’t understand,” she rasped, coughing. “Where did she go? What happened? J-jamie, N-nell?” She slumped onto her hands and peered around. She could just barely see the other witch at the end of the circle across from her, slumped and still. “I don’t understand...Why didn’t you do anything, Rebecca?”

Just as Morgan gave too much, so did Nell. Pure hatred and a need for instantaneous revenge were the only things keeping her aloft, knees locked stubbornly, but shaking nonetheless. She knew she was giving too much, but what was too much at this point when it seemed lives were in danger? When the spell broke through Morgan’s efforts, Nell fell to her knees with it, magic still streaming for a moment without aim until she cut it off seconds later. But again, sheer determination and the need to help the others kept her moving, crawling towards Taki who was closest to her. “Taki?” she asked, voice breaking with emotion and overuse alike. “Taki, don’t do this.” Her voice was begging in a way her pride would hate any other day, but things like that didn’t matter when her cat lay still on the ground, cold to the touch. “I gotta take him somewhere,” she cried out softly, her arms picking the limp familiar from the ground and stuffing her face into his fur to hide her tears there. “He needs help.” Then a groan rose from somewhere nearby, and she remembered Jaime. “Jaime?” Her voice joined Morgan’s, arms still tight around Taki, refusing to let go. “Morgan, are you-” Okay? What even was ‘okay’ at this point? 

Jamie couldn’t move. She didn’t know what had been siphoned out of her, energy, or magic, or something else. She felt like she had been scrubbed raw from the inside out. Pain throbbed behind her eyes, bled through the end of every nerve. She tested her limbs and tried to shift upwards but a sharp pain in her shoulder made her gasp with a new kind of pain. Jamie could barely move her neck to look, but as she wriggled in place, she saw the branch wedged through the flesh in her shoulder. She was too numb to lift her arm to yank it out. “The fuck...was that…” she groaned. “That bitch was no ordinary thing. And that circle should have held!” Her eyes rolled back to observe Rebecca from the ground. “What were you even here for if you were just gonna stand there? Nell, help me up, We’ll get Taki some help. You can drive, right?”

Morgan had sunk flat into the ground on her side, holding herself with limp arms while her body struggled to cope with being this drained. “Go,” she urged them, a little more strength to her voice. I’ll be fine in a little while.” She forced herself up on her hands again. “Don’t get hurt any worse waiting for me, go!”

Jaime was speaking, which was synonymous with a small wave of relief running through Nell. At least her cousin was relatively okay, even if there was a branch wedged through her shoulder. But it’d be best to leave it there in case pulling it just mucked up the injury further— at least, until they could get to Nisa for her healing. Fuck. What was her mom going to say about all of this? Maybe they should just go to the hospital like any other person might do. Such thoughts were beyond Nell at the moment, anyhow. Taki was her focus, pulling her bit of her attention in his direction. Still, she shakily rose to her feet, her body having no problem with voicing its displeasure when it came to how much power she’d used. “I can drive.” This time, her voice was firm, resolute as she went into crisis mode once again. After helping her cousin up, she turned back to Morgan. “Fat chance I’m leaving you here! I can help both of you to the car.” She could do this. And even if she couldn’t, she had to. Stubbornness and spite had always been good motivators.

The world came back in speckles. First black dots, then vision, slowly. He’d used too much energy in one go and Rebecca was the one feeling the after-effects. Of course he had left her with the mess. She didn’t even know what had happened. She’d blacked out for most of it. Fuck. Fuck. The circle was broken. Morgan and Nell and Jamie were all on the ground. People had been hurt. Rebecca looked up when someone spoke to her, but she couldn’t see them. The scratch on her shoulder itched. She tried to stand, but couldn’t yet. Fuck. She looked from Jamie to Morgan. “I shouldn’t have come,” was all she said. Struggled to stand again. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said-- I have to leave. I--” he could come back at any moment. “I have to go. I’m sorry.”

It was slower-going that she would have preferred, but finally Nell had managed to settle Jamie in the backseat of the car, laying in a way that would hopefully keep her wound from aggravating itself. All the while, she’d kept holding Taki, as if unable to part with him. On her return to Morgan, she stumbled over some stray bump in the earth beneath her shoes, scraping her knees further due to her weakened state. This time as she rose, it was to combat Rebecca’s words. What the fuck had happened with the exorcist, anyway? “You can’t leave us,” she said fiercely, not entirely understanding whatever it was Rebecca was saying, but not particularly caring when things had gone so horribly wrong. “Just help me get Morgan to the car.” It took her a few tries, but finally she managed to help the other witch from the ground before looking back at Rebecca. “Help us,” she demanded, not so kindly. It was her usual response when things went to shit, having no patience leftover for anything but the task at hand.

Morgan had all but stopped talking and Rebecca could feel the pained silence in her chest. She looked away. Nell was demanding something of her, but she couldn’t turn to face them. Tears burned at her eyes and she tried to blink them away, stumbling as she pulled herself up and away from the others. “I can’t, he’s-- I have to go, before he comes back, I’m sorry.” She stumbled one more time, before turning her back on them. It felt like the hardest thing she’d ever done. Theo would be so disappointed in her. But she didn’t look back as she ran to her car, started it, and drove off. She couldn’t, because if she had, she would’ve gone back to help.

Morgan didn’t feel her feet stumble along the earth as Nell led her away. She could barely feel her bag banging against her thigh as it drooped from her shoulder. This was worse than she had been able to understand back in the circle. This wasn’t just a setback for her future (all she wanted was a fucking future without looking over her shoulder for death) this was the opening of a different door, one that would not be closed again. With the hatred Constance carried in her, she might do anything to Morgan, might find out anything about her. She might take Morgan’s life apart piece by piece with her bare, spectral hands. Morgan trembled in the back seat of the car and wept. 

[clansayeed]

Bound by Destiny ― Chapter 19: The Eleventh Hour

PAIRING: Kamilah Sayeed x MC (Nadya Al Jamil) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Destiny ⥽

Nadya Al Jamil (MC) has been struggling from the day she moved to Manhattan, but her new job as assistant to the mysterious CEO of Raines Corp was supposed to turn her luck around. Until she finds herself caught in the middle of a war involving the Council of Vampires who secretly run the city. An evil from the birth of Vampire-kind stirs beneath, feeding on the conflict, and finds Nadya bound to a destiny she never asked for.

Bound by Destiny and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the Bloodbound series and spin-off, Nightbound. Find out more [HERE].

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Destiny tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

With Adrian no longer on death row everyone is forced to go underground; literally. Everyone takes time in the Shadow Den to regroup. Nadya finally talks about her visions.

[READ IT ON AO3]

When Adrian turns around he’s straightening out the cuffs of his rolled-up sleeves; rolls his freshly healed wrists to get used to the movement again and then gestures widely to his audience of two for critique.

“How do I look?”

Nadya’s foot jiggles over her knee. “I dunno. Something’s just…”

“Just what?” Adrian’s never been one she’d take as vain but anything less than a perfect ten seems to worry him. He looks to Lily. “What’s wrong, will I not blend in?”

Lily’s present only in body — has to look up and push her reading glasses away from the tip of her nose to survey him. She nods and clicks her tongue, “Oh, I see what you mean.”

“Right?”

“Exactly.”

Adrian snaps to grab their attention. “Will one of you tell me what you’re seeing? Please?”

Nadya approaches him with a grin and pulls him down by the ratty collar of his borrowed shirt. The much stronger, much faster vampire actually squeezes his eyes shut when she reaches up and ruffles his hair; replaces his carefully maintained pressed comb with imperfect dishevelment.

“Much better.”

“Yeah,” Lily sets her computer aside for a proper view, “nobody here looks that put together. Not even my girl — and she spends an hour on her curls every night.”

With a scoff Adrian gives Nadya a playful push, mutters about his hair being just fine the way it is. But she doesn’t miss the quick turn he gives back to the cracked vanity mirror in the corner.

“Ready then? Let’s get going.”

The familiar smell of instant ramen makes Jax and Mari’s loft feel a little more homey; for Nadya anyway. Lily joins her girlfriend by the single stove and inhales with deep longing. They share a brief kiss before Maricruz gives Adrian her approval with a nod.

“‘Sex hair’ is a good look on you. For a dude.”

Jax and Kamilah look their way from where they sit across from one another at the small table. The sight reminds Nadya to make sure to check in on Brandon and Greer when this is all over.

Please let this all be over soon.

Nadya goes to sit on Kamilah’s side when Adrian pulls out a chair for her before first taking his own; wedges her in between the Council (well, former Council now) vampires like her personal bodyguards.

“We don’t know how long we’re going to be hiding out here, Kamilah. You should work to blend in.”

Adrian’s comment draws a slow roll of her eyes. The moment she saw him safe and sound in person was the moment things started to back to normal for the closed-up vampiress. Already Nadya’s found it practically impossible to get any sort of physical affection from her.

She gives him the same brush-off. “I see no point in a ruse no one will believe.”

Across the table Jax doesn’t look up from where he’s scrubbing ash out of his jacket but he does cough out a laugh. “At least someone’s honest.”

But Adrian disagrees. “There are over a hundred vampires — at least — scouring New York for us. That’s not even taking into account who from our own Clans may have decided to turn traitor…” His voice grows a sharp edge. “We already know of at least one.”

Nicole. Her name and presence lingers over them like a cold breath. Now that her hand is healed courtesy of Mari’s blood she wouldn’t mind sustaining a repeat injury.

He continues, “We may be safe down here for now but this isn’t a permanent solution.”

“You’re damn right it isn’t.”

Nadya stops mid-thanks at Lily for bringing her over a bowl of ramen to glare Jax’s way.

“Hey — come on, now. We’re in this together.”

“You will hold up your end of our bargain,” Kamilah adds.

As his deputy takes her seat and pulls Lily into her lap Jax makes a gesture of slamming his wooden brush against the table surface. Hot broth slips from Nadya’s spoon and narrowly misses her thigh.

He looks at Kamilah with the same challenge as he had earlier.

“As far as I’m concerned any bargain of ours is done,” he growls, “you needed help getting Abercrombie here out of the Baron’s cells and that’s what we did. Giving him safe harbor in the Shadow Den is pretty much where my generosity ends when it comes to the likes of you. Don’t think I’ve forgotten anything that the Clans have done to me and mine up until now.”

Nadya can feel Kamilah’s aura change beside her. It makes her stomach turn; makes her a little less starving than she was a moment ago.

But before she can reach out and try to take the woman’s hand Adrian takes them all by surprise — leans forward on his elbows with laced fingers in front of a grim frown.

“We’re not trying to cast any of that aside.”

“Good. Then we can start talking about your reparations.”

“Now?” Adrian can’t keep a cool face. He isn’t the only one, either.

Maricruz winds one of Lily’s locs around her wrist — playing with it like it’s alive; a pet snake of some sort. “Not that anyone asked for my advice but if your goal is to keep on living then staying in town isn’t the best idea.”

“By now I suspect all public and conventionally private ways off of the island are well-guarded by their Clans.” Kamilah points out.

“Not to mention with the influence Vega has alone?” It makes Nadya shudder. “I’m afraid to see tonight’s paper. My Raines Corp. ID photo isn’t exactly the most flattering.”

“Really,” Jax snaps, “that’s what you’re worried about?”

“No, but if you really want to know everything I’m worried about I’d get comfortable because we could be here a while.”

The hunger is definitely starting to make her crabby — she starts eating so there’s something stopping her from running her mouth. They need to come up with a plan but nothing will get done if they’re at each other’s throats like this.

Pun not intended — but appreciated. Even if it’s only appreciated by her.

His chair squeaks when Jax stands up; tugs his jacket on with jerking motions. “I’ll say this one more time just in case you weren’t paying attention,” he leers at Kamilah and Adrian, “Mari and I risked our skins to get you out of there. I know firsthand how terrible the Cellars can be. But don’t think I did it out of pity or a sense of justice — she-witch here says you care about my people? Prove it. Start fixing what you broke.”

And Adrian takes every punch like a champ — sits there with the same calm and collected face he uses for business meetings, conference calls. The moment Jax starts harping on Kamilah, though, he looks ready for a fight.

Whether it’s the vampire feud or the rush of testosterone Nadya can’t tell — either way something’s gonna give, and soon.

So she gives first.

“Okay, Jax. Cool. We’ll keep that in mind.” Do not. Do not. Do not dare start something…

Adrian doesn’t. Jax turns away. No resolution is still better than conflict in her book.

The silence that follows is just plain weird. Even Lily — a master in the art of distraction-by-small-talk — starts trying to teach herself to whistle.

Finally Mari taps her girlfriend off of her; says more with her eyes than her words and Lily gives a sheepish “well, we’ve got work to do so…” to signal their hasty departure.

“You guys aren’t really going to run, are you?” Nadya surprises herself by asking.

She wouldn’t blame them if they did. It’s the smart thing, the tactical thing to do; try and get as far from the Council’s influence as possible and regroup; gather their strength then return to kick butt ten-fold.

Adrian sighs. “Nadya, please understand —”

He falls silent when Kamilah holds up a hand. The woman wets her bottom lip and when she speaks her words are, as ever, carefully chosen.

“Only once in my life have I turned tail to fight another day. At the time it was better to lose the battle for the sake of the war. And such cowardice has haunted me ever since.

“This is not a war — this is a mad scramble for power by creatures who think they understand what power truly is. I—we—will show them what it means to hold real power; and what happens to those who dare cross it.”

And then there were two.

Whether Adrian takes in the room around them because of natural curiosity or because he can’t look Nadya in the eyes — it doesn’t matter. She’s suddenly entranced by the way her hands look in her lap anyway.

She wants to go after Kamilah so bad but loyalty to Adrian keeps her seated right where she is. Doesn’t stop her from yearning, fleeting looks in the direction of the hall.

“Go ahead.”

When Nadya looks Adrian is standing; messing with the supposedly ‘perfect’ look that she and Lily had given him earlier. Less pressed lines and seamless folds; like the real Adrian is being revealed by shedding skin.

She pushes her chair in — goes to follow but Adrian stops her with a gentle hand.

“No, not with me.” He jerks his head aside. “I think it’s best if I do some thinking alone, anyway.”

It makes Nadya scoff. “No way — I’m not letting you go out into the plaza alone.”

“What, do you think I can’t take care of myself or something?”

“Well if the last few days are any evidence…”

“Nadya.”

“What if you’re recognized? What if they try to attack you?”

She’s just making up excuses. They both know it. Just like they both know she wants to take the opportunity he’s giving her but lord she’s terrified.

“I can take care of myself.” With both hands firmly on her shoulders Adrian looks down into her eyes — just like he used to back at the office. Before she knew he was a vampire; before everything that’s happened. “Right now it looks to me like Kamilah’s the one who needs a little help being taken care of.”

There’s a twinkle in his eye as he says it; his approval. Not that she needed it but it definitely doesn’t hurt.

“Be careful, promise?”

“Of course.”

“No, you have to promise.”

She slips between his hands and wraps him in a tight hug. Not warm or cozy; he’s solid. And that’s what she’s grown to count on more than anything else. Because if he’s solid that means he’s there, and if he’s there that means he’s safe — that means she helped.

“Promise?” Nadya asks in a whisper.

“I promise.”

Kamilah’s stagnant figure in the middle of the hallway catches her off guard. Makes Nadya wonder if she made the wrong choice in trying now, of all times, to try and get the vampiress to talk.

She doesn’t have to clear her throat. Kamilah probably can’t hear anything over the thundering of her heartbeat.

“I…” Kamilah’s voice falters and doesn’t that set Nadya on edge, “I realized I have nowhere to…”

It’s not just Adrian who has lost everything in all this. Even if Kamilah chose to stay above ground the entire Council would be on her in an instant. Who else would break all the rules to rescue him if not for her?

She left to find some peace but there’s no peace to be found in a home that isn’t hers.

At her side Nadya gingerly takes Kamilah’s hand in hers — keeps it chaste; like a light at the end of a tunnel. “Here, this way.” And Kamilah follows.

She closes the door to Lily’s room behind them. Roommates again — until the end probably. But she knows her best friend wouldn’t mind sharing the space if only to help wash that lost look off of Kamilah’s normally confident features.

At least she looks a little bit like herself when her nose crinkles at the sight of Lily’s mess.

“It’s no penthouse condo, but…”

“No,” Kamilah contradicts, “no it… it is more than I have, and that is more than enough.”

Nadya rubs her hands over her bare arms quickly before common sense kicks in — brings her to the small and ancient space heater in the corner which comes to life with only a little fight.

Kamilah watches with unnerving focus. “Are you cold?”

“Yeah. Living underground must be great when you can’t feel the chill but some of us are still alive.” She tries to laugh — to make it a joke. Kamilah must not find it that funny.

The longer they stand the more the space between them feels less like a room and more like a chasm. One Nadya isn’t sure she can leap across.

Her dumb rambling mode kicks in in tandem with what Kamilah’s been holding back.

“So there’s this guy who sells —”

“We never discussed what happened —”

It’s so quiet a pin dropping could shatter someone’s eardrum.

“You—uh—You go first.” Nadya takes up the edge of the bed.

The woman in front of her isn’t the Kamilah she’s used to; still full of things unsaid as always but rather than picking them apart piece-by-piece and taking command she seems unsure. Hesitancy isn’t a good look on her.

“Very well.”

“‘Course.”

“We never discussed what happened in the Council chamber.” Not what she was hoping Kamilah wanted to talk about.

“I didn’t think we had to. We were both there.”

“You know it isn’t the trial I’m referring to.”

Yeah, she knows. She just doesn’t want to think about it. Thinks if she ignores it for long enough maybe it just never happened. That could be said about a lot of things that’ve gone down lately.

There’s a smooth finger under her chin and it brings her to look up; Kamilah suddenly closer than close. The overhead lightbulb hidden just behind her head casts her in a halo of light.

“Tell me what you know.”

“I… I can’t.” If I do you’ll pull away from me.

“It may be difficult to recall, but please try.”

“No, I physically can’t.” You’ll think there’s something wrong with me. I think there’s something wrong with me.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Kamilah…” Kamilah…

“Nadya, I beg of you.”

She’s so scared her mind doesn’t automatically slide into the gutter and that says everything. Makes Nadya swallow down the bile rising in the back of her throat. She closes her eyes.

It’s not like pulling up a dream — struggling to remember things beyond the strange details that make dreaming fun. No… it’s like unlocking a steel safe. It’s like opening a dam. No.

It’s breaking a dam.

And with nothing to hold them back the floodwaters rush forward in a churning mass of black water. Fill the room and seep into her lungs in their desperate attempt to consume every inch of her existence. The words burst from her. Tumble over one another giddy with freedom and eager to see the world beyond.

She tells Kamilah about the voices outside Marcel’s library. About the Painting within. Tries to conjure up some definition — old or new — to explain the emotion she felt when looking at it but it falls flat so she just moves on.

On to the nightmares that came after. The sticky, wet feeling of blood coating her body that she can’t scrub away no matter how hard she tries. Knowing the taste of Kamilah’s lips with the breath of a dying man still lingering on the tip of her tongue. Feeling victory and rage and the lust of the kill that she should never ever have to feel to begin with. Seeing Adrian as Soldier and Kamilah as Queen.

“And when you told Jax —” how Kamilah can understand her through her blubbering tears and pain she doesn’t know; is just thankful she’s not being asked to keep herself together, “— when you told him ‘never again’ I knew. I knew what you meant. I could see it.”

“Tell me what you saw.”

“The corpses and the ash. The blood on your faces but… but it wasn’t their blood. It was yours — your kind.”

“Other vampires.”

“Mm,” she nods, “and the… the pain of the fallen kingdom and the promise of the new one. His promise.” Please dear god don’t make me say his name.

Kamilah doesn’t; she’s not doing a lot of things which is the scary part. Hovers over her now more of a demon behind firelight than anything with a holy halo and at first Nadya was glad it shadowed the look in Kamilah’s eyes but now she’s afraid of what’s being hidden; the revulsion — the judgment.

“And the throne?”

Even the word ignites a white-hot pain in her skull. Makes Nadya press the heels of her palms against her temples and clench her teeth and beg for it to end. She knows how to make it stop — she just doesn’t want to do it. Because talking about it makes it real. More than that it hurts Kamilah.

Cool ice brushes beads of sweat aside; moves little wisps of hair out of her eyes. Kamilah’s touch is still soft. Kind.

“It was his. His throne, his empire, his kingdom and crown and… and you took it all away.”

Nadya watches her own trembling hand reach up and cup the curve of Kamilah’s cheek. “You took away everything he built. Threw it back in his face. He built you a dynasty and you drowned it in his blood.”

Even if everything else is a fever-dream; a hallucination brought on by god-knows-what to torture her and proven to be nothing more than the result of a lifetime of bad choices and a crazy imagination… she’s certain in that. Certain in the only steady words she’s managed so far.

She knows it. Kamilah knows it too.

The same cold covers Nadya’s hand; not ice but the vampire’s touch. Holds her there; holds them connected in an intimacy she isn’t sure she deserves.

“I’m scared —” an exhale, “— KamilahI’msoscared.”

If Kamilah pulls away Nadya isn’t sure what would become of her. She feels incorporeal — nonexistent. Like a voice on the wind narrating the story but without a place in it.

But she stays. She keeps Nadya grounded. Roots her to the earth until she has the energy to find her body on her own.

What happens now?

Her body screams loud enough for Kamilah to hear — thankful she doesn’t have to physically ask.

“The things you have endured alone… why did you not share them; not even with your friend? Did you think she wouldn’t believe you?”

“No, she would…”

“Then why?”

Nadya takes in a breath so deep her lungs strain against capacity. The pain calms her racing mind.

“Because saying it aloud made it real. And I didn’t want it to be real.”

Suddenly the overhead light blinds her and Nadya throws the back of her hand over her eyes. Feels the place where Kamilah and her meet move down until she can see the woman on bended knee.

“You know more about events long gone than anyone left alive. Not just of Adrian, of the Council, of… of myself…” She fights down her words — something exists she isn’t yet ready to say. “You know of things Adrian and I would never have you know for fear you would see our true monstrosity.”

“What? Kamilah—no—I—”

A finger presses to her lips. “I see your pain, Nadya. I see what this burden has done to you. And I’m sorry — I’ve failed you. I can’t give you your answers when there are none to give.”

“You don’t know what’s wrong with me?” Kamilah shakes her head. Nadya’s heart sinks — there goes the small grain of hope she had that in her centuries of life Kamilah might know something.

Kamilah’s rueful laugh takes them both by surprise. “Of all the vampires for you to endure the memories of, too. I knew him better than anyone and even I would not suffer what lurked around in his twisted mind.”

“… Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Their eyes meet sharply. Kamilah eases herself back onto the bed beside Nadya and, in a completely unprompted display of affection, coaxes her to lay on her side with her head in the woman’s lap.

“Forgive me. I spoke without thinking.”

“It’s okay,” if this is Kamilah’s idea of apologizing she’s so happy to forgive her. “There’s just one thing.”

“Hm?”

“If you think you see me blushing it’s — well I’m not. I know it looks like I am but it’s just the crying. Crying makes me blush.”

She looks up to an amused sparkle in the woman’s eyes. The feeling of sharp nails carding through her scalp is soothing — a constant motion that doesn’t require remembering or crying or trying to speak through the pain. She basks in it selfishly.

“Which is it,” muses Kamilah, “are you not blushing, or are you blushing but from the tears?”

While Nadya gapes like a trout the figure above her seizes advantage of the opportunity. Leans down and lets cold lips linger on her feverish brow.

“Initially I found your expressions overzealous and unnecessary,” comes a whisper in Nadya’s ear, “but now I think I’ve become fond of their dramatiquement.”

“Well I am a bit of an acquired taste.”

“Not by Adrian’s description.”

Every thought both good and bad flies out her ears at that — gives her brain less distraction and lets it focus on the dusting trail Kamilah creates down to the dip of her chin. Her throat just beyond.

Nadya holds her breath. Stares wide-eyed up at the uncovered light until she doesn’t have to blink to see spots and then some. Just waits.

And though her body tenses in the anticipation of pain Kamilah isn’t deterred — lands a kiss to the hollow near her chin before righting herself back above.

“Breathe, Nadya.”

She obeys a little too enthusiastically. At least one of them finds it funny.

“God, I’m such a soggy pancake.” Probably not the thing to say. Who explains that to someone who was alive before pancakes even existed? Not that it stops her rambling from trying. “It’s — uh — Lily and I, we —”

“Say no more.”

“Yup, good idea.”

But now the vampire’s interest is piqued. “Care to explain why you are… as you said?”

No, she’d really not care to in the slightest.

“Because this is definitely not when I had in mind when we came in here.”

The nails stop mid-stroke. It takes Nadya way too long to realize they won’t start again until she continues. If Kamilah knows her weak spots already she’s doomed — no question.

She squirms but complies; “I guess I just… we went into the trial but kissed before that and I thought, you know, with Adrian out of immediate danger we might take the time to — you know — just…”

“Sleep together again?”

“You’re laughing at me.”

“Not outwardly. Ah ah —” before Nadya can turn away in shame Kamilah’s grip tightens in her hair; keeps her right where she’s wanted, “— did I say you could move?”

How the hell does someone answer something like that? “N—o…?”

“Correct. Stay.”

She stays. Oh boy does she stay.

Over her head Kamilah looks thoughtful. Hums so low it’s a catlike purr while she loses herself in her thoughts and Nadya’s hair.

“Though we are out of the immediate danger, it would be best to wait until we can fully dedicate a time to discuss what happened before the trial.”

And because it isn’t the ‘making you quiver in orgasm was fun but doesn’t bear repeating’ she was expecting Nadya stops breathing again. This time, though, it’s a good thing.

“I’d like that.”

Kamilah drags a fingertip over the round of her cheek. “I would as well.”

She’s seen the kind of strength older vampires can have; seen Kamilah lift a stone slab like it was nothing and the power of the Council combined fighting off a wall of greying snarling Ferals.

But all of the vampires — at least the ones she’s met — in the Shadow Den seem pretty new to the life. Maricruz is the oldest around as far as she’s aware. And if older vampires somehow wander into the strange life of the outcasts they likely don’t stay long.

So it makes her wonder just how many of the Shadow Den’s loyal gathered together to help move the old and worn stone fountain from the surface down below to the center of the plaza. And did they know, heave-hoing together, what their teamwork was going to be used for?

When asked why the plaza’s community avoided even looking at the fountain and the shrine it had become, Lily had told her that it was a thing of respect; “Some of them don’t want to look at familiar faces,” she’s said, “and those who don’t know anyone just feel uncomfortable seeing the dead. They might not be human anymore but that… that stays with them — us.”

Which means Nadya isn’t surprised to find the end of the plaza occupied by the fountain’s importance mostly empty. She’s gotten used to it.

Adrian hasn’t.

It must be daytime up top; stalls unoccupied and vendors packed away for their hours of sleep. She’s struggling keeping a body clock these days but habit is habit.

The center piece of the fountain must once have been three or more people; their humanoid shapes remain but the rest has been chipped away or eroded from the seasons. Discolor and rust still runs freely where water used to pour. The base of the fountain is wide and still empty; sprawls outward to a short stone wall that acts as a rim.

It’s just as ramshackle as the rest of the Den but that doesn’t stop it from looking out of place. More like it belongs in a Roman ruin than underneath the old subway tunnels of Manhattan.

“Can I join you?”

Adrian doesn’t say anything — which isn’t a no — so Nadya steps over the rim and sets herself on the rim beside him.

The light of dozens of candles flicker in his eyes. It’s how he would look in a church, Nadya thinks. Can’t get the image out of her mind once she sees it. Adrian in the place of a traditional mourner in front of the rows of candles placed for the memories of the dead.

There’s no breeze to make the little flames whip on their wicks. They burn constant and bright. Illuminate the polaroids, drawings, names written in both delicate cursive and angry blocked marker.

These are the fallen.

And the longer Nadya looks at him the more he changes; the more Adrian takes on each and every name, face, and candle in their memory on as his own burden.

What does someone say to that?

“I recognize a few of these faces.”

Adrian starts for her. Starts in the worst way possible and it makes her heart sink because that’s exactly what she didn’t want to her. But he wants to talk about it. Maybe he needs to.

Nadya places her hand over his; silent permission that he takes.

“When we first began the Council we knew there would be difficulty making things just; making them… amenable for all those involved. Not just because we were demanding those who followed us to change their entire way of life — but because we were still on the heels of… of the worst possible scenario. I won’t deny that on some level we were being led by our fear to force change. Or at least I was…”

She squeezes his hand. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

“I want to, Nadya.”

“But to me?”

He tears himself away from the memorial; fixes his watery eyes on her with determination.

“I think you’re the only person who might really understand.”

“Why?”

“You’ve seen both sides. You have loved ones on both sides.”

“So, what,” she snorts, “I’m Switzerland for vampires?” Bad timing for any joke. He doesn’t laugh — but doesn’t pull away.

Adrian just goes back to torturing himself with every addition to the fountain of the lost.

“We had bigger Clans at first. New York was booming, you know? It still is. But they became too hard to manage. Too many people kept toeing the line and there comes a time when ‘making an example’ becomes just pure punishment for punishment’s sake.

“So we went down, and down… to the number we have now. It was enough. Small; strict in the eyes of some like Marcel or the Families in the South, but enough. And we made it clear that if our laws weren’t to your liking then you could leave and find a living somewhere else.”

“But —” She stops herself; literally bites her tongue. It’s not her place to argue. She doesn’t know what it must have been like to make those choices.

Only Adrian’s feeling a little masochistic at the moment so he urges her to continue with a look.

She sighs — tries again; “But… well, think about how that sounds, Adrian. You’re telling people to agree to your terms or leave what might be the only lives they’ve ever known; the only place they’ve ever lived.”

“If they wanted to Turn that badly then they would have to live with the risks and consequences.”

“But you’re acting like everyone has that choice.” It was a naive way of thinking and maybe something she would still think if not for Lily — having to make that choice for someone was the hardest in the world. It makes her think of Liv, and the little girl Jax doted on named Lulu, and Jeremy who sells the roasted nuts. None of them had a choice.

And those were only the ones she’d met.

“I’m sorry — I shouldn’t have —”

“No, you’re right. And maybe that kind of thinking would have helped things change earlier… when they needed to. Not now when it feels like it’s too late.”

Both of Nadya’s hands on his forces Adrian to drag himself away from his self-imposed punishment of witness again. She feels for him — feels with him — but refuses to let him wallow here in self-pity.

“I refuse to let you wallow here in self-pity,” says Nadya because sometimes she just can’t not speak her mind, “because it’s not too late. You can make changes.”

“But all the casualties…”

“You can’t bring them back; no. But you can make sure they don’t need to bring down another one of these things when they run out of space.”

It gets the barest quirk at the corner of his lips. Better than nothing. Nadya reaches up and brushes a strand of hair out of his eyes — anything less than Wall Street is not his look and that’s just the fact of the matter.

She continues; “You want to help, Adrian. That’s so important. And you will help, too, trust me on that. Only when your name is cleared and you’re safe, though.”

His glance is harrowed with a worry he works hard to keep below the surface. “You make it sound simple. It won’t be — please know that.”

“Oh trust me — I do,” god she does, “but at this point if I don’t try to lighten the mood then no one will, and imagining you all trying to get this done with a big dark cloud over your heads is honestly giving me massive anxiety.”

Because he’s Adrian he turns a simple hand-hold in solidarity into putting his arm around her shoulder and pulling her in close against him. She snakes her arm around his waist and does the same — lets the world know there shouldn’t even be an atom of space between them.

When things are better — when things are right again — this is how it should be. How it will be.

“There are days when I regret ever bringing you into my world Nadya,” whispers Adrian against her hair, “because you’re human — so wonderfully human — and you shouldn’t have to see the ugly parts of the world like this. You shouldn’t be in danger like this.”

It takes her a second to find something to grab onto but she manages to pinch his side as hard as she can. He doesn’t even flinch.

“Shut up and stop thinking like that. I chose this — remember? I chose to know.”

“And I thank whatever gods there are that you did.”

They pull back and exchange familiar smiles. “Really?”

“I don’t think I would have made it this far without you; so yes.”

“Just consider me your lucky charm.” It might not be the biggest smile in the world but it’s not as hard to muster this time around.

Nadya stands and pulls him up by his hand; makes sure he doesn’t trip over the fountain rim and tugs even harder so he doesn’t look back one last time. “Come on — we have a game plan to get to.”

“Wait, don’t we have to actually plan first?”

“Yeah yeah, that too.”

It’s hard for Nadya to give her presentation with even a percentage of her usual flair without the proper materials. But Lily could only find her markers in three different colors and while she’d rather make use of the Raines Corp. brilliant smartboard she makes do with a flattened cardboard box and extra imagination.

With everything scribbled down, bullet-pointed, and circled for extra emphasis she caps her marker for a final time and rounds on the balls of her feet to face the captive audience.

“So… what do we think?”

Jax scoffs and slips lower into his chair. “I know what I think.” He has to quickly duck a punch from Lily, who reaches over Maricruz to do it, and while Nadya’s thankful for the support she has to shake her head.

“No no, we need to be honest about this or it’ll never work. Go ahead, Jax.”

He straightens. “It’s a crazy, dumb plan. And it doesn’t even get us to the people we need to get to.”

“Yeah, I dunno chica — I think he has a point,” Mari shrugs beside him, “why would we go after these small fish instead of the big catch? Sure we’re not enough numbers to take on their whole Clans but, I dunno, get them all in one room and we’d probably hold our own pretty well.”

She gets it, she does, but Nadya’s already gone over everything three times; a feat to be memorialized taking into account her lack of coffee the last few nights.

“One more time — I’m only saying this one more time!” She goes to smack a marker against her makeshift board and instead it goes flying into the corner of the room.

“At the trial everything was going pretty decent — barring, uh, Adrian being in a torture chair — until two key things happened. One: using Nicole as his key witness. Both of them lied about having documents and evidence and whatever they needed to make Adrian look bad, which means they’re in it together. Vega knew Nicole’s testimony would be taken seriously because of her status in the company —”

“— and because of our longstanding history together.” Adrian finishes for her; grits his teeth and she can hear the crack and grind of his knuckles as he keeps himself in check.

“Exactly. And if they’re in cahoots — Lily stop laughing — then that means Vega’s promised Nicole something. We need to find out what that is.”

“Probably something to dislodge the stick from her…”

“Lily!”

She holds up her hands in a dramatic claim of innocence; doesn’t stop from high-fiving Mari.

After a sigh Nadya continues; “Then there’s the Trinity. I’m sorry, but you vanish for almost a century and then just so happen to reappear at the same party that gets attacked, and come forward as witnesses against a guy you don’t even know for no obvious reason because — what — you’re good-hearted people? Nope; I’m not buying it.

“They’re in league with Vega somehow. I don’t even want to start thinking about how, or why, or whatever, but they lied about Adrian’s alibi and that’s what made Vega’s case in the end. So if we find out why they lied and what they’re getting out of it we might be able to… I dunno; re-negotiate? Or change their minds, or something.”

“But we’re not doing that for Nicole, right?”

“Not a chance.”

Kamilah switches her crossed legs and stares at the board with a pensive frown. “While a sound theory — it operates under a great deal many assumptions. And they will not take lightly to accusations without proof.”

“Well we may be a little short on proof, but I’ve got plenty of enthusiasm and I find that usually makes up for most things.” For example: the fact that she’s utterly terrified to see Valdas and Isseya again; yet still continues on with enthusiasm despite the fear.

Mari raises her hand — humoring her only just since she doesn’t wait before speaking. “So who do we pin down first?”

“Ah, yes, see, that’s the problem. One’s gonna alert the other no matter what — Vega and the Council too no doubt — so…”

“So we divide and conquer.”

All eyes on Adrian gravely rubbing his chin. “It isn’t an ideal plan but this isn’t an ideal situation. At least if we get at both on separate fronts we can buy ourselves just enough time to skip town should things go badly.”

Kamilah nods. “Agreed.”

“So who goes where?” asks Nadya.

“As much as I’d like to confront Nicole about what she’s done I don’t want to risk being seen entering the building. She knows the ins and outs of that place just as well as I do — any underground entrance will be covered during the day and at night I’ve no doubt she’s got Clan backup. Kamilah, Nadya — you two would be in the same danger.”

“Well that solves it quickly —” Lily starts pointing fingers, “— Team Clanless gets to B-and-E Raines Corp. again and Team Partycrashers go after the rich bitches.”

Out of all the stunned faces it’s Adrian who recovers first. “Team… what?”

“It was spur of the moment. I’ll think of something better.”

But it’s a sound idea — makes the most sense. There’s no way she’s letting Adrian confront the Trinity alone; even if she has to swallow down the memory of Isseya’s clawed hand around her throat.

“We have a plan then.” Nadya tries not to sound so hesitant — either shares the feeling with everyone else or they’re content to ignore it for her.

Jax glances at Lily’s watch. “Four in the afternoon — we’ve got three hours to prepare what we can. We meet at the van and split once we’re above ground…” He trails off, seems unsure if he should keep going — does anyway. “Should we make a plan for after; set up a rendezvous point?”

Nobody answers. They’re all thinking the same thing: there’s being optimistic and then there’s being foolish — and trying to plan that far ahead is definitely foolish.

They go their separate ways yet again. Nadya watches turned backs wade through the tension all the way up to their waists.

Three hours to overthink everything. That’s what her brain says; screams it actually.

Then there’s a soft hand on her hip and the familiar smell of Kamilah’s perfume behind her. A thumb stroking under her shirt makes her thoughts fade to whispers. Lips on her neck make her weak in the knees.

Her chin is tilted aside in a kiss and her mind goes blissfully blank.

[1dfangirls35]

Voir Dire- N.H

A fake dating AU about contracts, soulmates and risking it all for love.

Masterlist // Tell Me What You Think!

thirteen

There are certain phone calls you don't want to receive in your life. For some, it's the dreaded voice of a telemarketer asking you to buy their product. For others, it's the 2 am phone call from their ex who is plastered at the bar. For Niall, it was the angry voice of Mike, his agent, asking who on earth the girl was he was papped with the night before.

"Wait what?" Niall asked, his mind trying to comprehend the endless attack of words coming at him from the other side of the phone. He's not sure he's ever heard this kind of anger leave his agent's mouth before. 

"The girl. Who is she Niall?"

Niall was silent for a moment. Who was Kelsey? Who should he say she is? Would it be better to come clean? Explain that this was a girl that he was developing feelings for and that this relationship was far more real than anything the PR team could have written up? Or should he write Kelsey off as a nobody and hope that the team puts it to rest?

"She's..."

"She's not your girlfriend, Niall," Mike interrupted before Niall had a chance to say otherwise. "Michaels wants to meet with you. 1pm. If I were you I'd come bearing an apologetic face and some sort of solution to this PR nightmare." And with that, the phone call ended.

Niall slammed his phone down on his crisp white bedspread with a thud. Then he sat down, setting his head in his hands. This was the worst case scenario. This was exactly the situation that he had been trying to avoid.

"What's wrong?" Kelsey asked, entering the room from her shower with a towel wrapped around her torso and her wet hair forming a small puddle on the floor.  She wasn't sure she'd ever seen a face like this on Niall before, this look of fear. Almost as if he'd seen a ghost.

Niall pondered whether or not he should bring Kelsey into this. It wasn't her fault that they were caught by a camera or that they'd even been in that situation in the first place. If he leaves her out of it, he can be in and out of a meeting with Alan Michaels at Capitol without her being any the wiser. Taking that route keeps Kelsey from having to worry, or worse feeling guilty for going out to dinner in the first place.

But then a different thought crosses his mind. Maybe this wasn't a problem at all. Maybe this was an opportunity. Maybe this was just what they needed to have a shot at a real relationship, the kind that didn't involve baseball caps and restaurant back rooms and sneaking around as not to be spotted.

"It appears that our outing last night was not quite as stealthy as we had hoped," Niall admitted, eyeing Kelsey carefully to gauge her reaction.

Kelsey felt her stomach drop. Last night had been perfect. It had been the first time that she truly felt like what she and Niall had wasn't just some hidden behind-the-scenes love affair. It felt like a normal date. The things a normal couple would do. And now, the thing that Niall had feared the most had come true.

This was all her fault, if she hadn't pushed Niall. If she hadn't been so insecure about the standing of their relationship they never would have been put in this situation.

"Don't you dare start thinking this is your fault," Niall seemingly read Kelsey's mind. He comes over where she is standing, grabbing her hands and squeezing them between his.

"I..." Kelsey began to argue back but then realized that was exactly what she was thinking. "Well, What are you going to do?"

"I think that maybe..." Niall paused, hardly believing he was about to say the words aloud. "I think maybe we tell them about us."

"What?" Kelsey exclaimed. "Are you crazy?!" She couldn't believe that Niall was even considering the idea, especially with how he'd described the label's representatives so far.

"Maybe a little bit," Niall laughed nervously. "But if you think about it, what did they hire Krystal for in the first place? They hired her to show that I was in love. That my new album wasn't all heartbreak and loneliness. So what difference does it make if I'm in a relationship with a hired actress or someone that I'm actually interested in? In fact, I would argue that if we used our relationship instead, it would be more authentic and better for the image in the long run."

"I think you are overlooking one minor detail Niall," Kelsey said, taking a seat on the bed. She didn't want to get her hopes up. Sure, she'd love to be seen out in public with Niall, but she had a feeling it would be far more complicated than that. "If you start dating me, you are going to have to dump Krystal."

"And?" Niall asked, his voice growing excited as he began to further think about how this was actually the perfect solution. "People in Hollywood break up all the time. It's nothing new."

"I just think its going to be more complicated then you think Ni."

"So you don't want me to go through with it? You want me to keep up this act with Krystal and keep sneaking around? I thought you wanted a real relationship?" Niall replied with confusion.

"Of course I want a real relationship, Niall," Kelsey said, grabbing his hand and pulling him to sit beside her. "I would love to be able to do what we wanted without worrying about someone spotting us." She squeezed Niall's hand, letting him know that there was nothing she wanted more in the world. "But I just don't want you to jump into this decision. This is your career we're talking about."

"I've already made my decision, Kels. Mike told me to come bearing a solution and this is it. You are my solution." He reached a hand up and brushed Kelsey's cheek. "Just trust me on this, everything is going to be okay."

Kelsey nodded her head in agreement. But she still couldn't shake the feeling that this meeting wasn't going to go as planned.

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

The Capitol Records building is just as fancy as you would expect the office of a premier icon of the music industry. Modern décor, framed albums and autographed photos. The ambience would be intimidating to someone entering for something as casual as a tour, let alone a someone entering for a meeting with executives.

Kelsey felt her heart racing as she entered the elevator. Niall must have sensed her nervousness, because he grabbed her hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze as the elevator makes its ascent. She wondered what they would do when they saw her with him. Would they yell at her? Demand that she leave the building immediately? Or would they shake her hand and ask her about herself, to see that maybe she was in fact, the perfect person for Niall Horan to be dating in the midst of his album promotion?

As they get off they elevator, they were greeted by a stoic looking red head with her hair slicked back in a ponytail so tight it looked like it was squeezing her head. "Have a seat right there, Mr. Michaels will be right with you."

They took a seat on a slick, black leather loveseat. Kelsey could tell Niall was nervous by the way that he was chewing at his fingertips. Mr. Michaels is large, bald man with a freshly ironed suit and red tie that only adds to his intimidating aura. Kelsey can't help but think that he looks somewhat familiar, but she can' t place. Maybe he'd been a patron at The Manhattan or perhaps she'd simply passed him on the street.

"Mr. Horan," he grumbled, offering out his hand which Niall quickly stood and shook. He looked towards Kelsey, shooting her a mischievous smile. "And Miss Benton, what a pleasant surprise."

Niall looked over at Kelsey with a confused glance. "Didn't think I'd have done my research so quickly Mr. Horan? I'm offended," Mr. Michaels chuckled. He adjusted his tie before taking a step back towards his office. "Well I believe we have some business to attend to, shall we?"

Niall stood and Kelsey stood up following him. Mr. Michaels took a seat behind a large glass desk as Kelsey and Niall sat in two hard metal chairs in front of him. Mr. Michaels clasped his hands in front of him before clearing his throat loudly. "So let me guess, both of you are here today because you'd like your relationship to take the place of the one that we've hired Miss Hoffman for?"

Niall gulped. The stare Mr. Michaels was giving him wasn't one that reflected him thinking this was a brilliant idea by any means. He tried to mentally remind himself of all the points he had come up with on the drive over. All the reasons he could convince Michaels and the rest of the PR team that this was all a benefit to his album sales, and not a detriment. But in this moment, he couldn't seem to come up with any of them. Instead he muttered a shaky, "That would be correct, sir."

"A question for you Miss Benton," Mr. Michaels declared rather than asked. Kelsey nodded her head slowly. "What do you know about dating a celebrity?" His eyes latch onto Kelsey's and she felt her already pounding heart increase in speed. 

"I mean, I know there is always the risk of being caught by the paparazzi's. And that there are a lot of performances and appearances," she glanced over at Niall hoping for some reassurance. He offered her the slightest of smiles. "And I know that you have to grow a thick skin, because their are always going to be people: fans, media, stars, critiquing your every move." Kelsey wanted to add on that she thought she could handle it. That she realized that bringing her relationship with Niall out to the public would come with these new challenges, but that she was prepared to face them, but before she can begin to speak, Mr. Michaels has shifted his gaze towards Niall.

"And you, Mr. Horan. I'd like to hear just what you must think the benefits of dating this girl instead of Miss Hoffman are to you and your team here at Capitol. They must be good ones, hmm," Mr. Michaels raised his eyebrows. "Considering you brought Miss Benton here to our meeting today when it wasn't part of our request."

Niall looked over at Kelsey, then back at Mr. Michaels, his beady gray eyes piercing into his soul. If the goal was to make Niall feel like he had made an incredibly stupid decision then it had most definitely been accomplished, because the longer that Niall sat in this chair enduring the stare of a man who for held his music career in his hands, the smaller he felt.

"I just thought," his voice cracked. He cleared his voice, taking a deep breath and trying to command ever ounce of confidence that remained in his body. "I thought that if the whole goal of me being in a relationship this promotion cycle was that you could portray me as a guy that wasn't heartbroken, wouldn't it be more authentic if I actually was with someone who I'm developing feelings for. You of all people should know my fanbase, they aren't just naïve little girls who believe everything in front of their eyes. They investigate things, they can sense things aren't quite right. Hell, sometimes I think they know me better than I know myself!"

He glanced over at Kelsey who was giving him a reassuring smile. "The point is, I think they can sense that something isn't quite there with my relationship with Krystal. And I think this pap shot is exactly the kind of opportunity to come clean about the whole thing and just tell the truth. And then let me be in an authentic relationship. One with this amazing, smart, beautiful girl sitting next to me."

If Mr. Michaels is moved or convinced by Niall's answer, he didn't show it. Instead, his face remained blank, as he scratched his hairless head with his fingers. "And what of Miss Hoffman then, Mr. Horan?"

"I'm sure you have plenty of ways to frame the end of relationship. I mean, some stars getting a divorce nearly every other day in the newspaper."

Mr. Michaels leaned forward in his chair, picking up a black pen and rolling it between his fingers. "Let me play for a just a second...devil's advocate."

He took a long drawn out pause. Niall shifted nervously in his seat. Kelsey found herself picking at a hangnail on the edge of her thumbnail.

Mr. Michaels continued. "What happens when people hear that Niall has broken up with Krystal and is now with some other girl? They might think that you are a player, or a heartbreaker. Or maybe that you were cheating the whole time you were with Krystal." He set the pen in his hands down on the countertop once again, staring Niall down in a way that made Niall feel like he was a specimen in a lab. "Or say we go with your suggestion, Mr. Horan. We tell your fans that Krystal was just for the publicity and that in the meantime you have met someone else. Then what will they think of you. Their idol is a liar, he'll do anything to promote his music... blah blah blah, blah blah."

"Do you see why you've put the team in quite the predicament here?" Mr. Michaels leaned forward once again, closing the distance between them. "One that simply isn't solved just by 'telling the truth'. People outside the industry don't realize that there is no true honesty in the entertainment industry. It's all about perception. Public perception. Media perception. Changing that perception to fulfill your needs and goals."

Mr. Michaels stood from behind his desk, and Niall and Kelsey exchanged a confused glance. Niall wasn't sure if this meant that the team would consider his suggestion, or if Mr. Michaels had already made his decision. 

"Miss Benton, if you will have a seat back in the lobby, I believe Mr. Horan and I have a bit more to discuss," Mr. Michaels gestured towards the door as Kelsey stood up slowly. "It was a pleasure to see you again. Really was a shame the job didn't work out. But I think we made a pretty good choice with Miss Hoffman don't you think?"

That's when Kelsey finally made the connection. This man was the man sitting behind the coffee table with a stack of papers higher than any Kelsey had ever seen. The one that had asked her the strangest interview questions of her life. But that had been for a PR job Becca had told Kelsey might give her a leg up for entertainment law later in life. The job description had been vague, will little explanation of responsibilities or requirements. But that hadn't been for Krystal's job...had it?

Kelsey caught a glance of Niall's face as she exited Mr. Michaels' office. His face was formed in a scowl. He stared at her in a way that he never had before. This stare was a mix of anger, hurt and shock all in one. Kelsey wanted to stop right there and explain. Explain that she hadn't even known that the job she had applied for was to be Niall's fake girlfriend. Explain that she wouldn't have ever taken if it once she found out that was what it was. But instead she's ushered out of the office by Mr. Michaels' assistant, taking a seat on the hard black leather chair and having to let her mind wander about just what was being said in that office right now.

When Kelsey leaves the room, Niall sat for a moment stunned. The world seemed like it was moving in slow motion. At first he thought he had misheard, because how could Kelsey have applied for Krystal's job and not told him. Especially after all they'd talked about it. But the look on her face when she left the room wasn't one of shock or defensiveness. It was more of recognition, and the thought that Kelsey might have been keeping this secret from Niall was terrifying to him.

But Niall doesn't have time to linger on the thought of being betrayed, as Mr. Michaels begins to lecture once again."Mr. Horan, we expect that you will put an end to this...to this little charade of yours. When you are out of promotional season you are free to date whomever you wish, but if you'll remember our contract..."

So that was it. Niall would get no discussion. No consideration of a new plan. In fact, he was sure now that Mr. Michaels had made his decision the moment Niall and Kelsey stepped into his office. 

"Unless you don't want your album released?" Mr. Michaels added, his voice threatening. 

Niall nodded. "Of course I want the album released, I understand."

Mr. Michaels pulled out a large manila folder. He opened it, revealing a photo of Kelsey and Niall, hand and hand, walking down the Los Angeles streets. "If you are asked about these photos, she's a good friend. Nothing more. We think we've done enough that they should stay out of the press for now, but you know how things can be. But if pictures like this were to surface again, well, that could be catastrophic."

Niall knew that Mr. Michaels wasn't talking about catastrophic for Capitol Records. Mr. Michaels was hinting at catastrophic for Niall's album, his music career.

"Understood, sir," Niall said standing from his chair and begrudgingly giving Mr. Michaels a handshake. 

"End it, Niall." Mr. Michaels commanded, once more before Niall walks out the door.

Niall didn't say anything to Kelsey as he exited the office. He simply makes his way towards the elevator, Kelsey clattering behind him. Tension hangs in the elevator as they make their way back down, and Kelsey knew an explosion was coming.

They slide into the car awaiting them outside the building in silence and when the driver asks if they are going back to Niall's place or Kelsey's. She responded "Mine first," without missing a beat. 

"When I got that phone call do know what the first thing that ran through my mind was?" Niall broke the silence, his voice laced with frustration. "It wasn't the thought that I might get dropped from my label or that I wouldn't get to make music again. The first thing that came to my mind Kelsey was that they might try to get rid of you." Niall's voice continued to raise in volume, his face reddening by the second. "Do you even realize how much it scares me that I didn't for a second think that maybe I should end this. That I would literally risk my standing with the label then lose you?!"

"And then," he continued, barely even looking at Kelsey. "And then I find out that you could have been her. All this time when I told you how I just couldn't understand what kind of person would volunteer for a job like that. Well, apparently that type of person is you." His last words sting Kelsey as they leave his mouth. 

"Niall, it's not like that I can explain..." Kelsey tried to protest. She needed Niall to understand that this wasn't something that she had kept from him willingly. If she had known that the job was the one Krystal had she would have told him from the beginning.

"Explain what Kelsey? How you aren't the person I thought you were." Niall yelled, crossing his arms in front of him. The look on his face is a look of disgust, his eyes fiery. And Kelsey isn't sure that she can say anything that will change is mind. 

"I..." Kelsey began. 

"When I said no more secrets that didn't just apply to me. I thought it would apply to you to!" Niall interrupted.

"Listen to me Niall," Kelsey's voice came out for more like a yell than she intended. "I didn't know that I was applying for that job. They never told me when I interviewed. I wasn't keeping anything from you!"

"You should have something the moment you recognized him," Niall spat. 

"And what good would that have done Niall? You wouldn't have brought me into that office with you is that what you are trying to say?" Kelsey felt her pulse beating violently in her head. 

Niall didn't respond for a moment. "Maybe," he muttered, turning his gaze to look out of the car window. 

"I told you Niall, I had NO idea. You aren't even listening to me," Kelsey said with frustration, throwing up her hands. Niall didn't turn his head, instead, he kept his gaze firmly planted on the Los Angeles streets outside. He stayed that way, back turned away from Kelsey until they reach Kelsey's apartment. 

As Kelsey opened the door of the black Escalade, she wanted to say something else. To remind him that things aren't always what they seem. His relationship with Krystal had proved that. But she knew that he was in a place where he couldn't even hear the words. She knew because she'd been in that place before.

Instead, she softly spoke the question that had been burning in her mind ever since Niall exited Mr. Michaels office. "Did they tell you to end it? To end us?" Her voice comes out meek, like she's not quite sure she even wants to know the answer.

Niall turned to look at her, his face stoic. "Yes."

"Are you going to?" She asked, her voice now shaking.

"I don't know," he answered, before Kelsey stepped out the car and closed the door. Watching Niall's car drive away as she stood in shock on the sidewalk. 

Tag List:

@awomanindeniall​ @ihearthemcallingforyou @niall-is-my-dream

[p-st]

my "unkillable" quirk oc's hero name (villain? just for fun civillian name?) would absolutely be "Casualty"

a lil joke based on their casual view on death and well. death

dunno if theyd be a hero, villain, or civillian! theyre all pretty fun to explore. a vigilante would also be cool but i dont think theyd be a super morally upstanding one. definitely theyd kill a villain to restrain them bc "theyre totally fine! yeah, they're definitely dead, officer, but theyll walk it off in a few hours so it's no big!"

okay actually..thatd be a fun universe 🤔

hold on lemme just. type out loud here

Casualty: The Undying Hero! (or is it the other way around? idk how hero titles work) their wounds heal faster than most and if they “rejuvenate” you (crowdsourced name), one quick nap later you'll be good as new! (bc they also heal faster when out though not as fast as them) they will only "rejuvenate" people who have given their full consent or there is no other option (heros they work with sign contracts that give the okay and for what circumstances)(civillians give spoken consent and can request a full contract at their agency if theyre frequent fliers)

casualty decides case by case what the best course of action would be because, unfortunately, they do come across several suicidal heros and civillians alike that just want to know what its like to die. they have several connections with mental health professionals!

like eraserhead, casualty's quirk doesnt give way to much combat ability (pretty good for defense tho is still hesitant to kill someone. villain or not. some ppl can get addicted to the feeling) they compensate during fights with support tools! this isnt something ive thought about so idk what kind of fighting style theyd gear themselves towards but i think id like something pretty versatile.

also kinda looking for the secret to their death since yeah their own body can kill them but they dont really get sick and, while not immortal, they'll likely outlive everyone of their generation

Casualty: The Killer Villain! (do villains even have titles like this lol?) just THINK of the way torture would go! they can drive right up that edge and when they push a little harder and you come out the otherside unscathed you still arent safe bc youre under their whim! not a big bad with huge showy villainous actions but arguably much worse than those who make headlines.

more of an information broker! theyre the one u go to if u wanna make someone break. also takes "assassination" jobs (the PERFECT person to help you fake your death. deals identities like cards) not much in the way of morals and will give you a quick death fix but mostly to get you off their back (thinks ppl who wanna die are pretty disgusting and they revel entirely in their longlasting life. slow and steady, babey) has people contracted to kill others for them.

definitely looking for someone able to kill them. it's a big daring exciting joke to them! fellow villains will make attempts and theyll critique their effort later. also they make a very good partner for ppl trying to test out how much a new move would hurt (other villains come to these spars and time how long casualty stays down. theres a leader board for the longest time down bc it means their move was incredibly violent)

Casualty: A Name as Feared as it is Revered! (okay this one is just for fun) being able to kill but it not sticking is PERFECT for them in their mind. in this universe they couldnt think of another path being better for them (because of their black and white view of “heros save” and “villains kill” and that their quirk fits neither. not really)

theyve got a hit on them from everyone and it makes their days exciting! they compliment the more creative attempts and will drop by the place of person who killed them and leave a sticky note with a full review lol. as mentioned above, kills as a way to restrain! it's to the point where it's so common that whenever it's mentioned that they were involved w a crime a special crew comes to take care of it (you gotta be trained to compartmentalize seeing so many dead ppl that wake up kicking. it does smthn to ya)

theyll target everyone alike! heros, villains, civillians! it doesn't matter youre all ripe for the pickin! theyve got ins with a wide range of ppl and if they cant deal with them personally theyll follow what they see as the best course of action. some people deserve to be publically demolished by a hero, some deserve the horror of a villain, and some deserve the cold hand of civillian law. theyve got a little (major) god complex and believe they have the right to be the judge jury and executioner (in spirit lol) obviously this mindset isnt well received by the public (coughstainchough) but unfortunately they make good judgement calls and they usually dont get the final say in what happens to someone anyway (unless they kill the person and that person learns their lesson or whatever)

does however have a personal vendetta of reforming systems and being very against the pissing contest that are hero rankings. this occasionally makes their judgement calls biased.

the most consistent things would be:

connections. lots of them and the types of connections depend on what path theyre on. theyre good at talking

outside support in the form of weapons or people to "finish the job"

general belief that their choice is more than likely the right choice

loose morals. comes with the territory of a death based quirk

controversial in any universe (except maybe a bonus one where they claim their quirk is not being able to die and not also not being able to kill? that universe would be steeped in self hate and either a bitter death or a life dedicated to putting a mental health support system in place for people with "villainous" quirks)(actually their quirk would still be controversial bc thats the point lol)

permanent casual view on death. doesnt see the big deal

very hm. unconnected to living? sure theyre just excited to be here! but they have the most solid grasp on the inevitability of death while also not super getting that when someone dies they get to stay dead? theres also the tiniest bit of envy there

probably either never got the death talk or got it very late. no one knows how many kids were at risk while being friends with them while young bc they wouldnt put the effort into saving them from life threatening situations (bc casualty always got back up, why wouldnt anyone else)

(bonus story for above would be that once while they were a kid a friend fell off a tree and hit the ground in front of them and they just walked away to keep playing then they came back later and the friend was still there so they went to either their own parent or the kid's parents and told them "[name] is taking a long time to get back up, i wanna play again." queue the sad ending here im aiming for)

upbeat sometimes in a near manic way. genuinely happy really often and finds joy in the smallest things like a slug in the grass or a wildflower coming out of the sidewalk (life in all kinds of places in all kinds of ways!)(theyre big fans of mushrooms. in death theres life or life gives way to life or whatever. idk it's fake deep. i just think mushrooms are cool and wanna project)

anyway this is like. long as shit lol! is anyone even reading this? i love you if you are. i might try to take this character and bend it to fit some of my own worlds bc wow i think theyre cool BUT if any bnha fans ARE reading this please feel free to include them in fics or stuff if you want! link me if you do id literally fall in love (u can name them what u want, dress them how you want, give them whatever pronouns you want, etc.)(dont claim them ofc but using them is fine!)

(and if you want me to idk... flesh out a character for you? 😳 lol id be very open to that! i love worldbuilding!! you dont have to.. aha... unless..?😳😳)

[amwritingmeta]

14x14: Noah as Representative of Suppression/Repression

Dean, Sam, Cas and Jack are all at a crossroads. How huge that crossroads is and how long they’ll be stood at it, weighing their options, remains to be seen, but Yockey firmly placed them there in this episode and he did it, to my mind, through using Noah as the needed tool to up the stakes, as it were.

I wrote in an ask response about one side to Noah’s representative qualities in the narrative, where I can see his boredom with the same old routine (his fate, as he calls it) to be a reflection of Dean’s boredom with casual sex and subtle exposition of exactly why Dean hasn’t been engaging with it for so long: he craves something more satisfying. (because he’s in love) 

And though Noah is violent, he’s not violent for the sake of violence, the way Michael is shown to be at the end of this very same episode, and as such Noah isn’t, for me, a representative of toxic masculinity. Mostly because Michael so firmly holds onto that title, but also because of Noah’s distaste for having to cook humans for supper. He’d rather not, but nature left him the choice of this or death. And he’s not going to sacrifice himself, which, as far as the natural order goes, is fairly understandable.

(he’s not a human eating other humans) (he’s a demigod requiring humans for sustenance) (there’s a crude but real difference to the two concepts)

The fact that Noah isn’t a toxic masculinity representative, though, is extremely significant to me.

So, in this post I’d like to outline my thoughts on the second side to Noah’s representative qualities, as I see them, and talk a bit about the deeply ingrained patterns of suppression/repression that exists in each of our main characters.

Definitions -->

Suppression is a psychological term for when we consciously push down unwanted thoughts or urges. Used healthily this is where self-control lies, but when an unwanted emotion or urge is ignored out of fear, this suppression tactic can turn into a pattern of behaviour that may lead to unhealthy coping mechanisms (like drinking, casual sex, violent outbursts, addiction to danger etc) *side eye Dean Winchester* and irrational behaviour and lack of self-control due to lack of self-awareness.

Repression is a psychological term for when we push down unwanted thoughts, urges or very often memories into our unconscious, where our conscious mind is protected from having to deal with these particulars, because our conscious mind is kept wholly unaware that these particulars are a part of us. However, these repressed thoughts, urges or memories will push to be recognised, because anything we try to simply forget, that is deeply affecting, will never stay forgotten, and being unable to confront these buried thoughts, urges or memories may result in unhealthy outlets, such as the coping mechanisms and irrational behaviour mentioned above.

Noah

Though what exactly the gorgon represents truly is up for interpretation, the simple facts are:

Noah the gorgon in and of himself is a snake symbol, and per the ouroboros of the title, the snake symbolism in 14x14 might be leaning towards renewal, rebirth and a conjoining of opposites rather than, you know, the snake that brought knowledge to mankind and helped us rebel........ Yeah, kinda good either way you look at it, no?

Noah also Biblically brought the flood, which is a mighty symbol of rebirth, so he’s this double-edged sword where both edges spell renewal

Noah looks at you, assesses you and sees the truth of you, established with the truck driver, his note to Dean and with Jack - a bit of a narrative tie to Michael in 14x01, who blasted onto the scene reading the truth of people’s motivations left and right, and subtle foreshadowing of how Michael will shed Dean, and go looking for a new skin *shudder’

Noah enjoys both men and women (yes indeed bisexual symbol and nope I am not the first to point this out of course)

That’s the basic makeup of Noah’s demigod character, yeah?

Now, there’s a lot of moments in this episode that, to me, highlight the suppression/repression tendencies in TFW 2.0 and push for the much needed confrontation these moments lead into with Noah, as well as the repercussions that follow this very confrontation, culminating in the deaths at the bunker and Jack’s standoff with Michael.

Self-deception, thy collective face is Three Men and I’m Not a Baby -->

Sam

Darling Sam. He is so deep in his suppression of his superficial fear of how everything is not at all fine or okay, as well as in his deeply repressed fears that go back years and are a part of his identity makeup, that he can’t even stand a fair questioning from someone who knows a great deal about exactly the situation he’s putting himself in, as she later even points out in dialogue.

Sam leans heavily on the belief that everything will work out in the end, as long as they think it will, and his behaviour is, to me, a very sharp critique of the blinding power of the codependency, because the innate fears (repressed fear of failure and loss of identity) that has kept the codependency at the heart of how Sam and Dean relate themselves to each other is what is making Sam incapable of taking a step back and assessing their situation with any clarity. 

Instead, he recites the age old belief system and shuts himself off from questioning it in any way:

Dean will be okay, because Dean has to be okay. 

Jack is fine, because Jack has to be fine.

Sam’s loyalty to Dean is what makes Sam insist on Dean coming home after Sam talks Dean out of getting in that box, and then that same loyalty makes Sam insist on them acting as though everything is normal, thinking this is the only way he can support Dean, because this is how Dean has always handled every situation. 

But Sam in a leader position should think of the safety of those following him, he should see the very real threat of Michael getting free, and should take steps to protect the innocent people who end up dying at the hands of Michael.

I’m not saying their deaths are Sam’s fault, because Sam didn’t tell Michael to kill them, but their deaths are a narrative punishment for Sam’s inability to see past old patterns and learn from old mistakes.

Sam takes a huge risk bringing Dean back to the bunker, especially after he’s knocked out cold in this episode and even Cas can’t see what the hell is going on in his head, and if Sam wasn’t blinded by the patterns of the codependency, he might not have made that executive decision to begin with.

Btw, I’m also not prescribing the brothers shouldn’t have each other’s backs or should look at every dangerous situation with cold calculation, but when the lives of a group of innocent people are at stake, taking that step back and seeing the bigger picture might be preferable for everyone involved. 

Sam’s suppression/repression of his fears, and his inability to confront the fact that his fear of failure is keeping him tethered to his brother (because he’s using Dean’s presence as a security blanket, even when Sam’s the one in the leader position) is manifested through the fact that Sam can’t stop Noah, representative of suppression/repression.

Noah tosses Sam across the room like he’s made out of tissue paper because Noah represents all those things that are continually kicking Sam’s ass and making him run from taking real responsibility. 

And the way for Sam to shoulder individual responsibility and move towards his true identity, an identity that in no way is defined by his relationship to Dean? 

Well, to my mind, Sam needs to dare to believe that he’s a good and strong leader in his own right.

Sam has a default attitude of We Can Fix This Together, which is good, but that attitude without sound leadership and realistic risk assessment is bad. 

He’s the born leader. Once he’s balanced and begins to realise that teamwork still requires a strong team leader, he’ll be fucking golden.

*so Sam stating in 14x15 that he has to stop running made my heart sing* *hoping it sticks*

Dean

Dean, Dean, Dean. This episode made it very clear that he’s still very much not believing at all that there’s any way Sam and Cas can find a way to defeat Michael. He says to Cas that he promised to give them time, meaning Dean’s not part of this taking time deal. This is weighty af, because of course he’s the only one who can actually find another way, if he only dared try.

But he doesn’t dare to, because he’s completely ruled by his fear of failure, just like Sam is, only for Dean, it’s always all on him. 

If Michael gets free on his watch, it’s his fault, and he’d rather just go drop himself in the ocean than work as a team with people who might, and to his mind most likely will, get hurt in the process.

Dean’s risk assessment is always on red alert and there’s rarely any hope or trust in him - at least not on an unconscious, deeper level - that the outcome won’t be the worst case scenario, especially not now, with Michael pounding against his frontal lobe. 

Dean walks around not with a death wish, but with an acknowledgement that he’ll die on the job and with the conviction that what he wants is to go down swinging, and this conscious, defeatist attitude goes against his unconscious, true wish: to live a long and happy life.

His suppressed/repressed fears make even the thought of an actual future impossible.

His suppressed/repressed fears that are tied to his toxic masculinity armour and manifested in the toxic masculinity representative of Michael, ie Dean’s shadow-self.

And in this episode we have Dean incapable of facing his shadow-self for fear of what facing his shadow-self will mean for his ego, ie his conscious view of himself and his understanding of his own identity. 

So instead of facing his shadow-self and engaging in what Carl Jung calls shadow work, Dean has locked his shadow-self away and is, basically, holding onto Plan B, which is the equivalent of him running from the need to own up to fears that have been informing his way of relating himself to the world for far too long, and they’ve done so because rather than risk his long-held idea of who he is and who he’s been taught he needs to be (in order to keep Sam and the world safe), he’s going to put himself in a (societal) box and symbolically drown even the hope of finding internal balance.

This absolute and continued refusal to commit to change, to let go of his suppression as well as his repression of fears that have ruled him from much too young an age, lands him in a moment when facing off with the representative for that suppression/repression - Noah - brings about the narrative punishment of Dean’s worst fears coming to pass: losing his control and Michael breaking free because of it.

This punishment comes about because of the fact that Dean hasn’t been able to internally engage in shadow work, and the suppression/repression he’s engaged with instead now doing what it’s always done, which is take away Dean’s control and allow for his shadow-self to not only break free, but to actually manifest externally and wreak havoc.

But that’s not all. Oh, no.

I’ll talk about Jack a little further down.

Cas

Oh, Cas. At this point his identity confusion reaches a never before seen peak.

I mean, holy fuck, this moment is the moment when his rejection of his angel heritage is put in proper dialogue, but this rejection combined with the impossibility for him to explore what would make him truly happy means that he is stuck in identity limbo.

Not angel, not man, but a thing.

*it’s heartbreaking and stupidly exciting*

Cas is suppressing his longing for more because of his repressed fear of failure (among other fears), and this because his fear of failure is what’s crept up on him over the course of his individual arc, where he’s kept trying to help, and at every turn has faced a bigger and bigger failure, until it became impossible for him to see himself having any other use than to act the sacrificial lamb and constantly throw himself in the path of danger, without even thinking to ask himself if it was what he truly wanted for himself. 

In S4 Cas stated to Dean that he wasn’t just a hammer, but over the course of his individual arc, Cas has slowly made himself into the weapon, this when deep down he’s always been the shield, and he is innately the protector. 

Moving away from Heaven’s doctrine is essential for Cas’ character progression, and the slow nudging over the course of the last two seasons has been rather fantastic to behold, but for all his progress, Cas is now giving into his repressed fear of failure and allowing it to rule him.

Cas is choosing to maintain the status quo, and it’s gloriously frustrating to watch him simply accept the fact that he can’t ever be happy, when what he should be doing is engage in shadow work and question the validity of his shadow-self running the show.

Questioning his shadow-self and facing all those suppressed and deeply repressed fears, though, means the same as it does for Dean: answering the questions Who am I? and Who do I want to be? honestly, and for himself, and the prospect of his idea of himself having to evolve is a scary one, so no wonder he allows his shadow-self to dictate the terms.

Cas comes face to face with Noah and lo and behold, what happens is quite intriguing as Noah slaps Cas twice on each cheek, almost as if to chastise him for sleepwalking through his life, and then Noah kisses Cas on the cheek, effectively paralysing him.

It comes across as a rather marvellous visual manifestation of how Cas’ suppression/repression of his own true wants and needs is paralysing him, leaving him complacent to a fate that he believes is inevitable.

But...

Jack

So then. Jack. This formidable knitting point. This gorgeous narrative tool. This amazing mirror for all of TFW, full of expositional prowess and symbolic value.

Aw Jack.

His fear has always been reflective of Sam, Dean and Cas, because even though he’s his own brand of innocent, he is meant to be a combination of the character traits of TFW, allowing him that expositional prowess, because his character evolution sheds light on the needed evolution of TFW.

*mh mh good*

Jack’s greatest fear is to bring suffering, but in this fear is the fear of failure, yes, that old fear, that’s so overwhelming in all of TFW. Jack wants to do good, and he tries so hard that we’ve seen how it’s sometimes difficult for him to separate good choices from bad ones.

In 12x19 he rejected Dagon and he rejected his father, choosing Cas as his protector and doing everything in his baby Nephi powers to protect his mother. Kelly’s motherly love shaped Jack into the caring and innocent being that he came into the world as, where that moment of his father reaching out to him, at the beginning of S13, frightened him, and where he continuously rejected Lucifer’s influence. 

What 14x14 so gorgeously sets up for us is underlining what Jack’s weakness at this point in his individual arc is: his refusal to acknowledge how he doesn’t know who he is yet. 

I’m not a child. I’m the son of Lucifer. I’m a hunter. I’m a Winchester.

The identity confusion in this statement is pretty amazing, to my mind, because where he’s spent so much time rejecting his father and the heritage of Lucifer, he’s now suddenly embracing it in dialogue and, even more than that, he’s using it as his first identity marker. Clearly he’s seeing himself moving into adulthood, his identity statement after all beginning with him telling us how he considers his childhood over.

And let’s note that his last identity marker is that he’s a Winchester.

Yeah, as 14x15 is already telling us, this probably doesn’t bode well, but I also believe it doesn’t bode well for now. 

The fact that he claims the Winchester name for his is also a very good thing for later, obviously, and one that will most likely be crucial when it comes to the resolution of what is most likely going to be his dark arc. It may last a few episodes or it may build to the end of the season, we shall see, but it seems fairly evident that it’s rapidly approaching.

In a sense, him taking Michael’s grace into himself is him moving from child to teenager, in another sense Jack declaring that he’s not a child is ironic, seeing how he truly needs guidance, now more than ever before.

I mean, he’s literally swallowed down the essence of the thing that’s tripped Dean up his whole life and, by proxy, Sam and ultimately Cas as well: toxic masculinity. 

This is no way to grow up, Jack.

And, of course -->

Jack losing his soul - even though it’s not all of it yet - is a callback to Sam being soulless in S6, where Sam had to confront the side to him that is able to distance itself and look at a situation through a wholly mercenary perspective, fuelling his sense of dependency as he suddenly had to question his own judgement, something that hampers him as a leader as well, hollowing out his sense of self-worth, making it wholly easier to follow than to lead

the possible setting up for Jack trying to help and managing to do the opposite, his growing powers possible sending him off the beaten track, might prove a strong callback to Cas for most of his arc, where his first mistake of becoming Godstiel paved the way for choices that led hollowed out Cas sense of self-worth, leading him into depression

the possible setting up for Jack’s shadow-self to rule him because of Jack swallowing down toxic masculinity is a callback to the MoC arc for Dean, where his lack of self-worth led him to become a demon, the scenario being his shadow-self manifesting his worst nightmare as Dean lost himself in careless, selfish, mindless coping behaviours, dominated by violence

As ever, we shall see how the writers choose to go, but I’m damned stoked.

This whole season has been saturated with the MoC arc of S10 and the MoC arc was all about pushing Dean to change and to evolve out of old, worn patterns. It was all about forcing a new perspective of himself on him, and a new understanding of what he wants for himself. (a long and happy life with the man he loves) And here we now are, with all of these characters facing their suppression/repression as well as the narrative consequences for none of them having properly grown up and grown into their true identities. 

The fact that they can still deceive themselves like this is shown to not be okay, as they’re all hit with equal punishment, all of which now rather neatly knots itself into the fate of Jack.

My hope?

That Jack’s choice to burn off his soul to protect the people he loves and swallowing Michael’s grace and beginning to feel different and possibly starting to go off the rails is the awaited push necessary for Sam, Dean and Cas to reach the point in their progression that it’s necessary they reach if they’re going to be able to get through to Jack, and ultimately guide him or, at the very least, be the role models he truly needs.

Because right now, not a single one of them is anywhere near that point. Well, possibly Sam, as per 14x15, if he’s the first one of them to stop running.

Let’s remember that Jack was the one to chop off Noah’s head as well as put an end to Michael’s new world order: symbolically pretty heavy duty on the probable importance to the actual internal balance being reached for our three main characters, right?

Jack cut the head off two symbolical snakes in one episode.

Both of which were tied to the unhealthy habits of Sam, Dean and Cas.

It’s beautifully setup, whatever happens, and I can’t wait to see what we get!

[sesamesaysme]

BOOKS COMPLETED IN JUNE 2019

(listed by order of completion)

Bookworm that I am, just thought I’d share.

I normally am in the middle of 2-3 books at any time because one in text, one in audiobook, and lately one in Chinese too because I’m trying to improve on that

SEA OF POPPIES by Amitav Ghosh / Feb.15, 2019 - June 10, 2019 / Set prior to the First Opium War a cast of characters all end up together on a ship from Calcutta to Mauritius.  / Ok, this took me waaaay too long to finish. It wasn’t that it wasn’t good. It was because I wasn’t really paying attention in the beginning which caused me to not have any of the characters’ identities straight in my head which made me have no momentum reading it because I didn’t know what was going on. But once I finally did figure out who everyone was it was good. One scenario that stands out in my mind is when one guy takes care of his shitty jail cellmate (and by shitty I mean literally covered in feces). But, you see, I still can’t remember names. 

THE BEST COOK IN THE WORLD by Rick Bragg / May 30, 2019 - June 10, 2019 / (audiobook version) / Part memoir part cookbook of author’s mother’s recipes from the American south / I was in China for the last 2.5 months. I think I was missing food from back in the U.S. so picture me passing time on long Shanghai bus rides with descriptions of things like buttery biscuits and fried chicken being read to me 😂. Some parts felt like too much of the same thing over and over, but it was a good book to semi tune into while looking out of bus windows.

THE ALICE NETWORK by Kate Quinn / June 10, 2019  - June 12, 2019 / (audiobook version) / A young woman searching for her cousin finds out about the past of a woman who was recruited as a spy in France during WWI / To be honest I suspected going into this exactly what it was going to be but I still listened to it hoping it was gonna surprise me in someway. But nope. It’s another one of those historical fictions with a book cover that shows an image of someone from behind. And it’s that formula in which the author uses a present-day person to gradually reveal pieces of the past. Usually these things involve some sad story of women getting separated or an unfortunate romance or somebody’s child or friend or sister dying tragically but ultimately the present-day person learns a lot from it blah blah. And the past is supposed to be this big mystery but actually it’s pretty predictable for the reader. Another one that I remember being basically the same formula was Before We Were Yours. 

BLACK BEAUTY (黑骏马）by Anna Sewell / April 28, 2019 - June 14, 2019 / Written from the perspective of a horse, you follow it as a young colt in a comfortable home through various other homes it lives in throughout the course of its life, sometimes getting kind treatment, sometimes incredibly inhumane. / I read this one in mandarin Chinese while following along in English for practicing my Chinese reading skills. I would guess my Chinese reading skills are at the level of a 9-10 year old. I read it at the pace of 30 minutes a day--a daily Chinese lesson. So now I know an abnormally large amount of vocabulary in Chinese pertaining to horses 🤣. All jokes aside, I felt so bad for the horses in this book though! omg!!! sob sob

REVOLUTION FOR DUMMIES: LAUGHING THROUGH THE ARAB SPRING by Bassem Youssef / June 13, 2019 - June 14, 2019 / (audiobook version) / The “Jon Stewart of the Arab World” takes you through his experience of creating political comedy that dared to make fun of and critique the Egyptian government. His program was similar to the Daily Show but with a whole lot more life-risking.  / This was very interesting. I don’t know that I ever laughed out loud even though it does have humor. I was more fascinated with just finding out his story. 

EVERY DAY A FRIDAY: HOW TO BE HAPPIER 7 DAYS A WEEK by Joel Osteen / June 16, 2019 - June 18, 2019 /  A pastor gives his advice on how to appreciate life. / Yeah, sometimes I just want to read some inspirational stuff. I’m not really a religious person but I would say the pastor’s writing is suitable for anybody. To sum it up, he basically tells you to appreciate what you have. 

THREE DARK CROWNS by Kendare Blake / June 11, 2019 - June 19, 2019 / Triplet girls, each with their own powers, have been kept apart for years and now are pitted against each other trying to kill one another because only one can be queen.  / Fun, dark YA read

THE WAR ON NORMAL PEOPLE by Andrew Yang / June 19, 2019 - June 20, 2019 / (audiobook version) / This is by the Andrew Yang who is one of the huge number of Democratic candidates. / Seriously, more people need to pay attention to the things this guy is saying. The stats he gives about how many jobs are going to be automated in the next few years...just wow. Totally eye-opening.

ONE DARK THRONE by Kendare Blake / June 20, 2019  - June 21, 2019 / (audiobook version) / 2nd book in the Three Dark Crowns trilogy / It’s not very long so I listened to the entire thing while I was doing the Felix from Stray Kids drawing.

THE WORLD AS IT IS: INSIDE THE OBAMA WHITE HOUSE by Ben Rhodes / June 21, 2019 - June 26, 2019 / Author was a speechwriter, policymaker, and friend during Obama’s presidency. / Will make you long for the Obama era the entire time you are reading this.

[starlvsts]

INTRODUCTION :  ┅ ┅  yo , i remember the first iteration of this and it was so much fun so i’m super glad it’s come back and i obviously had to rejoin ?!  anyway ,  you can call me stella !  i’m twenty - four and go by feminine pronouns !  i never know what to say in introductions , so let me just get to my slytherin boy , seungjoon ! below the cut is some information about him as well as some baseline connections and plot ideas !  smash  the cute little heard if you’d like to plot , and i’ll come slither into your dms ! COMING SOON :  profile  ;  statistics  ;  wanted connections ☆ﾟ*・ﾟHEY! did JUNG HOSEOK just fall off HIS broomstick?! oh wait, never mind. it’s just BANG SEUNGJOON… to think i nearly broke a sweat over an TWENTY-ONE year old NINTH* year PUREBLOOD SLYTHERIN. i hear the MALE is quite PROTECTIVE and EMPATHETIC, but also CYNICAL and TRUCULENT. well, i hope their broom doesn’t throw them off the second time.

SEUNGJOON  ┅ ┅

Born in London to two notorious purebloods on Christmas Day, he’s the youngest son of two children. His parents are pureblood supremacists through and through and have very low views on muggles and muggle-born witches and wizards. Naturally, they tried to infect their sons with the same backward views.

They were successful in polluting their oldest sons mind, he’s so far gone into the Dark Arts and secret anti-muggle circles that there is probably no redeeming him.

Seungjoon, on the other hand, wasn’t as responsive. He had several close friends that were muggle-born witches and wizards, and so their hatred wasn’t as easily swallowed for him. His friends were nice people and didn’t seem different from himself, he told his parents such. It’s the first time he was slapped in the face by his mother.

As a child, he was sweeter. Soft smiles, carefree laughter and running outside in the grass until the sun was setting. He loved and loved and loved. His dulcet tones were crushed under the heels of his parents, smashed into smithereens, picked up and shaped into a mold of their liking; something with edges and anger.

The softness was beaten out of him with firm smacks across the face and the sound of a ruler hitting the backs of his hands; he was pulled away from all his friends and put into circles of children who were being brought up wrong; brought up the way his brother was, the way his parents were trying to bring him up.

There are those who claim his views reflect those of his parents, but to be completely honest they don’t. His bitterness is spread equally and he wouldn’t call it hatred, just a constant state of annoyance because putting up walls and coming off as dangerous is easier than trying to pick up the shards of his life, easier than shrugging off his parents critique. It’s much simpler to put up a facade and get by. So that’s what he does.

This boy was a hatstall and he nearly cried whilst the sorting hat debated whether or not to put him Slytherin or Ravenclaw. It took the Sorting Hat nearly seven minutes to sort him, and in the end he was sorted into Slytherin. More than likely because he knew his parents would loathe him if he was sorted into anything other. The Sorting Hat thought he’d be a good fit for either seeing as Seungjoon is very intelligent as well as cunning.

Reputation wise, Seungjoon is known as trouble. Someone you’d be better off avoiding; he's danger, a mistake, try to get past his shell at your own risk because he's fire and you’re going to get burnt. He leaves a trail of broken hearts in his wake despite the fact it’s clear he doesn’t do relationships, unfortunately there’s always someone out there that thinks they can change him.

Quidditch is his one true love. He hates losing, gets angry at his teammates when they do lose, curses up a storm and bites down on his bottom lip so hard he’s tasting iron. Some say he never looks happier or more alive than when he’s on a broom and they’re probably right; you can't fake being a good player, so it’s the only time he feels real.

One of those students who looks like he doesn’t care about class at all, might show up late, might not even study — yet has very high grades. Okay, so maybe he’s getting tutored by a Ravenclaw, but still — he’s clearly not stupid and if he applied himself more he wouldn’t need help studying. Some classes, however, he just really hates so he can’t be bothered to pay attention.

Has a tuxedo cat named Pocus but everyone calls him Socks. Pocus knows damn well what his name is, but when he’s in one of those moods he’ll only go to Seungjoon if he calls him “ Socks. ” Is super affectionate to everyone else and rarely with Seungjoon. Makes him pretty sad, catch him trying to entice his cat over for half an hour and then storming away out of frustration when friend #3 comes over, calls Pocus and he goes running to them.

Defense Against the Dark Arts, Care for Magical Creatures and Charms are his best classes. Astronomy, Divination and Herbology are his worst. Part of the Dueling Club and loves it almost as much as Quidditch. Challenge him if you dare.

PLOTS  ┅ marauders  2.0 ? the ride or die quartet who have code names and pull stupid pranks that vary in tameness. can be from any house  ~ !  3/3  RHYS , CAIN , ELIAS ┅  gryffindor rivals who hate each others guts , maybe they are extremely competitive on the quidditch field. ┅  despite his general ... meanness, those students from different houses who have wormed their way in? ┅  double trouble, they’re both chaotic on their own ; throw them together and it’s an even bigger mess. ┅  friends with benifits, that one friend who starts liking seungjoon and complicates things. ┅  childhood friend, maybe a muggle friend who he ended ties with after his parents forced him to? ┅  ex best friends who shook the school when they come back one year absolutely hating each other? YUNA ┅  best friends, like seungjoon would die for this person also probably relies on them too much because he has no one else he’s comfortable sharing 100% with.  YUKO ┅  an arranged marriage between to purebloods? could get along or absolutely hate each other’s guts. ┅  those who have crushes on him or those he has crushes on?   ┅  that ravenclaw who tutors him   ┅  enemies of varying degree, maybe it’s just sass and banter or maybe these two have thrown hands occasionally.  ┅  those some types he is compelled to want to protect because despite his outward appearance he must protect.  ┅  that person he obviously has a thing for but their oblivious, or vice versa.   ┅  for some reason, these two are in a fake relationship. ┅  members of the slytherin quidditch team he gets along with or who hate how serious he takes the sport? ┅  some people who have convinced him to tutor them?   or we could just brainstorm but if anything catches your interest let me know !

[winryofresembool]

Love Can Melt the Ice, ch. 19

Summary: Figure skating time! Part 2.

A/N: I’m not gonna say much this time. I just... really hope you guys will enjoy this one. It’s important. Thank you ♥

Previous chapters:  1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 5.5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15 pt 1, pt 2, 16, 17, 18

Next chapter: x

Companion pieces (note: these are all post Olympics happenings so reading the main fic first is recommended): 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Words:4543 (yup. A monster)

Genre: hmmm.

Warnings: pls have your tooth brushes nearby.

Winry closed her eyes for a moment and peeked through the glass door again. Was she really seeing correctly? Ed? Talking with Mei Chang? Alone, without Al? What was he doing with her? There was no mistaking him, though; she could clearly see his long golden mane, the crutches in his hands and the cast in his left leg.

She knew they hadn’t seen her yet and tried to figure out how to get out of the arena without being noticed. If she just marched out there and asked what was going on, she would probably get to hear a bunch of lies, making the situation even worse. Still, she couldn’t stand behind the door either; people were coming in and out, and she’d get caught staring. She decided to use another exit on the other side of the arena, casting one last look towards the door before biting her lip and turning away.

Had Winry stayed 10 seconds longer, she would have seen Al joining Ed and Mei, giving Mei something as he arrived. Not long after, the group separated, Ed leaving towards the hotel, Al and Mei towards a restaurant. But she didn’t see any of that, so her mind was racing 120 km/hour as she took the longer route to another exit.

One, a small part of her was yelling extremely loud curses in her head, but the rational part of her tried to convince her that what she had just seen meant nothing. Maybe Ed had just been waiting to see her and accidentally bumped into Mei. Winry knew Mei well enough to know she was very familiar with hockey, so maybe she had recognized Ed and wanted to introduce herself. Besides, after the sweet, private moments in her room, would Ed really just ignore all that? That didn’t seem like something he would do.

Winry realized that if she was going to make this, what could be a beginning of a meaningful relationship, work, she had to trust him. And in the end, nothing about the meeting she had witnessed had suggested anything more than a friendly encounter. But still, where had Al been? And why had she smiled so widely at him? And why did all of this have to happen now that she was supposed to focus on her competition and they were going to leave to their home country in only a few days?

When Winry got back into her hotel room, she decided to do what best calmed down her mind; drawing blueprints for her next mechanical project. When she began drawing, she had no idea what she wanted to make, but soon the sketch started to become clearer; it resembled an arm. At first she thought she was unconsciously drawing the exact copy of Ed’s automail arm, but at closer inspection she realized it looked different. It looked more like the person whom she was imagining using it; a flame symbol decorated the top plate, reminding her of his fierce nature. Even though the material she wanted to use for this automail was lighter than the one he was now using, the layers it had made it stronger. She had to admit, she quite liked how it ended up looking.

Just when she was putting away her pencils and erasers, her phone started ringing.

“Granny! Hi! How are you doing?” Winry had been thinking about her grandmother quite a lot for the past few days, so hearing her familiar voice made her feel better.

“I’m doing just fine, dear. But I must say, I am slightly surprised you haven’t called me since the team event. I hope everything’s fine there, though, because it’s not like you to ignore your grandmother.”

“E-everything’s alright! I hope you saw my performance today. Only 0,10 points from the lead!”

“I saw it! You looked wonderful out there. But you don’t sound very convincing, I hope it really is alright.”

“It’s… a long story. Granny, I… like someone.”

“Really? Now that’s a surprise. I thought you are so into your sport you don’t have time for anything else.”

“Yeah… I kinda thought so too. So, do you remember Edward Elric from Resembool? Our ex neighbor?”

“Of course I do! You guys were always at it, fighting with each other all the time, but if someone dared to say a bad word about you, he was always there to defend you.” Pinako smiled at her memory. “Have you seen him there? Doesn’t he play hockey these days?”

“Yes, I have, and he does… You see… He’s kinda the person I like. And I think he likes me too.”

“Oh! Well, if he’s anything like his parents, I’m sure he’s a decent person.”

“He is… Only, today I saw him talking with my rival and… I don’t know what to think about it. I mean, it probably was nothing, but… I got jealous.”

“If he is in his right mind, he doesn’t even look at anyone else when he could have my granddaughter. Don’t worry, Winry. If that bothers you, why don’t you just ask him?”

“I already had one opportunity, but I chickened… And I can’t ask him now because I said we should keep some distance between us until my competition is over.”

“You have put yourself in quite a situation. But my advice is that just talk with him. That way you’ll know what exactly happened.”

“Right. Thanks, granny.”

“No problem.”

After saying her worries aloud, Winry realized how silly they must have sounded. After all, it wasn’t like Ed wasn’t allowed to talk with other girls. That’s why she decided to change the topic: “Hey, listen! I just drew some blueprints for an automail and I’d like you to take a look at it. I’ll send you a photo and you can then tell me your opinion on it!”

The grandmother and granddaughter spent the rest of the evening discussing Winry’s automail, Pinako giving Winry some advice and improvement suggestions and Winry doing the necessary changes. By the end of the evening, she was feeling like herself again, and was already imagining how Ed would react when she’d show him the blueprints.

 …

 “Next up, performing her free program, Winry Rockbell!”

Winry inhaled and exhaled deeply and shook her limbs to warm the muscles up before finally stepping on the ice. She had thought the previous performances would have calmed her nerves a bit, but as she was waiting for the music to start playing, she realized that this was every bit as hard as it had been earlier. Maybe even harder in a certain sense. The reason for that was sitting in the stands, or at least she assumed he did. For some reason, knowing that he was watching, made this performance more personal.

When Garfiel, who usually made Winry’s choreographies, had suggested her free program would have a romantic theme, Winry hadn’t liked the idea. Romantic love had always been a foreign area to her, and she had never even officially dated anyone even though the reason for that wasn’t the lack of interested people. It was the lack of interesting people. The few times she had been on dates, she had noticed the other person was on a totally different wave length from her, not caring about the same things she did, or asking her out simply because they had recognized her from TV. Sometimes she had wondered if there was something wrong with her, or if she was simply an a-sexual, but she hadn’t gotten answers to her questions until she arrived in the Olympic venue.

Was it love she was feeling towards Ed? Winry had always been one to think that real love didn’t strike anyone that fast, but when she had told Ed she was falling for him, she had meant it. She might not be quite there yet, but she was on her way. The thought of getting to spend more time with him and learn to know him even better excited her. On the other hand, she had felt jealous when she saw Ed with Mei, which was an emotion only familiar to her from her childhood when she had seen her classmates getting hugs and kisses from their parents, and she had only had her grandmother. She knew Ed could be a tough person to handle on his worst days, but somehow, she believed the good days would win them 100-0. If he gave her a chance…

Because of all this, she felt she understood the character she was acting in her performance a lot better now. Earlier, she had often gotten critique for performing the elements cleanly but lacking in the emotion department. The audience would see a robot doing what she was supposed to do, not having any emotional connection with the performance. Now, she wished that she could use her recent experiences to build a believable story that did move something in the audience’s hearts.

She quickly tested that her hair and the bright red dress with a lot of glitter on it (Garfiel’s idea) were where they were supposed to be and finally heard the first sounds of the romantic song starting to play, meaning it was go-time.

The first element in her free program was a triple Lutz – triple toe loop combination. She managed to land it cleanly, but was worried her body language was screaming she didn’t know what to do… If only she’d get the three first jump elements out of the way, then she could breathe a bit. The step sequences and spins had always been more of her thing.

Double Axel. Done! And she felt she would have had enough speed to keep on rotating but decided to not risk it this time. There would be a time and place for a surprise factor later on…

Then came the final jumps of the first half of her performance, a triple Salchow – triple toe loop combination. Unfortunately, Winry had gotten a bit too confident after the double Axel, and she slipped a bit between the jumps, having to cut the rotation short and making it only double toe loop. Not a big loss, considering she still hadn’t fallen or otherwise failed, but it still bummed her for a moment.

She didn’t have time to get stuck on that one slight slip, though, because she already needed to start focusing on the first spin. It was successful, and finally she managed to make herself smile a bit as she moved onto the step sequence. Even though step sequences had always been her favorite part of her programs, she found this particular one challenging because she was supposed to express the happiness of having met someone special. Now she understood that emotion better, though, and the audience oohed and aahed with excitement as they watched her move swiftly, the smile coming from her heart instead of being forced.

…

“How the hell did she do that?” Ed asked as Al and he were watching Winry performing a triple flip – double toe loop – double loop combination. To Ed even one jump was amazing, to perform 3 of them in a row was beyond his understanding.

“It’s called routine, brother, she has practiced that for years,” Al stated. It was really amusing to watch how into Ed could get into this sport he knew nothing about, all because of that young woman who was currently gliding on the ice. If he was honest, Ed was the last person he would have expected to see in such a situation, but it was a nice change, and he could see it was doing good to his brother.

Ed yelled proudly when he saw Winry perform another jump, triple Lutz this time, then turned to look at Al briefly:

“Do you think she has a chance of winning this?”

“It is going well, I don’t see why not. But the competition is tough.”

“Right.”

“Hold on a sec.” Al held his breath for a moment when Winry was in the air again. “That isn’t… yup, it is! Triple Axel!”

Ed didn’t really know what a triple Axel was, or how it differed from the other jumps (he made a mental note to learn more about it later), but it must have been something awesome because the entire audience around him was roaring with excitement.

“W-what?” he asked.

“Brother, you really should do some studying on figure skating… Only a few female skaters have managed to land it successfully in a competition. She did it in the team event here, but I believe that’s when she got hurt… But based on her reactions there were no issues this time! Now she REALLY has a chance of winning!”

Ed focused his attention on Winry’s facial expressions and noticed that she really did seem like a huge weight had fallen from her shoulders as she was performing a choreographic sequence. In fact, her expression looked a lot like the one he had only seen on her face when they had been alone in her room. But why would she…

“Uh, Al? What do you think this performance is about?” he asked suddenly.

“Isn’t it obvious? It’s a love story, she meets someone and shows her love for that person.”

“Really?”

“Definitely.”

Ed felt a blush spreading on his face as he took Al’s words in. Suddenly focusing on the performance felt a bit harder. He did see her jump one last time (Al did say the jump’s name but he missed it) and do the spin combination that finished the routine, but his mind was elsewhere. He would have to tell her about his decision soon.

…

“Congratulations, dear, that was a fantastic performance! I am so proud of you! And that triple Axel? Only you would have had guts to do that again after what happened the last time! But the risk was worth it!”

“Thank you, Garfiel!” Winry said as she hugged her coach. “I felt… I needed to prove myself I could do it even though I would have probably done just fine even with a double Axel… “

“To me it looked like you also did a lot better job portraying the emotions of your character… Is there any specific reason for that?”

“Uhh… nothing you need to know right now… I’ll tell you some other time,” Winry answered awkwardly.

Winry barely had time to take a breath after pulling away from Garfiel when two new sets of arms surrounded her.

“If that isn’t a gold winning performance, I don’t know what is!” Paninya squeeled and Rosé agreed with her.

“Oh, come on, guys, you are not here to celebrate me, you are my rivals!” Winry scolded them. “Now, if you don’t go back to your preparations, I’m gonna kick your asses. And Garfiel, we need to go, they are gonna announce the points any minute now.”

They sat down on their seats, and sure enough, only a few moments later the announcer yelled:

“And Winry Rockbell’s points are… 150,15! Together with the short program, that makes 232,10 points! What an astounding performance! That is her personal best!”

“Wow…” was all Winry could say.

“Winry, my dear… I think a new champion has risen.” Garfiel said next to her.

…

Paninya and Rosé’s turn was soon after, and both succeeded well with their performances. Paninya got her personal best score and Rosé got her seasonal best as well. The two of them were already ready to celebrate Winry’s victory when it was Mei Chang’s turn, and they held their breaths (probably more nervous than Winry herself) as she performed. The audience reacted loudly to her elements and it was clear everything was going according to Mei’s plan.

A few minutes later, her points were announced: 148,5. Together with the short program, that wasn’t enough to top Winry. She couldn’t help but smile a bit, remembering what she had seen the day before. This also Winry really had a chance of winning the entire competition.

The last skater of the night, and Winry’s biggest challenger, was Lan Fan from Xing. She had gotten just slightly better points than Winry in the short program, but she was known to shine in her free programs, so despite Winry’s amazing points, nothing had been decided yet.

As expected, she performed her elements flawlessly, but her jumps were slightly easier than Winry’s, and at least in Garfiel’s opinion she seemed to lack the charm Winry had had on the ice. Winry watched the performance in the dressing room with the other girls, but when she met with Garfiel afterwards, she found him biting his fingernails nervously.

Winry wasn’t sure what she was feeling at that moment. The biggest part of her was relieved it was over; no matter what would happen, she already knew she had done her best and would go home with a medal. However, there was a reason why she was a professional athlete; she did have the competitive side in her, and that side tried to argue with the rational side that said she could be proud of herself, either way. A silver would be a disappointment after such a performance.

Winry’s heart was beating fast when Garfiel took her hand as the announcer started to speak.

“Lan Fan’s points are: 149,10! That means she wins the silver medal, winning her country woman Mei Chang by a point. Our Olympic gold medal winner is… Winry Rockbell from Amestris!!!”

…

“Ed, you gotta go!” Al tried to get him to leave the arena before the rest of the audience would.

“What, I want to congratulate her! Dammit, Al! This is the biggest moment of her career so far and you are telling me to leave?!”

“I mean, she’s gonna have a party, and you can’t go there looking like that! Brother, please!”

“Fine. But if you see her, you’ll tell her that I’ll see her soon, right?”

“Of course! Just go now.”

…

 She really was the Olympic champion. When the information sunk in, it seemed like her brain just turned off and she could remember only bits and pieces of what happened afterwards.

There were a lot of hugs. Garfiel, waiting for the points next to her, was obviously the first one to hug her. Rosé, Paninya and Gracia were all waiting for her by the rinkside, giving her quick, tight hugs before she had to go back to the ice to accept her reward. When she joined the other medalists on the ice, they hugged her too, and especially Mei seemed really enthusiastic and happy for her, making Winry a bit confused. Was there something going on she didn’t know about? In that moment, she only wished she could find the person she wanted to hug the most, but scanning the audience with her eyes, she couldn’t find him. One would have thought it would be easy to spot the two golden haired men in the audience, and she knew for fact they had promised to be there, but for some reason she couldn’t find them.

She accepted the flowers and the plush she was given (the actual medal would be given later that day in a special ceremony outside the arena) and after skating a few rounds and thanking the audience, she tried to get into the dressing room to change into something more comfortable. That turned out to be difficult though, with all the passing people wanting to congratulate her and get her first comments, and it took her at least 15 minutes to finally get into her destination.

“You haven’t possibly seen Ed and his brother anywhere?” Winry asked her figure skating team that was already starting the party in the dressing room, popping a bottle of champagne that someone had hidden into the locker.

“No, not a glimpse,” Paninya and Rose answered in unison. Winry started getting anxious. This was such a huge moment for her, and she really wanted all her favorite people to be around.

It took a while before she could leave anywhere because glasses needed to be emptied, speeches given and songs sung. Paninya even threatened to throw Winry into the cold shower like was the habit in the hockey world, but fortunately for Winry, she managed to talk her out of it. Eventually, she managed to sneak out with the excuse that she needed to go back into her hotel room because she had left her party dress there.

Before she would do that, though, she would find out where the hell Edward was. He hadn’t even answered her calls while the other girls had taken Garfiel into the cold shower instead of her. Briefly, she wondered if that meeting with Mei had something to do with this, but quickly pushed that thought aside. Now was not the time for that.

When she got into the hotel hallway that Amestris’ athletes shared, she debated for a long while if she should go and change like she was supposed to, or if she should just march into Ed’s room and let him hear it if he happened to be there. She chose the latter.

“Edward Elric! If you are there, get your ass out right now!” she nearly yelled as she banged his door. She wasn’t actually expecting anyone to be there, so when she heard the sound of the crutches from inside the room, her eyes widened in embarrassment.

“Hi?” Ed opened the door, revealing the black suit and a red tie he was wearing. Winry looked at his outfit with confusion.

“Are you going somewhere?”

She guessed it was too much to ask him to spend this important night with her.

“Aren’t you?” Ed took in the tiny red figure skating dress she was still wearing. Why did she have to look so good in it, he growled in his mind. “I’m not sure that dress is the most appropriate one for a formal party.”

“What are you talking about?” Winry felt she understood less and less about what was going on.

“That you and I are gonna go to your party, what else would I be talking about?”

“I thought… I thought…” Winry couldn’t form a full sentence. He had been thinking about her after all.

“What?” Ed asked, equally confused.

“That you had forgotten. Or didn’t want to go. Or had other plans…”

“And why would you think that?” Ed frowned. He didn’t understand why Winry was acting so weirdly all of a sudden.

“Because I didn’t see you at the arena! And you didn’t answer to my call! And I saw you hanging out with Mei Chang the other day!” she blurted without thinking.

“Again: what? Winry, there’s a good explanation to all of those things. I left the arena early because when it became clear you would win, Al forced me to come back here to clean up because apparently I couldn’t look like an emo at your party. I wouldn’t have wanted to leave. He also promised to let you know I would be waiting here. Which clearly he didn’t. And I didn’t hear your phone call because I was in the shower. And I definitely wasn’t with Mei because I wanted to, but because Al told me to wait with her while he was getting her some flowers or chocolate or who knows what unnecessary… They were gonna go out for a dinner, you see.”

“So… you’re saying all of that was just an unfortunate misunderstanding?”

“Yes, you silly.”

“Great. Of course I would ruin my own party by overthinking things.” Winry sat down on Ed’s bed and covered her face with her hand with embarrassment.

“Hey, don’t be mad at yourself. You couldn’t have known.” Ed sat down next to Winry, setting his crutches down, and took her chin between his thumb and index finger and lifted it, so she was staring right in his eyes.

“But I…” She couldn’t finish her sentence because she noticed the expression on Ed’s face, and it nearly made her knees go weak. She had seen that fierce, determined look a couple of times before, all of them right before they had almost…

Only this time there wasn’t “almost”. Ed hesitated only one moment, deciding this was a now or never situation, and with his free hand he pulled her closer. He moved the hand that had been holding her chin behind her neck, while he was wondering how she would react to what he was about to do. Winry didn’t have time to close her eyes before he pressed his lips against hers, a bit sloppily but firmly, soon finding the right angle to get best access to her lips. Winry couldn’t help but smile into the kiss when her brain finally registered what was happening. He really was kissing her.

All too fast, he pulled away, his heart pounding faster than in a hockey game and his cheeks adorably red. Winry thought she couldn’t have looked much calmer herself. She had imagined this situation so many times in her head, but now that it finally happened, she couldn’t nearly believe it. From that little preview she knew she wanted that to happen again. And last a lot longer.

Finally, her brain recovered enough to be able to form full sentences:

“Hold on. Ed, would you care to explain what this means? Didn’t you say the other day you had promised…”

“Shhh, just listen. I can’t… I can’t promise it’s always gonna be an easy road, but… I want to try.” Winry looked at him expectantly, so he continued: “You have made me see I don’t have to do this alone, and I really owe you a lot for that. You have made me feel happy even though normally I wouldn’t even be able to get out of my bed in this situation.” Winry knew he was referring to his broken leg and the tournament that had ended too early for him. “So that’s really amazing. You just seem to have that weird power. You know, you deserve to be happy, and I… I want to be someone who makes you happy. Equivalent exchange, right?”

“Ed!” she squealed and hugged him so forcefully he almost fell from the bed.

“So, what do you say? Do you want to give me a shot?” he asked nervously.

“Yes, you idiot!”

This time it was her turn to initiate the kiss. It was much longer than the first one, and Ed even allowed his hand to wander on the backside of Winry’s thin dress, feeling the smooth material and causing chills in Winry’s core.

“By the way… Congratulations,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers.

“For what?” Winry had nearly forgotten what had happened only a little while ago.

“For winning the Olympic gold, dummy. My girlfriend is world’s best figure skater!” Ed exclaimed proudly.

“Oh… thank you.” Winry blushed and pecked his lips once more.

“So… Will you get your dress changed?” Ed asked with much more confidence when they pulled apart.

“Yes… But if you think I’ll let you watch just because you’re my boyfriend now… well, I dare you to try.”

“You’re feisty. I like that.” Ed snorted and Winry threw a pillow at him.

Ed stayed nicely in his room while Winry went to change, but the whole time both of them had huge smiles on their faces. Somehow, Winry had a feeling she had just won something far more valuable than an Olympic gold.