#and toss myself into oncoming traffic

[seaofgoldensand]

i love how i went through 3 starring stages 1-3 but the 4th stage i was just like a second off defeating the fucking wanderer,,, and i was like ... wait- i never put protocores on his private trip and floral promise cards MY FUCKING BAD BUT ALSO?

nah bc wtf ARE THESEEEEEEEE STATS......... WHY CAN'T I HAVE THIS LUCK IN GENSHIN OR STAR RAIL???

ain't no fucking way this is gonna happen again

[oars]

everyone ever is so damn useless stop wasting my time giving me the run around and answer my simple question god im not your strongest soldier i will give up right here right now over a piece of paper

[lust4lyf3]

Strangers (pt. 1)

Pairing: Lee (Bones and All) x fem reader

Prompt: On y/n’s long and winding journey to nowhere, she runs into someone mysterious. He reminds her of her past, something she’s unsure she should pursue, but is unable to fight the urge.

Warnings: mentions of cannibalism, death, blood, smoking

Word count: 6k

watched bones & all and couldn’t help myself !!!

i’m also an ethel cain fanatic so this is heavily inspired by her and her songs, specifically thoroughfare. highly recommend listening.

anyway timothee was so fine in b&a i was eating it up, no pun intended !

* * *

Whoosh.

It's a humid, late afternoon. The sound of cars passing, insects buzzing, and my shoes consistently hitting the ground, one after the other, fill the air. The passing scenery is lush, and littered with deteriorating stores belittled to roadside stops that invade the town.

Indiana isn't where I live. And it won't be where I'm staying, either. I'm just the same as all the others, passing through and then I'm on my way. Though, I may be slightly different.

I keep on trudging, trying to find any place I can stop and get a drink, my sweat beaded around my forehead. I clutch onto the strap of my bag around me, my very few belongings steadily hitting against my leg as I walk.

I look down at my beaten to near death shoes. I couldn't begin to count the places they've taken me even if I tried. I focus again on what's in front of me, trying not to accidentally sway into oncoming traffic getting lost in my thoughts.

I feel tired, but I'm used to it. This is what my life is, now. Going from one place to the other, on my own. I somehow scraped up enough money to take the train, but I could only make it so far. And now I'm right back where I started. On my feet, and in a place I don't know.

It doesn't exactly phase me. I've never really had a place in my life that I called home. So, this is just what I do now. Anywhere but the place I was forced to call home.

Another few whooshes of passing cars, mostly trucks. A few looks from their drivers as well. The state of me isn't horrible, but definitely not the most presentable. But hell, why would I care? They might think I'm lost or something, walking around alone with torn up clothes and an old bag, I get that. But what they don't know is that I'm far from lost.

Finally, I see corner store, a few paces up the road. A type of place that I find a lot of solace in. I keep on, approaching the small, old building with its makeshift gravel parking lot infested with weeds and various litter.

I walk up, but stop before the entrance at the edge of the street. A break is needed to be had. I sit down abruptly, my ass on the road and my shoes in the dirt. I sigh a breathe of relief and take in the feeling of not relying on my feet before fishing into my bag. I poke around, and find my cigarettes, and eventually my lighter.

I pull them out and flick the box open. One left. Good thing I'm at the store. I put the box up to my lips and close them around the singular cigarette, pulling the box away and tossing it back in the bag. I lift the lighter and easily catch a light, no breeze in the way. Much to my discontent, though. I need a good breeze right now.

I take a drag as the light stays at the end, then flick the lighter closed and take it out of my mouth, exhaling. I close my eyes and lean back on one hand. A great feeling, this is. These are the moments I live for. The small ones, where I feel like if I just willed it, I might feel a little bit of heaven.

I open my eyes again, and take in my surroundings. I can smell the grass and car exhaust that add to the ambiance of the outdated building. A few figures pass by in the windows of the lit store. I peer far enough back to see that they have freezers at the end of the aisles. Jackpot. The thought of an ice cold Coke could keep me alive right now.

I take a few more drags of the cigarette and then leave it still in my mouth. I pull my bag onto my lap and rummage around some more, looking for my leftover cash. I find some loose bills and coins, and gather them all up in one hand. I shuffle through them quickly, counting. Not as much as I would like there to be, as per usual. I sigh again, this time not of relief.

It's enough to buy another pack of Marlboro Reds, but that's about it. I ponder what I know I might have to do. I've done it before, but I still don't like it every time.

It's easy to get scrappy when you're out here like I am, something I've noticed quite a bit. I've accepted it's just something you have to get used to. I justify it to myself as being better than what I escaped. I don't think anything tops that.

I finish the cigarette, fling the butt into the ground, and give it a good stomp. I worry that one day my shoes will be so worn that the soles will give out, and I might feel the cigarette on my foot next time. Irrational fear, I would notice before that.

I put the money neatly in my pocket and stand up, slinging my bag back around my shoulder. It's now closer to dusk, meaning I have to find a place to stay, and quickly.

I start walking up to the clear glass doors, and then push myself in. Instantly a wave of air conditioning hits my face and blows through my hair. Another small, heavenly moment. The aroma of the store came mostly from the direction of the freezers, sort of a cardboard-like smell, but comforting nonetheless.

Another curious smell entered my senses, but it almost wasn't a smell. It's more like a feeling, weirdly. But it's faint.

I brush it off, and look around. There's an older woman clerk behind the counter at a register, flipping through a magazine with long nails and chewing loudly on a piece of gum. She didn't look up when I came in. A good sign.

I walk in further under the harsh fluorescent lights and past an aisle. I keep on observing the store, on the lookout for things I want to take with me. I have to travel light, so I only allow myself the necessities.

I peer into an aisle and see a mother with her small daughter browsing the snacks. I peer into the next, a bigger looking man near the very end at the freezers in the back. It looks like he's looking at the alcohol.

I weave in through the aisle, carefully scanning its sides for things I might need. I see way too many things I want, that's for sure. It hurts my heart blowing right past the Twinkies. God, I haven't had one of those in a while.

The feeling I felt earlier comes on a little stronger. I can't help but feel that it is a sort of scent, but I can't really tell. I'm pretty sure I'm just dizzy from not eating, or something.

I move on from the aisle with nothing, proud of myself for refraining from grabbing something extraneous. I walk past the big guy, who definitely smells like he had already downed quite a few beers, and into the next aisle with the toiletries in it.

Near the end of the aisle is a younger looking guy, probably around my age, tall, sort of lanky. Immediately when I see him, I feel the weird sense again. I'm just hoping at this point that my stomach doesn't make some weird, worrying noise. But this time, it feels like it's coming from something external.

I keep walking closer the middle of the aisle, trying to focus on which stuff is on the shelves. The guy comes a little bit clearer into my peripheral view, and I can see that his dark brown hair is dyed red at the ends in the style of a mullet. He stays studying something hanging up in the row.

He seems like the type of person I would've liked to know. I always hung around the more alternative kids in school, and he seems like that type, with his overly ripped jeans and floral button-up shirt. But, I'm on the lonely road for now. I can't stick around anywhere.

I still feel the feeling, the sense, the smell. It worsens as I keep moving down, but it doesn't cloud my mind. I'm still clear-headed, but the scent is definitely present. I can't help but feel a sort of familiarity with it. Something kind of gross that reminds of me of my past. I try not to be reminded of what it is and keep on and on with my scanning.

And then, I spot it. The Holy Grail. Tampons. That is a necessity. I move immediately towards them low down on the shelf. I crouch down on the floor next to them and look for the right ones.

I keep looking, bluffing slightly by pretending to read the labels to get my bag open a little wider. I realize I'm lot closer to that guy now.

In a swift motion, I grab one of the boxes, and quickly swipe it into the bag. I try to think that maybe the guy didn't see it, but I'm not sure how he couldn't have. I reflexively and awkwardly turn my head up to look at him, checking to see if he was looking in my direction. Right as I turned, so did he.

We make eye contact, and the feeling I get is overwhelming. The smell is strong now. And I can definitely smell it. But that's not all that I'm sensing.

In the span of the few milliseconds I'd been looking at him, I somehow felt like there was some sort of energy field between us, an indescribable and sudden thing.

It's almost as if he read my mind, because the look he gives back to me is one of knowing, slightly bordering on confusion. He must be feeling something, too. He hums for a moment, and then nods a little, like he knows what I'm doing and is giving me the clear.

I'm still distracted by the whole interaction, and buffer for a moment before looking back down and swiping another box. How weird is this?

I'm still a little bit overtaken with my thoughts when the big, drunk guy walks into the aisle, holding a can in his hand. I look over his way as he leans down slightly, looking at a shelf a little ways away.

The mom with the kid from earlier then comes out from behind the other row, turning to come into the aisle. She's a little bit close to the drunk guy.

"Excuse me," she says to him, very politely.

"Woah, you tryin' to run me down?" he says loudly, unbalanced-ly turning towards her and getting awkwardly close in her space. She looks at him a little bit confused, and definitely scared, and keeps moving.

"I asked a question!" he rings again when she doesn't respond. She starts walking faster down the aisle. "Hear this, ya dumb hoe!-"

"Hey! Don't talk to her like that-," I quickly say, unable to keep it in.

"Hey!" the dark hair guy from before says behind me, directly after I speak up, almost cutting me off. "You're out of control, buddy."

I quickly turn around and look over at him. He's looking back down at the shelf already.

"Are you with the store, or something'?" drunk guy talks back, obviously perturbed.

"Nah, I'm not with the store, but I'm gonna escort you out of it," dark hair says back overconfidently, now standing up straight and starting to walk towards drunk guy.

"Fuckin' see what happens!" drunk guy shouts, coming closer.

What is this kid doing?, I think to myself. Drunk guy is probably 3 times the body mass of him. But he still approaches.

"See what happens? See what happens" dark hair mumbles tauntingly. "Is something bad gonna happen?" he turns to me and smirks while he says it, almost like a Watch this, and then turns back to the guy.

In one sudden, freak motion, dark hair comes up to drunk guy, and nearly head-butts him, making both me and drunk guy jump. He comes so close, and then moves away at the last second, like some sort of entrancing dance.

Dark hair moves around weirdly like a posturing animal in front of him, like nothing I've ever seen before. Drunk guy stands there for a second, extremely pissed off, before shouting Outside! and pointing out the store. Dark hair quickly runs away from him and out of the aisle, drunk guy hustling close behind.

I stand up from my crouch, trying to look over the row to see where they go.

"We're going outside!" he repeats, angrily.

"You enjoy hassling people, man? Is that what you do on Saturdays when you're done jerking off?" I hear dark hair say as he pushes open the door leading outside into the parking lot. Drunk guy keeps with him, looking more fuming than before.

They mumble something else to each other that I can't hear before fully exiting. I stand there for a second, trying to process what just happened. I luckily saw the mom and daughter checking out and about to leave, thankfully. I'll never understand jerks like that. What's their problem?

I then think about dark hair guy. I really hope he doesn't get beaten to a pulp out there, though I'm pretty sure that's what will happen. He was just trying to help.

I quickly remember what I'm doing in the store, and turn back to the shelf. Good thing is that whatever that was that just happened would definitely distract from the fact that I'm stealing.

Weirdly, I can still faintly smell the strange scent, but it mostly went away.

I lean back down to the tampons to grab one more box, and then, it hits me.

I gasp and drop the box I just grabbed on the ground. The scent. The knowing. I have felt it before.

A brief memory flashes in my mind of my older sister, someone I've tried to block from my memory altogether.

No matter how hard I try to forget about her and my family, I'll never forget what she did.

I shake my head, trying to clear my head. If I wasn't before, I was definitely dizzy now.

I know why I smelled what I did and felt what I did. It had to have been coming from the dark hair guy.

I recalled from the memory that it was when my sister came to me one day, her a teenager and I just a little bit younger. She told me something no kid should even know exists. She said she had urges to do terrible, terrible things.

Which, specifically, was eating people.

I was skeptical and didn't want to believe it for a long time, but that was before other things unfolded and everything went to shit, but it was real.

And the smell.

I had forgotten that there was a certain feeling that I got when I was around my sister, similar to experiencing an aroma, or an aura. I had picked up on it so sensitively from being around her often. And I also had a hunch it might be something genetic. 

But still, I never felt that connection feeling.

But I tried so, so hard to convince myself all of that shit was just a dream. And I still am. And that's part of why I am where I am.

I come back to reality, still standing in the same place.

I quickly pick up the box that I dropped, and move out of the aisle to another one, trying to just continue on with my day. But I'm thinking too hard, all of these drudged up thoughts and repressed memories surfacing.

But mostly, I was thinking about dark hair guy, wishing I knew his name, and thinking about how he looked at me. His chiseled face and shadowy features, but he looked kind. I'm pretty sure his eyes were green. He was really good looking, now that I think about it. Why am I thinking that? Why am I thinking good things about someone who I just found out is a cannibal?

I fight away that thought, but I still can't help but feel like there was something that was strange between us. I recognized the aura, but the connected sensation that I felt was completely foreign to me. It felt otherworldly. And I can't help but think that he felt it, too. It was weirdly comforting.

All I wanted to do was to talk to him, or something. Maybe he would even let me tag along with him, wherever he's going. It's hard being alone out here sometimes, not to mention dangerous. Maybe he even has some money, or a car. I assume he's on the run, sort of like I am. For different reasons, obviously, but I understand his cause.

I at least just want know who he is. And then I'll move on with my life. I just can't stop thinking about what I felt. The connection.

Or, I could just be getting dehydration hallucinations. Honestly, I hope it's that. It would make things a lot less complicated.

Being reminded of how thirsty I am, I move back towards the freezers, and grab a freezing cold water bottle and a glass coke bottle. I slip them both in my bag, maybe a little bit too obviously. I can't really get myself to care much anymore.

I grab a couple random bags of something from the snack aisle, slip that in my bag too, and then move to the front counter. The lady looks up from her magazine.

"Just some Marlboro Reds, please," I say. She looks me up and down for a moment, probably trying to study if I'm old enough. If she doesn't think so, she doesn't say anything, and turns around and grabs the box of cigarettes off the wall, and slides them onto the counter.

"Two-fifty," she says, sounding very unimpressed. I fork the money out of my pocket and hand it over. I give her three dollars.

While she gets my change out of the register, I look out the glass doors that lead outside, hoping maybe I see dark hair guy. I have no idea what could've gone on between him and that guy.

She dings the register closed, and I start to feel the smell entering my senses again. I frantically try to focus my eyes around the scenery outside, searching for any sign of dark hair guy. There's an abandoned-looking building across the parking lot from the store.

"Ma'am."

I turn towards the clerk lady. She's holding out my change for me. Fifty cents.

"Sorry," I say flustered, putting out my hand for the change. She drops it in my palm, I shove it in my pocket, grab my cigarettes, and walk to the door.

I pause in front of the entrance, my hands resting on the push handle. I look out of the glass and try searching more, attempting to follow the scent. It's fully dusk now. Fading pink and purple hues fill the horizon.

Without thinking, I push my way out the door, unable to ignore the scent still closing in on me. The air is slightly brisk, but still thick with humidity. My gaze is fixated on the abandon building as I carefully stalk closer to it, the dusty gravel of the lot crunching beneath my shoes. It seems like it's coming from that general direction.

Before I can process it, the smell gets overwhelmingly strong, my head and lungs almost drowning in it. I pause for a moment, almost hyperventilating. He was close.

A sudden noise comes from the building, a sound like shoes scuffing on concrete. A person emerges from the shadows of a window-less hole in the side of the decrepit building.

Its him. He's not wearing a shirt, and there's blood all over him.

He's carrying a bag, which he quickly throws down once he jumps over the short wall. He crouches down and pulls something out of it, and then turns his head, eyes landing on me. All I can do is stare back. 

We recognize each other for a moment, and then he turns his attention back down to whatever he pulled out of the bag, which was a water bottle. He unscrews the lid, places the bottle between his knees so the water comes spilling out, and splashes it on himself in efforts of cleaning the blood off. 

I realize that he's now wearing a hat. The same one drunk guy was wearing in the store. 

Did he...?

He screws the top back on the bottle, shoves it in his bag, and slings it over his shoulder. He turns in my direction, and stops, looking me dead in the eye. I stand still, the sound of my heart beating consuming my hearing. He slowly starts to stalk towards me, maintaining the menacing eye contact.

He pauses just slightly in his tracks, like he's trying to study me, smell me, maybe, before he keeps walking. I felt hot under his brief stare, like I was under a magnifying glass being angled to the sun. 

He gets closer, and then turns abruptly to the right towards the cars in the lot, his gaze now averted down to his feet.

"He's over in there, like, 400 yards, if you want him," he says, breaking the silence. He points over to the building using his head, still walking.

I keep staring, not sure what to say. I shake my head no, slightly. I guess he did eat that guy. Oh God. Does he think I wanna eat him?

I should probably get far away from him, but I can't shake this weird feeling. I still feel like I need to talk to him, or something. 

Before I know it, I'm moving to follow him, my curiosity getting the better of me.

"Could you tell anything? In the store?" I blurt out, not thinking before speaking. My question doesn't make much sense. What I meant to say more coherently was if he could tell that I sensed him, or if he felt the weird feeling that I felt, too. 

Still, he pauses, and half-turns around to look at me. "I smelled you. In the store. I didn't know I could do that," I say again, trying to save myself. Trying to tell him I'm different, too.

Again, he just stares. The same menacing, yet studying, stare.

"I'm, uh, going west for awhile, and I got dumped here by the train. I just stole dinner because, well, I don't have any money," I drone on, attempting to fill the awkward silence, and maybe allude to us being some sort of alliance.  "You're not local either, I guess?"

"Why does that matter?" he quickly responds, almost in a mumble.

I pause for a moment. He's defensive, and I'm not sure what to say. But, at least he said something. It's quiet before I speak again.

"That was nice, what you did for that mom in there," I say, changing the subject and attempting to be friendly, searching for any sort of camaraderie.

Silence, again. Staring, again. He looks confused more than anything. His expression clearly reads Why are you talking to me?

"I'm eighteen, if you're wondering," I add on. I need him to know I'm really on my own, and I'm an adult. I nervously fiddle with the hem of my shorts.

"I was gonna guess younger," he says, in his same mumble tone. Man of few words.

"Thanks," I reply, looking down at the ground, unsure of what to say again. He turns his head and spits on the ground in front of him.

"I don't usually talk to anyone after. I don't actually meet many others. Sorta glad not to," he speaks again, turning on his heel and approaching a blue pick-up truck. His words were so quiet, I almost didn't hear him. He's definitely on the run.

"Yeah, I get that," I say to his now turned back, my feet moving to catch up to him. He reaches into the truck through the open window and unlocks it, clicking open the door. "Except, I'm not really like you. I don't... eat."

He pauses, half-turning again. Staring, again, his puzzled look returning. I stop in my tracks in front of him.

"I can just, sorta, tell when someone does. I knew someone else who did. My sister. So, I'm cool. I understand."

"Huh," he huffs out, his jaw twinged a bit in curiosity. He thought that I was an eater. So, he did feel something. "Still, I'm just saying. I'm not an asshole."

He turns back around and fully opens the car door, starting to put his bag on the seat. We're both silent. He's running, and I'm not sure I can get him to take me with him. I do get it, really. There's not much I can do. Maybe I shouldn't get myself into this mess, anyway.

"You should probably go, anyway. Up close you can see blood," I say, half in defeat, and half in genuinely trying to help.

He turns his head again and gives me a scoff-like expression, almost like a smirk. Like he thinks I might be a little over the top.

"We're fine," he says, and then turns back around, shuffling through his bag.

I look down, and then around at the street and the store, hesitant of what to do. I realize that it's basically dark, and I still don't have a place to sleep. God.

"No, I'm really not sure I am," I respond, semi-absentmindedly, still looking around. I'm worried, now. I might have to sleep next to the dead guy in the building tonight.

He turns to me again. He's put on his shirt and is pulling on the floral one. He looks around for a moment, like he's thinking of saying something he doesn't really want to. There's a hint of sympathy on his face, but mostly reluctance.

"Do you want to get in? For a minute?" he says, his eyes on me now, his finger pointed at the truck.

I look up at him, surprised. He was definitely just trying to get me to get the hell away from him a minute ago. I nod at him slightly, appreciative. His expression is softer now, which I much prefer than the scary one. It looks more like the one he had back in the store.

He then hops into the driver's seat of the truck, and I quickly walk around to the passenger side. He shuts his door and leans his arm up on the edge, looking out the window. I get in next to him, shut the door, and look around the truck.

It's a nice Ford truck, with a bench seat and an FM radio. He averts his gaze from the window to inside, specifically at the glove compartment in front of me. He moves his arm to open it up, his other hand on the wheel. He cracks it open and it makes a loud noise, and his hand brushes up against my knee. He moves it quickly.

He shuffles through the small compartment and pulls out a few pieces of paper, and then holds them up in front of him.

"Barry Cook. 5278 Route 13. Centerville, Indiana. Hm," he reads. His registration?

"Wait, is this your car?" I ask, a little concerned.

"No. It's the guy's," he says, pointing again towards the building with his head. Jesus, stealing his car? I'm still getting used to the fact that he ate him.

"Well, this truck is his. You can't just take it," I say, turned towards him. There's a little bit of urgency in my tone. A little bit of worry, too.

"Everyone's got their rules. That's not one of my rules," he replies, still studying the paper.

I sit back in the seat, a little bit taken aback. I guess there's not much else you can do to that guy. He's gone now.

"What are you gonna do now?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"Go to house, probably," he says, looking up from the paper and out at the road.

"His house?"

"Yeah, he didn't have any pictures in his wallet. I think I'll be alright."

"You took his wallet, too?"

"I didn't take his wallet, I took the money out of the wallet. Eight bucks," he says, doing the smirk-scoff again. "I chucked the wallet in the creek back there."

He shuffles some more in his bag. I look around again, still taken aback. I can't be judgmental. I live on the rocks, too. I knew how my sister was. It was something that she couldn't fight off doing. I'm surprised now, but I'd probably be doing some of the same bad things in a couple months time. I never thought I'd ever steal, and look where I'm at now.

I scan outside a little more, considering if I should take the risk and go with him. I mean, he is who he is and does what he does. I don't know if I'm safe. I don't even know his name. I should probably be really scared that he'll kidnap me and eat me, and normally I would be, but somehow, something inside of me is telling me that he won't. And I can't deny that feeling. I also really don't want to sleep outside.

"Do you feel it?" he asks abruptly, breaking me out of my thoughts. I whip my head towards him. Is he a mindreader too? 

He's staring down at the steering wheel, jaw clenched, the red in his hair barely visible in the dark. I take in the question for a second, looking at him. He does.

"Yeah, I do. If you're talking about what I think you are."

He sucks on his teeth, and nods slightly. I search his face for some kind of resolution, like he might know what it is.

"I thought you were like me, but you're not. You're different," he says, still looking down, "I've never met anyone like that. Like you."

My heart flutters in my chest a little bit. He doesn't know. So, then what is it?

"I don't know what it is," I say, looking down at my lap now, suddenly a bit shy. Something about the conversation felt vulnerable, now. I remembered again that I still don't know his name. I look up at him once more. "I'm y/n."

He looks up at me. The shadow of his strong nose casts on his face.

"I'm Lee."

Lee. I like that name.

I felt the need to explain myself to him, why I was out here. I still feel weird at how little we know about each other. He's still looking over at me.

"I'm out here by choice. I ran away from home, in Florida," I say, looking out the windshield momentarily. "Just some fucked up family shit. Sort of has to do with my sister. It's a lot. But it's been a few weeks, and I'm already up here."

Lee looks down at his lap, nodding.

"I get that."

Its quiet again for a moment.

"I thought my sister was the only one," I say, breaking the silence, "Until now." Lee's gaze flickers over to me for a second. "I don't know if I should be surprised, or not."

"There's a lot of us," he says, sullenly. He picks his head up and looks outside again. I feel bad. I can't imagine being in his shoes. I knew what it was like for my sister, and I would never wish that on any being. Let alone 'a lot' of beings.

A wave of tiredness hits me, and I'm reminded again of sleep. I should probably ask Lee if I can stay with him before assuming I can. He's only agreed to let me sit in here with him.

"Hey, do you think you could help me?" I say, and his gaze shifts forward, out the windshield, like he's listening. "I'm new at all this, and, I'm all alone out here. Maybe, I could just, come with you for awhile. Wherever you go. I don't care."

I watch his reaction as his jaw twinges again, like he's thinking, but leaning towards no. But, he's still thinking.

"Look, I won't try to mess with you, I promise. I'll stay away and let you do, you know. I'm not gonna tell anyone or freak out or anything. I understand," I say, almost desperately.

He sighs, and then picks up the guy's hat from earlier off the seat, and puts it on. He turns the key in the ignition, and starts the car.

"You said west?" he asks, and my stomach leaps in relief. I can't help but let out a small smile. He looks over at me for just a moment and sees my expression.

"Thank you," I say, sincerely. I relax a little bit, and realize that I'd been tensed up for sometime. I have a place to sleep now.

"We're going to this guy's house first. And then I'm on the road," he says, starting to slowly pull out of the parking lot.

"Okay," I reply, nodding. I'm a little bit creeped that it's a dead guy's house, but I'm ready to get used to it. I already was at one point in my life. If I'm gonna stick around, I better do it again.

Lee stops at the street, looks both ways, and then turns right down the road. I look out the window. It's crazy the difference in scenery when you're walking versus driving. I'm appreciating it much more in the car. This truck definitely beats walking.

The windows are down, and a slight wind blows through my hair. Another small slice of heaven moment. I close my eyes, letting the cool air and street lamplight cascade over me.

I open them again, and then look over at Lee, his eyes concentrated on road ahead of him. I stare for a second, maybe a little bit longer than I intend to, and I start to see a smirk spread across his mouth. He laughs, just a little bit. He can tell I'm looking at him.

I can't help but smile slightly and laugh, too. I turn my attention back out the window. Maybe we will be friends. I hope we can be.

I shut my eyes again, seeing if I can doze off. The seat is comfortable, and car ride will probably be long. I listen to the summer breeze outside and crickets chirping, and it's enough to almost send me off.

I peek my eyes open one more time, and lean my head against the door. The side mirror is turned inward just enough so I can see Lee in the driver's seat. I watch for a second, and then see him turn his head towards me, once, twice, and then a third time. 

He was looking at me. I don't think he knows I can see him. 

I feel my cheeks getting hot slightly, and then close my eyes again. Another moment. 

I think we might be friends.

* * *

hope u enjoyed !! lmk if u want a part 2

[drakoneve]

Destined Meetings

request: Hey, do you think you could write something where the reader is related to tig somehow, and they're in charming for work or college and they start a relationship with juice? Cute and a little angsty at first?

pairing: Juice Ortiz x Trager!Reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: club crimes, reader's mom isn't the best + suggested childhood trauma, alcohol and drug (maryj) use

a/n: there will be another part for sure, but i might make this a bit of a mini-series, lmk what you think. happy reading!

Tig hardly ever talked about it, but he'd been married once. He would rather die than ever admit he loved anyone but Dawn and Fawn, but he loved her. And you, his sweet, sweet Y/n.

His heart clenched at the thought of you. You were only two years old at the time of the accident. The day your mother decided she had had enough of Tig and the life he came with and that she needed to run.

It was that day, when your mother pulled out of Charming and never looked back. She only made it two towns over before she took a reckless turn right off an overpass into oncoming traffic.

Tig could remember the look on Unser's face as he approached the older man in the TM parking lot like yesterday, and how he wished he could go back and convince your mom not to go. Or to leave you, at least.

Unser had just began working with the club back then, and this case in particular had always stuck with him. A woman trying to escape her outlaw husband with their baby daughter who ends up getting into a horrific accident that ends up killing them both? One of the saddest stories Unser had ever heard.

Except for the fact none of it was true.

Because there you stood, alive and well, right in front of the Chief's desk.

"I know it sounds crazy," you shake your head, hopeful look on your face. "I wouldn't believe it either, actually. And I don't really have any proof other than my memories, but I'm sure it's him."

The aging polaroid in you had provided him of a much younger Tig and a woman he recognizes to be your mother back when she was pregnant with you.

"No, no," he waves your worries away. "I believe you. In fact, I remember your mother, vaguely, and you look a lot like her."

You grimace. "Yeah, I've been told a few times. So do you know where I can find Alexander?"

Chief Unser pulls a pen from his shirt pocket and begins writing on a slip of paper on his desk. "This is the address of the Teller-Morrow, the automotive shop your dad works at. I would take you there myself, but I'm swamped here."

"Oh, it's no issue," you shrug and take the slip of paper. "I can get there myself. Thank you for everything, though."

You turn and begin to leave when Unser calls for you to stop.

"I forgot to mention, your dad goes by 'Tig.'"

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ 

Juice stretched out his arms and popped his neck while he wiped his hands with a rag. Two weeks of waiting for one part was finally over, and he could get this damn Taurus out of the shop. He tossed the rag into his toolbox when a sleek black car comes rumbling into the lot.

He leaves the garage to get a closer look and notices the car is actually a classic, a well taken care of (or well restored) '69 Chevy. While he admires the car he notices you, too.

Your hair is partly clipped back, with enough loose enough to frame your face in a casual look. You're pretty, and admittedly he'd be more distracted by you but Juice can tell by the look on your face you're nervous. Juice would know, it's a look he's had to learn to hide.

By sight and sound nothing seemed to be wrong with your car, and Juice can't help but wonder why you're here.

You shut the engine off and exit your vehicle, all the while silently composing yourself. Heart thudding in your chest, you wonder if you're doing the right thing.

Juice takes the moment you shut the door to approach further.

"Hello," he greets politely, friendly smile on his face. "I'm Juice, and I'll be taking care of you today. What seems to be the problem?"

"Oh, no," you shake your head and laugh nervously. "Nothing's wrong with her. I'm actually-"

You pause, close your eyes for a second and bite the inside of your bottom lip. Juice can't help but watch you fondly, finding you oddly adorable.

Finally you open your eyes and flash a bright, genuine smile.

Damn, I'm made, he thinks.

"This is gonna sound completely insane," you explain, nervously clasping your hands together. "But, um, I'm looking for Alexa- well, no, Tig, Tig Trager."

Juice raises his brows. "Tig? Uh, I don't know if now's the best time."

It's true, he's currently in Oakland with Jax and Chibs on quick business.

"Look, I know it's inconvenient and you don't know me," you plead. You're closer now and Juice can smell your sweet perfume and practically feel your hopefulness. "But until a couple months ago I had no idea my dad was even alive. And then I found out I was here for weeks before realizing he's here, too."

Your dad? There has to be a story there. Juice raises his hands to either side of your arms, holding you still in hopes to assure you.

"It's okay," he says sternly, but in an endearing way. "Tig's not here right now but he should be soon, so let's head on inside and you can tell me a little bit about you. Just to be sure, no offense."

You smile, relieved to be believed to some extent rather than none. "Thank you, Juice. Thank you."

Juice leads you into the Teller-Morrow through the garage entrance into the larger building. From what you could see on the outside you wouldn't have imagined such a spacious clubhouse inside.

Inside were several pool tables, a couch with mini pieces about, a bar with stools, and other tables each with their own set of chairs. Decorations littered the walls and floors and you laughed to yourself as you noted a nearly full ashtray on almost every surface and a wall completely dedicated to mugshots.

Juice leads you to the bar where he gestures for you to sit as he makes his way around. You slip onto a stool and watch patiently as Juice finds two glasses and turns to you.

"What's your preference?"

You shrug, "Whatever, I'm not partial. On the rocks, though."

He serves you and pours his own drink before setting the bottle down and leaning on the bar on his elbows in front of you.

"So tell me about you," Juice presses softly. He can tell by your fingers circling the rim of your glass that you're not excited for this conversation but he has no choice. "You said you've been here for a few weeks, where'd you live before?"

"Nevada, mostly," you tell him before sipping on your drink. "My mother moved us around a couple times and we lived in Colorado for a while before eventually settling in Sparks."

"Why'd you guys move around?"

You drain the rest of your drink quickly in hopes it'll support you through this conversation. Juice begins to refill your glass without being asked.

"I didn't know it then, but my mom was running from the Sons," you confess.

Juice's eyes widen slightly as he looked you over. What could you know about the club? They were notorious around Charming sure, but with their recent run ins with the ATF has the club struggling and making choices they wouldn't normally make.

You continue, "It wasn't until I graduated high school and I left that she told me my dad was actually alive. Then she told me about the Sons of Anarchy, and everything else I did on my own."

Juice nods, unsure of what to say. He nurses his drink for a moment before reaching for your hand.

"This life is complicated, but we're a family here."

The gesture, simple as it is, riles up all the pent up feelings you've mastered all your life comes rushing forward as tears brim your eyes.

"Family," you repeat and pull your hand from Juice to wipe your tears. "What a weird concept?"

The two of you talk well into the evening and you end up migrating to the couch with a bottle and a large bowl of buttery popcorn. Juice made good company. He's genuine, gunny, and from the way he talks you can tell the Sons are something special to him.

He tells you about himself in turn for the vulnerable information you've given him. You learn he was born and raised in New York before coming to Charming, and he has a little sister behind in the city. Juice tells you he works in the TM garage alongside what he does for the club.

"I'm not stupid," you tell him once you notice his hesitance. "It's not hard to find information on the club from the locals around here."

He chuckles softly, "Yeah, I'm sure. If you have any questions, you can ask me."

Before you can the rumbling of bikes coming into the TM parking lot distracts you. Instinctively you grabbed Juice's hand, but let go just as fast as you'd grabbed him. Luckily before he can say anything the door bursts open and income more Sons.

The first is a younger blond man with piercing blue eyes and you notice the President patch on his left. He greets Juice happily before his eyes look to you, and he looks confused but seemingly brushes it off and goes to the bar.

Your dad walks in near arm in arm with another handsome man with scarred cheeks, obviously older than he is in the polaroid you own, but otherwise he seems the same. Its as if he can feel your gaze as he turns to meet his blue eyes to your own.

You stand, trying to ignore the thumping of your heart in your chest. "Hi, Tig," you greet, silently cursing the waver in your voice. Immediately the polaroid is out of your back pocket and in your hand. "My name's Y/n, and my mom's Y/m/n."

He takes the polaroid from you without a word and holds it carefully in his hands. His friend has stepped away towards Juice, likely for questioning.

"I saw Unser earlier today," you continue on. "He told me that I have a grave here in Charming, so does mom. Funny, considering she always told me you were the dead one."

You take a shaky breath in, trying to keep from bursting into tears. "I just... I wanted you to know I'm not dead, very much alive. I don't, like, expect anything from you I just knew I had to say something."

Tig finally breaks away from the polaroid to meet your eyes again, and it makes you feel a bit better to see his blue eyes are as tear filled as your own.

He raises one hand to cup your cheek, thumb moving to wipe your tears. "Losing you was the worst pain of my life," he admits softly.

His words crumble your resolve, the walls you'd spent your adolescence building to protect yourself fell faster than they were constructed. You practically fall into his arms, and the two of you break down as you hold each other.

As you sob into Tig's chest he merely cradles you the way he wishes he'd been able to all these years. The way he deserved to have been there for you. He holds you tight against him like he's afraid you'll dissipate and it'll be decades before he sees you again.

"We're gonna be okay, baby," he tells you. "We're gonna be okay."

This time, he's not going to be letting you go so easy.

[sardonic-the-writer]

May I please request for a platonic Ricky Goldsworth x reader, he's teaching them how to crime properly but they're just the nicest and sweetest person ever?

-Spoiled Anon

Hey! Havnt seen you in a while! And thanks for the request. Hope you like it :)

"I know how to hold a gun, Ricky."

It was about the fifth time you had said that in the past hour. And your accomplice still wouldn't stop hovering.

The name Ricky Goldsworth was well known in this town. To most he was a never relenting cloud of doom that spelled misery for everything that they could ever care about. A low life, murdering, son of a bitch to others: namely C.C Tinsley, head of local law enforcement. But to you? He was just the guy that you happened to have met while carrying in your groceries last winter.

Maybe in hindsight, becoming friends with the most wanted man this side of the state border wasn't what your mama had in mind when she told you to go out there and meet new people, but you had always had a way of exceeding expectations. Maybe not the intended way but still.

"Really? I find it hard to believe you know how to aim and shoot a .22 caliber, considering you volunteer at the soup kitchen in your spare time. Pretty sure I saw you save an elderly woman from traffic the other day too." Rickys tone was a light one, but you could still feel the resistance in it. He liked to claim he was a stone wall when it came to emotions. A lot of people did. But he always had trouble hiding them from you. And right now, he was clearly nervous. Whether that be at the prospect of you accidently shooting yourself or him, you didn't know. Probably both.

"Must have been some other dashing do-gooder, I'm sure." You shrugged playfully, noting the way Ricky restrained himself from grabbing the gun in your hands to reposition it when you made the slight movement. If he had, you couldn't guarantee you wouldn't have slapped his hand away.

"Hardy har. You must be real fun at parties."

"You know it Goldy." Lips curving upward into a smile, your grip on the gun in your hands loosened as you put it back onto safety mode. "But a more serious question for a moment. Do you really think I'm going to start committing crime with you? I might steal the occasional apple but grand theft auto and larceny is where I draw the line bud."

"It was worth a shot asking. Besides. Now I know you know how to use a gun. That puts some of my worries to rest at least." The ravenette responded with a sideways smile. You tossed his gun back to him, ignoring the way he glared at you for nearly dropping his prized beauty in the dirt below. Pros of conversing in an alleyway about crime is that no one will look twice. Cons? You might get your mass murdering friends gun dirty.

"Sometimes you stress me out, Ricky. While I appreciate the offer, I'll have to decline. I'm pretty busy anyways. Don't know how I'd schedule you in in between tax season and saving puppies from oncoming traffic."

"Asshole."

"Call me that again and I will turn you into Tinsley myself."

"Did I say asshole? I meant oh thank you wonderful (Y/n) for gracing me with your presence."

"Yeah yeah, love you too smart ass."

[ireallylikehickorysticksyay]

just need to get something off my chest here. im sorry if im yucking on your yum but it truly is irksome.

an intrusive thought? is not a "bad thought" you think BECAUSE of a strong emotion

it is a "bad thought" that CAUSES a strong emotion

a guy on the train is being obnoxious so you have a snippet of fantasizing about giving him a piece of your mind or doing onto him as he's doing to others? "oh he's pissing me off i could just toss him out the window" that's just a petty thought, an emotional thought, perhaps an invasive one. an urge mayhaps.

your best friend who you adore is sitting on the bus and there is no tention between you, and you have a flash of "what would it sound like to toss them out the window" maybe you see or feel it happening even though you're sitting still? that causes you great stress? that is an intrusive thought

i adore cats but i can't pet them often or for very long because my brain is flooded with images of me dismembering them. sometimes i can feel the blood cool on my hands and turn tacky their claws digging into me, squirming, flailing to try and get away. i can hear their hypothetical screams, i can feel a burning tense energy building up as if my body is getting ready to do it. all while im petting them gently and im too scared to push them off my lap incase i accidentally throw them through the window or trample them to death in a self fuffilling prophecy, unfortunately, no i am not exaggerating. this horrifies me. obviously. it would cause anguish to anyone. it fucks with me so much so that i can't always eat, not even just an aversion to meat or fake meat or turning the stove on, or picking up a knife, but even straight up tomato sauce, sometimes im too exhausted or stressed to eat. because of that "what if i'd done it. what if i'd done it in my sleep. i would never know."

i lose sleep over the sheer concept of what if the intrusive thought wins. ive been locked in a hospital room because i was keen to die because of this. both from the fear of myself and the dread of what others might think if they'd known, if they'd think me a monster and be right as if their thoughts would prove to me i actually would do these things. i didnt like these thoughts of course but what if they did mean something about me? i get the urge to jump in front of oncoming traffic because of these thoughts, i can feel the wind be knocked out of me before the internal flash of my eyes. my bones crushing and puncturing my skin from the inside the failure of my bladder or bowels from the impact the scrapping of the pavement as i land the weight and grinding of the wheels going over me squishing blood from my minced entrails and this vivid imagination of such a demise may be intrusive for others but it is welcomed in the home that is my desolate mind. a brief heavenly hyperfixation to distract from what i otherwise cannot escape.

i get that sometimes you learn a new phrase or a new word and you're excited to use it, but part of learning words is learning their meaning. you eating the cookie from your friends hand and laughing about it is not "listening to the intrusive thought" it is not "the intrusive thought won" it's "my urge was followed through on" "my inner cookie monster won"

it's "im close enough to my friend that we can do weird annoying shit and laugh it off, if not immediately, then certainly later. thus me eating their cookie like a fucked up demonic seagul is the deepest sign of respect trust and love there is"

im sorry to yuck on peoples yum, no one who does or says this is a bad person nor do they deserve harassment, id hope that much would be obvious. it's just grating and maybe im a sensitive snowflake but my god is it a slap in the fucking face.

[lildoodlenoodle]

Having financial complications at my school bc of the whole getting sick, missing finals, and now taking them a month later in the new semester, so all but 4 credits from last semester are incomplete. And to be clear these issues will likely be fixed by next week and I’ll have all my credits and it’ll be fine and I’m trying not to have a heart attack about it and not toss myself out a window into oncoming traffic

HOWEVER DESPITE THAT my school is telling me to pay 30,000$ by Monday(or they’re going to unregistered me from my classes) and that once everything is fixed they’ll pay it back ig???

But ummm I don’t exactly have 30k laying around. Hell my parents combined don’t even have 30k laying around, my parents don’t even have a retirement fund. So my school is telling me to get a loan for the 30k, even sending me a link for it! and I could be wrong, I could be wrong, but taking out a 30k loan, for a week, sounds beyond asinine.

AND THE TRULY CRAZY PART IS THE OFFICE ISNT EVEN OPEN TILL MONDAY.

anyways guess I’ll dye my hair tn

[mysticmannor]

Thursday, October 19, 2023

I’m at walmart with my mother. Walmart has rentable storage lockers in my dream, and you have to buy a certain amount of things to qualify to get one. I end up buying some guys stuff that he abandoned at the register, tossing back the frozen stuff that I can’t keep. Also there’s lottery tickets that I didn’t really want to buy but did anyway.

We get a fruit juice and head out to the storage lot, mom leaves somewhere in the car and I am nosing around in the biggest storage locker I’ve ever seen. I have lots of boxes and a big bed in it. There is a turn in the space, L shaped. the bed is not pressed against the wall, it’s laid up on the frame and the frame has made a hallway of sorts on the far back wall unseeable from the front of the storage room.

I’m piddling as a man walks into the space, he is threatening but I don’t understand why. He’s speaking slowly and calm. I am too but realize the situation is about to escalate. I can’t recall the words exchanged exactly.

He slides onto the bed, a gun in hand resting on the back of the bed frame, pointed at me in the makeshift hallway. I get closer to the pistol’s barrel and say “You’re not going to shoot me, you won’t get what you want.” He doesn’t flinch, speak or show any expression.

He pulls the chamber back. It holds, “you want to bet lady?” he says. “I guess I’m the gambling type today.” I fire back. He drops the chamber and cocks the gun again. I realize there’s no bullets in it now, he flounders to get it to hold this time.

I grab the pistol in my right hand, swinging my body over the left of the bed frame weight on his wrist. I grab the gun and dismantle it as he jumps up. I toss it on the ground in his direction, now to the right of the bed and in the view of the opening of the roll top door.

Before I can fully register it, he’s jumped on me and we are tussling. I pat my jeans looking for my handy knife, rolling over and over the floor he doesn’t see it. I pull his hurt right wrist back pinning him face down. His left arm underneath my crouched left leg, my right supporting his spine.

Instinctively I snatch his head by a fistful of hair in my left fist, releasing his poorly busted right arm I pop my switchblade out of my waistline. He’s cussing in an ugly language. Russian, German? Not sure, but you can tell it’s curses. I swiftly slice the meat of his neck as if it were a chicken breast in the walmart next door.

Gargling, my left fist pulls his wound deeper as his neck is forced backwards. His gasping slowing, I tell myself here as I’m breathing for the time time in minutes that I won’t look at his face. I try to think how this looks, why he was after me. I wonder if someone’s knew where he was.

I sit behind the bed frame, finding a flip. I know it will call 911 even without service. Should I call? It was self defense. Would they believe me? His dead body excreting fluid all over my storage room, I’ll lose the deposit. I spring up to haul his body outside the next door. I roll him over so that maybe most the blood would soak up in his clothes and not the pavement. I didn’t look at his face.

I go back to my safe space in the makeshift hall. I’m thinking do I call? Do I run? They’ll find security footage of me at walmart, in the storage lot at the time of death. They’ll find forensics all over the room. If I get caught up in the system, I’ll be busted for much more than a self defense case. As I’m thinking the options over, I hear someone rush my decisiveness.

A woman hollers outside, explaining the man is in a real bad way. Someone else is with her, I can barely see her head peering over the man in the far right view of the open door. Shit. No doubt now, I’m fucked. I quietly and quickly grab my go bag, in the chaos of them calling the cops from their car I escape to the main road.

The sun has gone down, and the sky is gray in color. I walk down the main road as cooling as possible, not looking into the oncoming traffic until nightfall. When it is pitch black, I start looking into backyards of the homes on the way of the road. I find a pretty one with a decent wooden gate. There’s a nice seating area around a long forgotten fire pit.

I climb over and rest a while. As the morning comes, the grayness returns in the skies. I walk over to a corner store that is not open yet. Across the lot of the gas station, a group of grungy people lay across large boulder rocks on blankets. Homeless, drug addicted and runaways chain smoking and drifting, I would blend in. I make my over and pull out a half smoked spliff, offering the group as they made room on the rock for me.

We waited for the store to open, all gathered supplies for the day and I borrowed a phone to reach out to a friend. She came to pick me up, and I showered at her place. I didn’t tell her anything, or her military husband. I took a spare bed or theirs. Recollecting my things, finally feeling like I could think a moment… the flip phone rings.

[colesterstrudel]

are you ok?

My mental health is at an all time low but I have a video of one of my backyard raccoons making a funny noise so like. You tell me.

[devildomz]

I would mutilate myself daily if he was my doctor I would run into oncoming traffic I would put myself into harm's way I would make a deal on the dark web to contract a rare incurable disease if he was the primary physician tasked with healing me or at least tending to me in my dying days so he would be the last delirious sight I see before I kick the bucket and he tosses my body out back

[dramaphan]

pls, tell the car story - 🐸

Buckle up, it’s a long one!!

Let me set the scene for you. It’s my night off. I have slept all afternoon and evening, and woken up at somewhere around midnight, and I am starving. However, I live in a small town in the middle of piss off nowhere, and nothing is open past 10pm except for one timmies that doesn’t sell food overnight. So I decide to hop a few towns over to the nearest 24 hour McDonald’s and get myself a mcchicken and some waffle fries.

It’s also worth mentioning here that my car has a push button start, not a traditional key. So I hop in the car, chuck my keys in the cup holder, and off I go.

I’m now on the highway, cruising along at a slick 120, and I happen to notice that there’s a bunch of garbage in my cup holder I should get rid of. Papery shit like receipts and straw wrappers and whatnot. Biodegradable. So I decide to be a little naughty and litter just this one time. It’s only paper! It’s fine! So I reach into my cup holder and grab a big fistful of shit and toss it right out the window.

It is at this point that I hear something fairly heavy hit the ground and jingle off into the distance. It is at this moment I realize I have fucked up.

Now, this is a divided highway, so I can’t just turn around, or I’d be driving into oncoming traffic. Not that there’s really anybody else around at 12:30am but still, I don’t wanna get the cops called on me. Apparently my car will still drive without the keys, which is good to know, but I can only assume that if I turn off the engine for any reason, I’ll be fucked.

So at this point I make a bit of a reckless decision. My keys are somewhere behind me, maybe in the middle of the highway, maybe in the ditch somewhere, who knows! Not me!! And I have no option but to go fuckin find them, because I cannot call anyone at this hour of the night and admit to being the most braindead man alive. So I throw my little Honda in reverse, and start backing up down the goddamn highway, occasionally pulling over whenever another car would come by. My theory here was that I would eventually go past my keys again, and I’d be able to see them in my headlights.

So I reverse to a point where I think I must be getting close, and I hop my little ass out of the car, and start walking. Nothin but my iPhone flashlight and 10% battery to guide me. I abandon my running car on the side of the road, and I spend roughly 30 minutes stumbling in and out of the ditch, all over 3 lanes of highway, up and down the same stretch of road a million times. It’s well after 1am by this point, and I’m ready to give up my search. I feel like I’ve gone too far, I’m cold as hell, so I give up, and start heading back to my car, which I guess I’ll have to sleep in now since my apartment keys are also long gone.

It’s during this walk of shame that another car goes past me, and in their headlights, I see a flash of something shiny in the Center lane. It cannot be anything else. What else could it be!! So I dash out into the middle of the highway, and sure enough, my keys are right there waiting for me, barely a scratch on em.

Realistically I should have wrote off the whole night, but I did in fact still go get my mcchicken, because I think I had fucking earned it

And to right my wrongs, I even picked all my stupid garbage back up. Don’t litter, kids. Not even if it’s just paper!!

[michelle-is-writing]

Rain, Bo Burnham

Word count: 1k~

Bright and early mornings are something special for Bo and me. With him being a night owl and me having to work during the day, we try to spend as much time together as we can during our free time. With that, we always try to do something fun together in the afternoon and evening; however, the rare mornings we get are still the best part of the day. Sometimes we decide to stay in and cook breakfast together, or at other times, we start the day off by going on a road trip. This morning is different, however. Bo had the brilliant idea to go out to get coffee early so we could avoid the line, and to avoid the heavy traffic, we should walk there instead of driving.

I have to admit that getting coffee was a great idea; however, not taking our car was the worst idea Bo could ever conjure up. Today was supposed to be a bright, sunny day, but as soon as we stepped out of the coffee shop, the clouds decided to swarm us and begin pouring rain down upon us.

"Bo, come on! We have to hurry!" I yell as we both run to our shared apartment in an attempt to escape the pouring rain from above.

"I'm trying, I'm trying!" Bo shouts back, trailing behind me. "I'm trying not to slip!" He adds, making me hold back a laugh at the image that pops into my head.

Within a few seconds, Bo appears beside me with his coat held out above us to shield our heads from the oncoming storm. However, this proves to be useless as the rainwater begins to quickly seep through the denim and drip onto us once again.

"Such the gentleman!" I comment sarcastically, seeing our apartment within fifty feet of us. "You would think that with your height and long legs, you would run faster than me!" I joke, smirking to myself.

In response, Bo quickly laughs at my joke for a short second before yanking the coat away in a joking-angry way. He's always so dramatic, but in the end, you have to love him.

The rain then begins to hit us harder, but luckily, it happens right as we stop at our apartment door. I quickly take my keys from my pocket and search for the house key before finally finding it and unlocking the door. I immediately throw the heavy wooden door open and run into our home with Bo right behind me.

With Bo closing the door behind us, a few seconds pass between us before we both release a small sigh, the sound of the rain hitting against the roof almost overpowering us. Catching my breath from the run back here, I peel off my water-drenched shirt and toss it onto the kitchen tile next to the washer and dryer. Turning around to Bo, I see him staring at me with a sweet smile marked on his lips, causing me to return the smile and do the same. Although, now that I realize I took my shirt off in front of him without even an ounce of hesitation, I know his smile is probably more teasing than anything.

Trying to avoid slipping on the hardwood beneath my feet, I move forward and take the wet coat from his hands while slipping the equally drenched sweater over his head. "Of course it has to rain the day we decide to leave the house before noon," Bo mutters, tugging his arms from the sweater sleeves so he can be shirtless like me. Draping the soaked sweater over my arm, I giggle at his comment before leaning forward and kissing his almost pouting lips. "Maybe this is a sign that we need to sleep in till noon instead."

Smiling, I lightly pat Bo's cheek. "I would take the bags underneath your eyes as a sign, hun," I tell him with a joking tone, watching him nod with a chuckle as he tries to tame his longer hair. A few seconds pass before Bo speaks again, although, as he does so, I take the time to admire his looks. His dirty blonde hair is drenched to the roots with rainwater, and the droplets of water falling from his soft locks are sliding down his neck to where his collarbone is. Plus, the water from the puddles that Bo kicked while running has soaked through his jeans, and now the thick material is sticking to his shins while getting the floor wet at the same time.

"I wouldn't know if you're currently looking at me or not," Bo breaks the silence, causing me to look up at him. As soon as my eyes land on his nearly hair-covered face, I slap my hand over my mouth to avoid laughing out loud. "My procrastination in getting a haircut has finally caught up to me."

This time, I let a giggle slip past my lips before reaching up and pushing his wet locks from his face, only to see his blue eyes once again. Smiling, Bo leans forward and kisses me once more, his lips lingering against mine for a few moments before pulling away with that same smile. "Thanks, babe," He murmurs, moving a hand up to brush my wet hair back as well.

Walking away from me and toward the hall, Bo stops when he reaches the bathroom door and turns toward me with a sly smirk. "Care to join me?" He offers, referring to a shower.

I smile back at him before tossing his clothes from my arm and into the kitchen where my blouse is. "Did you really think I’d say no?" I ask him, walking toward him with my arms crossed.

“Of course not,” he responds, pulling me close as soon as he can. “How could you ever resist me?” Bo cheekily adds, causing me to smirk.

“Do you really wanna know?” I ask, his smile turning into a straight line across his lips.

“We have another shower, you know.��

[itsclydebitches]

YYH Recaps: Episode 1, Surprised to be Dead

Hello, all you hypothetical readers! It's a beautiful spring day and I have a free afternoon ahead of me, so what better time to start another massive project while I guilty stuff my other WIPs deep into the depths of my hard drive? Yeah. Iffy life choices aside, someone mentioned a few weeks back that they'd love for me to recap a show I have more positive things to say about than negative (RIP RWBY) and ever since Netflix announced that their live-action adaptation of Yu Yu Hakusho is in the works, I've been itching for a re-watch of the anime. With the RWBY hiatus underway, it seemed like the perfect time to fulfill both desires.

Before we begin though, I'd like to touch on a few things that are going to influence this project.

First, YYH is near and dear to my heart. Written by Yoshihiro Togashi in the early 1990s and later adapted for an American audience by Funimation, I had the pleasure of experiencing this story five different ways: as a serialized tale in Shonen Jump, a binge read when I had the money to buy the manga, tiny snippets of the anime on Adult Swim late at night — don't tell my parents ;) — as an after-school treat on Toonami, and then years later as a re-watch when I introduced it to a friend (who, in turn, blessed me by having us watch Fullmetal Alchemist next). I used to keep a Hiei bookmark in everything I was reading, the spirit gun made it into our witch-wolf-space adventures on the playground (middle school was wild), and there was a long period of my life where I tried very hard to teach myself to stand with my hands behind my back, precisely as Genkai does. Spoiler alert: I failed. So to say I love the series is... a little bit of an understatement. I bring this up simply as a way of demonstrating that there's more than a bit of nostalgia attached to YYH for me and that will inevitably cloud my reading of it. How can it not? So that's just something to keep in mind as I work through a series that, like any having hit its 30th birthday, has its outdated, flawed, and other questionable aspects.

Second, but very much connected to the first point, is that these are pretty casual recaps. I summarize and extrapolate, focusing primarily on plot and dialogue (but with the occasional cinematography aspect tossed in). I'm not conducting research on the cultural history here — something that will come up at least once in this episode — I'm not arguing an overarching thesis, and I've never been someone who focuses on the author/production/trivia of a series. I'm here for the story as the story is presented to the viewer. If you've read my RWBY Recaps, this will function precisely the same way, with the only difference being I'm engaging with a finished text as opposed to an ongoing one, so there’s a lot less, “Maybe ___ will happen” theorizing going on. 

Third, I obviously recommend that you watch the show yourself (you can find it on YouTube!), but you don't have to know the series to follow along. As these massive paragraphs attest, I tend to be both detailed and verbose, so we'll be covering every major plot point — and most of the smaller ones too.

Finally, I'm working from the dub. I know, I know, the horror. But it's what I grew up on and, honestly, I think it's superior to the sub. YYH's dubbing is in a class all its own and to this day there are very few shows that compare to it. Trust me, it's a good call.

That's enough of the boring chit-chat though. Let's get started!

Our very first episode "Surprised to be Dead" opens on a crowded street. We see lots of traffic, people going about their business, and a pedestrian crossing sign that, crucially, turns red. This is our normality and, like in every genre story, you need to break that normality at some point so that the protagonists can go on their fantastical/supernatural/science fiction journey. YYH eases us into things by first breaking the normality of an everyday afternoon: there's a screech of tires, quick shots of a man pushing a child out of the way of an oncoming car, and then his back is hitting the windshield. We begin this story with a horrible — but otherwise mundane — car crash.

Now, these flashes alone have a fair bit to unpack. Despite later getting a brief shot of the man's scared face right before he's hit, the moment's focus is really on the child. He's the one foregrounded in the initial, slow-mo shot. He's the one who appears in color while the man is kept in shadow. This isn't just a hit, it's a rescue. The camera is also careful to follow the soccer ball this kid was playing with (more on that later in the episode), with it flying through the air as the man is hit and bouncing to a stop in the street, acting as the dramatic finish. It's childhood! It's innocence! It's play on a sunny afternoon! And it's all gone wrong.

This moment is chaotic and even a bit confusing. Not in the sense of what's happening — that is quite obviously a guy being hit by a car — but who the victims are, how precisely this came about, or even why we're meant to care about this beyond a generic capacity to feel for other human (fictional) beings... that's all removed. And it works. As the crash takes place, the camera pans across the stunned crowd and we, the viewer, become a part of that crowd. They don't know what precisely is going on either. We're all just horrified onlookers as a sudden tragedy takes place. We're all watching the same show.

So everyone realizes this guy has been hit. People are staring in shock and someone calls for an ambulance. We see the driver fall to his knees in the street, distraught, shakily saying, "I didn't mean to..." It's a very serious and emotional scene that —

— is immediately tempered by this guy waking up, complete with a cute 'pop!' sound effect when he opens his eyes.

This is YYH's brand, this Very Serious Circumstances skillfully interwoven with casual indifference/comedy. It's admittedly far from a unique brand, but it's an excellent choice given that this is the same attitude that will drive 99% of our protagonist's interaction with the world.

Speaking of said protagonist, our guy wakes up, opens his eyes, and realizes that he's floating. There's a great, disorientating shot from his perspective where everything is upside down, causing him to nearly fall out of the air. Well would you look at that, he's as confused as we are. It's our audience surrogate!

A narrator says, "And so it all begins. This boy's name is Yusuke, he's fourteen years old, and he's supposed to be the hero of this story. But oddly enough, he's dead."

Game of Thrones might have made it popular, but YYH did it better.

(Yeah, yeah, I know one death kick-starts the journey and the other is a shocking twist. Just let me have this.)

Now, it's a weird introduction, right? At least at the end. The announcement that change has occurred, a name, an age... that all checks out. But "supposed to be the hero"? What the hell is that “supposed to” mean? Our narrator gives us the easy, surface answer: "But oddly enough, he's dead." We're capitalizing here on the audience's expectation that death ends a character's journey and though they may have been a hero previously, they can no longer be one moving forward. That function within the story has passed. So it's this intriguing question of, "What kind of hero do you have when that hero is dead from the start?" but as we'll see soon, there's an additional meaning here of, "How can Yusuke be the hero?" As this premiere sets up, Yusuke doesn't act like the hero is “supposed to” act. 

Until he saved this kid.

But right now he's just confused: "Okay, this is weird. Stupid weird."

Two EMTs arrive on the scene and are hilariously useless. You know how in any medical drama a doctor will stop CPR after a couple of seconds because obviously you're not going to spend half the episode on realism? Well, that's this only a thousand times worse. One guy just looks at the kid and announces he's fine except for some bumps and bruises. Meanwhile, the kid is sobbing.

"Well, at least one of them is," replies the other EMT, because I guess he can tell Yusuke is beyond hope without taking a pulse or anything? "I hate cleanup," he complains as they load his body onto a stretcher because that's? An empathetic response to have??

Honestly this scene is wild.

Yusuke is understandably upset that he's, you know, dead and all. He starts hounding the EMTs who, unable to hear him, just go about their business of taking the kid and his body to the hospital. "You think you can just do whatever you want because you have that stupid uniform on? You can't just write me off. Listen to me!" and Yusuke tries to punch one of the EMTs in the head, resulting in him floating right through.

What a great way to introduce your protagonist's personality. We see here that when things go wrong Yusuke's default emotion is anger and it starts creeping in even before he thinks the others are ignoring him: "Stupid weird." He has problems with authority — "You think you can just do whatever you want because you have that stupid uniform on?" — is used to others listening when he gets angry — "You can't just write me off!" — and is poised to use violence at the slightest provocation. Yusuke is a guy who, right now at least, is ready to punch first and ask questions later.

As Yusuke floats back up into the air and the ambulance drives away, he finally cools down enough to try and think his way out of this. "It's not like this is the first time you've been in a jam,” he thinks. Yusuke recalls that yeah, something was different about today...

...he actually went to school.

Catch me laughing that this idiot boy equates the weirdness of him dying with going to school. Good lord. 

Anyway, this jumpstarts our flashback. We open on a generic, anime middle school (that always feels like a high school to me) where the principal is calling for Yusuke through the loud speaker. Oooo someone’s in trouble! We follow a young girl up to the rooftop and she gets a classic hair-blowing-in-the-wind moment to  establish that she's our love interest. Meet Keiko Yukimura.

Keiko finds Yusuke hanging out and immediately starts lecturing him for trying to chew gum and refusing to wear the boys' uniform. "Oh, give me a break, Keiko. I look better in green." Note that it's here we learn her name and it's an easy, casual way to introduce it. I bring this up because Yusuke's introduction via our narrator is very much... not that. It's an on your nose statement about his name, age, and importance to the story, and if you're just starting the show in 2021, it might come across as a rather armature move. Like something out of a kid's show, perhaps. Yet here we see that this was a deliberate choice, considering that YYH is capable of introducing character information naturally when it wants to.

This moment also tells us that Yusuke cares a great deal about his image. More on that in a bit. Because Keiko isn't finished her list of grievances yet, going on to say that his attendance record has hurt their entire class, hurt her as class representative, and if he keeps going down this path he won't even graduate middle school. "Sometimes I think you don't care about anyone but yourself and then you don't even do that right!"

They're legit complaints. Too bad Yusuke is busy looking up Keiko's skirt.

Yeeeeah. Sadly, this is common for anime, particularly a 90s anime like YYH. Even presumably more progressive series like My Hero Academia feature characters like Mineta, whose entire personality is being a pervert, and the creation of abilities that "require" kids/young women to be scantily clad. See: Yaoyorozu. YYH is no different in this regard, with various forms of sexual harassment functioning as a shorthand for how much Yusuke secretly likes Keiko. "Boys will be boys," right? Obviously not. 

Like so many others series, the creators get away with it because they’re framing it as a bad thing. It's totally fine because look, Keiko slaps him! This is  teaching the viewer how wrong this behavior is. Never mind that this is clearly an established habit between them, that Yusuke laughs off Keiko's discomfort, and that the whole scene is meant to be funny for the viewer. That's the real purpose here; it’s not a PSA on harassment. 

That, and to establish the long-suffering love Keiko has for Yusuke in turn, largely stemming from a life-long friendship. "Dumb boy! He hasn't grown up a bit since he was four years old." We see that Keiko's early interactions with Yusuke have given her insight that others lack. As she heads down from the roof she runs into two girls hiding around the corner, too scared to come out lest "the great Urameshi" set his sights on them. Isn't Keiko terrified of what he might do to her? "Or worse, what others might say of it?" Like any classic high school middle school setting, one's reputation is king. Yusuke cares about how others see him — maintaining that tough boy attitude — and the girls care more about what the rest of the school might think of Keiko's interactions with him than the presumed harm Yusuke could do to her. They heard he can summon 2,000 men with just a whistle and that he "kills for fun!" But that means nothing in the face of people talking about you. Despite being one of the most popular girls in school, Keiko is the outsider here via her disinterest in what other people think.

The animation changes here, giving us a good look at how the girls picture Yusuke: tough, scowling, surrounded by shadows, and backed by an entire army.

In contrast, we've already seen what Yusuke is really like.

Keiko laughs the image off too. Yusuke is more like a "lamb" than a killer and besides, he couldn't order around two people, let alone two hundred. "He doesn't have many friends."

"That's not what I heard," says one of the girls. 

"Yeah," goes the other. "I think we would know." 

Again, rumors rule here, with whispers in the hall considered more reliable than someone who interacts with Yusuke on a daily basis. Keiko doesn’t have a hope of changing their minds. 

Oh, as a side note, I love that they gave Keiko Miyazaki-esque hair. It's very emotive.

Yusuke escapes outside where the principal is still calling for him to report to his office. He overhears a conversation around the corner and we cut to two boys, one of which is showing a wallet off to the other. He explains that some bully tried to rough him up, but he said he was Urameshi's cousin and the bully took off, dropping his wallet in the process. The guy's friend is impressed, but what is he going to do if Yusuke ever finds out he lied? Not to worry, he says, that "blockhead" would probably think it's true even if he did somehow hear.

Yusuke, obviously, does hear about this and he, also obviously, does not believe this guy is his cousin. He looms ominously and they scurry up against a wall, terrified and offering him the wallet as an apology.

"You think I want your money?" Yusuke yells.

YYH is, in many respects, a rather simple story, but I appreciate the hints of complexity in these otherwise straightforward interactions. It's not that this guy used Yusuke's name to steal a wallet, he used it as a form of protection against another bully — a far more sympathetic motivation. It's not that Yusuke's fearsome reputation has resulted in any genuine respect because once people think they're safe they reveal how little they think of his intelligence — he's a "blockhead." And Yusuke, though intimidating and violent, is not your average, schoolyard bully. He doesn't care about money, only the insult and the damage this guy using his name might have done to his reputation. There's a little more nuance here than you might otherwise expect.

Also, note how dark the boys' standard uniforms are and how much they blend into the rest of the world. Yusuke, as our protagonist, stands out in his bright clothing. He was right, he does look better in green!

So he's ready to clobber this kid when one of the teachers arrive: Mr. Iwamoto.

Iwamoto demands to know what's going on, but the boys are too terrified to rat Yusuke out. Noticing the wallet on the ground, he assumes that Yusuke was after their money, something that greatly offends him: "Whatever!" Iwamoto goes on to say that, "No good weeds like you should have been plucked a long time ago," making it clear that he considers Yusuke a hopeless case. The positive aspects that Keiko sees, as well as the complexity the viewer sees — to say nothing of his introduction of saving a kid — aren’t considered here.

Notably, Iwamoto exists in part to show us what Yusuke could become. Not a teacher (he's obviously not attending school enough for that!), but a cynical man who is cruel for cruelty's sake. Yusuke is already barreling down that path, ignoring Keiko's advice, terrorizing other students, trying to punch EMTs, etc. If his life (or afterlife...) hadn't changed through that accident, this is the kind of person Yusuke might have grown up to be, and we can see that clearly in the visual parallels between them. Dark haired men dressed in green who scowl with ease and toss out cutting insults. Yusuke is staring his future in the face.

For now he walks off with a final shot, "You shouldn't talk. It makes you sound stupid." This time Yusuke makes it to the school's entrance and tries to enjoy his second attempt at chewing gum, but someone hits him in the back of the head.

"Okay, somebody's DEAD — ah. Sorry, old man."

"That's Mr. Takenaka to you."

Our principal has finally left the office and hunted down Yusuke for himself! Putting this interaction immediately after the one with Iwamoto allows the viewer to compare them. Yusuke might be irreverent towards his principal, but it's clear there's still some kind of respect between them. Yusuke only starts threatening because he doesn’t realize who hit him and once he does realize it's Takenaka, he immediately apologizes. That "old man" comes across as a teasing insult and Yusuke allows himself to be briefly dragged back towards school, rather than throwing a now classic punch. In turn, Takenaka cares enough about Yusuke to try and keep him on the straight and narrow. He utilizes Yusuke's preferred language — violence — but in a casual way, nonthreatening way: slight hit to the back of his head, noogie, pulling him along by the ear. 

It's the sort of physicality we're used to seeing in media between a parent and child who are outwardly antagonistic, but actually share a deep bond. Takenaka is also careful to frame their return to his office as a "discussion," not a punishment, and offers Yusuke tea along with the conversation. Whereas Iwamoto considers Yusuke to be a "weed" that should have been plucked from their school long ago, Takenaka is determined to help Yusuke bloom.

If we're continuing the flower metaphor :D

Yusuke isn't in the mood to play along though. He gets away by using a fake ear, startling Takenaka when it unexpectedly pulls free. Yusuke escapes the school grounds and Takenaka, suffering a back twinge from his fall, can't chase after him. Poor guy. I understand that pain lol.

Yusuke heads home where we're introduced to his mother, Atsuko. Most notable in her first shot is the soft lighting that highlights her looks. We're not told how old she is here, but I believe she's around 28 — and she looks it, if not younger. Given that Yusuke is 14, that means Atsuko was a mom at his age. This is a quick and subtle way to tell us about Yusuke's home life. There are more overt details in this scene — it's at least lunchtime and Atsuko hasn't left her bed yet, she demands that Yusuke make her coffee instead of greeting him, it's all meant to imply (before we actually see) that she's an alcoholic — but her age is another way to highlight the broken household here. There's no partner in sight and she clearly had Yusuke as a teenager. He hasn't had a strong parental figure to take care of him. If anything, Yusuke is taking care of Atsuko here.

"Oh great, mother of the year!" basically sums things up.

Atsuko wants to know why Yusuke isn't in school and he says that everyone is pissing him off today, particularly with their preaching. "Dear, if you hate preaching so much you should live on your own... but you can't do that, can you?" Alongside a rough upbringing, Yusuke is suffering from the common problem of being trapped in a dead-end life. He hates his school, his town, and coming home to find his mom hungover. Yusuke has no prospects and, outside of one principal, no one who is actively working to help him find some. Even the little things he hates, like being preached to, are unavoidable because if you want to live on your own, that requires money. Good luck pulling that off as a middle schooler whose only skill is street fighting!

Yusuke walks off in a huff, literally shouting in a street about what a bad day he's having (and hilariously scaring off pedestrians in the process). His shout brings trouble though. A couple guys appear to ambush him, their boss close behind. The music increases the tension, Yusuke's expression is serious, and we even get a Dutch angle thrown into the mix. 

For any who don't know, the Dutch angle is a popular film technique to establish that something is wrong. There's tension in the scene, something uneasy is at play, and the world is now literally off center. It's perhaps most famously used in Do The Right Thing to establish the friction between an Italian-American pizzeria and the predominantly African American neighborhood it's based in.

But it's also used a great deal in horror as a way to say: yup, shit just got real. Scary real.

This Dutch angle introduces a character you may not appreciate at first, but absolutely should: Kazuma Kuwabara.

He's initially the comic relief and that's clear in his introduction. Within seconds we move from that intimidating arrival to, well, seeing him. To be clear, I've got nothing against redheads with big chins, but compared to Yusuke's design, Kuwabara is meant to be the funny looking one. His threat level plummets the moment we get a look at his face, especially in a series that will occasionally use looks as a (supposed) measure of intelligence. 

Also, Kuwabara is dressed in light blue so, like Yusuke, we know he's important!

Any assumptions that his appearance isn’t meant to imply a goofy, embarrassing personality are put to rest when Kuwabara starts rambling about how they last time they fought Yusuke just got a cheap shot in and he'll definitely win this time. Yeah, he won't. Yusuke is thrilled by this diversion though and we get a shot of him looking almost as creepy as Keiko's friends think he is. Whatever else might be said about Yusuke, he is absolutely a monster in a fight.

Which we see here. If anyone picked up the series without knowing this was a fighting anime, they'll realize it now. Yusuke's choreography is stylized to show off his skill: he disappears with a 'whoosh' and dark lines to suggest inhuman speed,

attacking Kuwabara with a knee to the face, utilizes flying kicks, lands perfect, precision punches, and ends it all with the toe-tip landing we've come to expect of all powerful fighters. Kuwabara never even got a hit in. 

Happy as a clam now, Yusuke wanders off whistling and Kuwabara's friends are left to pick up the pieces. AKA, his likely broken bones. I love that they're legit friends though and not just nameless goons for the sake of giving Kuwabara a small gang (though their names won't come up until later). "That makes 0 wins an 156 loses!" one of them cries, trying to get Kuwabara to stop ending up in the hospital, probably. We establish that Kuwabara is The Most Dramatic Ever when he pulls his broken body into a seated position, shouting, "No! I almost had him that time!"

Then he passes out.

Kuwabara, honey, you obviously did not almost have him, but god bless you for the outlook. The most optimistic thing on this Earth is a well-loved Golden Retriever, but Kuwabara comes in at a very close second.

With his dream to one day beat Yusuke in combat established, we cut to Yusuke wandering the street where the episode opened. "Okay, I'm remembering" he says in a voiceover. "After that I met the kid."

The soccer ball reappears as it rolls to a stop at Yusuke's feet. He grabs it and immediately starts yelling at the kid. Horrible protagonist, right? Well, Yusuke is trying to instill in him the danger of using this street as a playground, a worry the viewer already knows is 100% justified. “Listen, kid, that’s dangerous! There are cars going by that will splatter you into the pavement!” It's one of those quick moments where we get to enjoy Yusuke's duality: he's someone who is nearly making a toddler cry, but for rather understandable reasons. He's got the right idea, but needs to go about it in a more mature manner.

Which is precisely what he attempts to do. Sort of. Yusuke changes gears, though whether it's a more "mature" route is certainly up for debate lol. He tries entertaining the kid instead, raising and lowering the soccer ball to reveal goofy faces.

When these fail to impress, Yusuke goes full out by stuffing the ball into his pants, pushing his nose up with a pair of chopsticks he got from god knows where, and generally just putting on a display.

So Yusuke cares very deeply about his reputation... but only when it comes to those who are an established part of his life. Keiko, Mr. Takenaka, and the other kids at school all need to maintain a particular image of Yusuke, one that he's carefully cultivated. But random pedestrians on the street? Who cares about them? Let them talk.

This shows us that Yusuke does indeed have priorities over his own, selfish goals. Namely, the happiness of some kid is more important to him than looking "cool" for a bunch of strangers. Lots of characters with Yusuke's surface attitude would sneer at the idea of degrading themselves for — their words — some brat. But Yusuke, as we constantly see, actually does have that heart of gold. “Well, if all else fails I can still make kids happy.”

Although... I'm not sure what to make of his display itself. I have the distinct sense that there's something prejudiced here that I'm not able to fully articulate, what with the chopsticks, slanted eyes, bald head, and the like, though to be entirely frank I don't have enough knowledge of Japan's history to say precisely what it might be. Or, really, whether it exists at all. Just something to chew on.

What I am sure about though is the importance of having the child label Yusuke as monster — "Yeah, monster! — but in a delighted manner. Yusuke is indeed some kind a monster, someone who disappoints adults and terrifies his classmates, a demon fighter on the streets too, but here that identity is reworked into something positive.

Having successful secured a laugh, Yusuke tells the kid — calmly this time — to go play elsewhere. The toddler stares up at him with the blank expression only kids can manage.

Well, kids and whatever headspace I'm in after writing these metas.

To absolutely no one's surprise except Yusuke's, the kid does not go elsewhere. Instead, he continues kicking the ball down the street, causing Yusuke to exclaim, “Dammit, what’s the use? The kid can get smashed by a car for all I care!” Liar, liar. 

The picture becomes desaturated as the kid kicks the ball and it flies into the street, time slowing down to show it landing precisely in the middle of the road. Yusuke again yells for him to stay put, but when has a toddler ever listened? He begins to walk into the road as our driver arrives, speeding, swerving, and paying more attention to the girl at his side than what's in front of him.

This time, we see the accident from the front with both Yusuke and the kid presented equally.

There's a cut to black and when we return we're in the present, Yusuke floating above the policemen now investigating the scene. “So that’s it? I’m roadkill?” As Yusuke realizes he's dead, specifically that he's a ghost, a voice goes,

"Bingo! Bingo! You win the prize!"

A woman has appeared who is quite obviously othered by the standards of the episode so far. Unlike the greens, blues, and browns of the series' modern clothes, she's dressed in hot pink kimono with blue hair to match. She's also, you know, floating on an oar.

“I didn’t expect you to figure it out so quickly," she says, referring to Yusuke's revelation that he's dead. Apparently, those who meet unexpected and/or violent ends tend to take some time coming to terms with their demise. It's a nice acknowledgment of Yusuke's intelligence in an interaction that's otherwise... not great for his self-esteem.

Meaning, this woman is about to drag him lol.

She introduces herself as Botan, pilot of the River Styx and guider of souls to the afterlife. You might also know her as the Grim Reaper.

(Hey, RWBY fans: I originally wrote that as Grimm Reaper 🤦‍♀️)

It's an claim Yusuke takes issue with because 1. Botan is too pretty to be the Grim Reaper and 2. If she was really some god of death she'd be taking this much more seriously, not laughing and saying, "Bingo!" For the audience this does two things. First, it acknowledges our own expectations and validates them. Yusuke's world isn't so far removed from our own that he takes Botan's looks and personality at face value, he also expected a skeleton with a scythe. So don't worry, all the weird stuff in this series is weird to our protagonist too. They'll be explanations. Or, even if there’s not, you’re not wrong for being surprised. 

Second, it sets up the very common theme in YYH of undermining those common assumptions again and again and again. We've already seen it with Yusuke, wherein characters who look and act a certain way are, supposedly, destined to be that person and nothing more. Yusuke is meant to be just a "weed," a dumb, violent, angry loser who goes nowhere in life... but we already know he's more than that. Botan is supposed to be scary and serious, but she says nah, I want to be cute and bubbly instead. No character in YYH embodies who they're "supposed" to be when you look past those surface characterizations. They play the part of archetypes — and do keep certain parts of their expected personalities — but they're also far more well-rounded than that. Which yeah, is something most people expect from any story nowadays, but YYH is particularly adept at making you think you're watching Simple Show A only to turn around and surprise you with More Complex Show B.

It's great, trust me.

So Yusuke is pissed that Botan isn't adhering to those expectations, in the same way that he works hard to validate others expectations of him. He doesn't know how to deal with someone challenging his world view yet. Rather than angering Botan though, she just nods and says that this response makes sense for him. “Rather than being scared, or surprised, you yell a lot and tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about." Taking out a notebook, she quickly summarizes everything we learned in the flashback — minus Yusuke's complexities: he's fourteen, in middle school, is ill-tempered, violent, hates authority, and is a horrible student.

Typically, Yusuke responds by getting angry and trying to snatch the booklet out of her hands, only for Botan to pull it out of his reach, laughing. The tables have turned! Rather than being surrounded by people who cower at Yusuke's imposed authority, he now finds himself faced with someone who laughs at his transparent attempts to take control of the situation.

Calming down, Yusuke wants to know if the kid he saved is really alright and Botan offers to let him see for himself. That offer produces Yusuke's first, genuine smile.

They fly to the hospital where a doctor is in the process of giving the kid a clean bill of health, his mother crying with relief. 

That's enough for Yusuke. “Alright, Botan, I’ve got no regrets, so you can take me to hell or wherever it is I’m going.”

That tells you all you need to know about Yusuke's self-worth, despite his bad boy attitude. His life is a dead-end as far as he can see and most of those around him haven't done anything to dissuade him of that idea. He says he doesn't care if the kid lives or dies, but then instinctively saves him. Post his death, Yusuke doesn't have anything he considers a regret, or anything he'd like to do before he leaves, like saying goodbye to a loved one. Oh, he's also pretty sure he's going to hell and has resigned himself to that without a fight.

Uplifting!

Botan just laughs though, saying that she's actually here to offer Yusuke an "ordeal" that could bring him back to life. See, he wasn't supposed to die today — let alone die saving a kid — and frankly they don't know what to do with him. It's another neat summary of what we've already learned: Yusuke is a far more complicated case than the afterlife assumed and now, when push comes to shove, deciding whether he belongs in heaven or hell is... muddled.

There's a fantastic story there about the problems with an afterlife that reduces a person's entire life to a few surface characteristics recorded in a book, refusing to acknowledge the context of their situation, or their capacity for change. “Run someone with your credentials a thousand times and they never would have saved a kid like that." Except, of course, Yusuke did save him, so those "credentials" are suspect, to say the least. However, YYH is not a story that explores these issues. Instead, I recommend you watch this!

Rather than being upset at the afterlife's low opinion of him (because let's be real, Yusuke shares it), he latches onto a little detail Botan let slip. If he wasn't supposed to die today... then was the kid?

Mmm... no. Actually, without the chaos of Yusuke jumping into the road, the driver would have swerved at the last second and the kid would have not only lived, but actually come out with one less scrape.

So Yusuke is obviously upset by this news! I would be too!! Holy shit, hang onto the "it's the thought that counts" message with everything you've got.

Also, don't think too much about the fact that the afterlife apparently knows exactly what will happen to people, down to how many cuts they accumulate in an accident. Also, don't think too much about where the afterlife foreseeing the crash begins and the unexpectedness of Yusuke interfering ends. That way lies madness. This will never come up again, so just let it go.

Sorry, 2013 me hijacked the post for a second.

As said, Yusuke is understandably upset by this revelation and as he fumes I'm reminded that this series likes to pull some amazing expressions.

Botan reiterates that it's all fine because Yusuke can come back to life. Weren't you listening? He should feel honored, in fact, considering that an offer like this only arrives every 100 years or so. Well, that explains why all of humanity isn't grappling with people coming back to life on the daily. One person every generation isn't going to cause much of a stir.

However, instead of jumping at the chance Yusuke announces that Botan is just like the teachers at school: she doesn't know what she's talking about. “You said yourself my life was kind of pathetic, right?” he says, going on to explain that everyone will be happier now that he's dead. His school won't have to deal with his behavior, Keiko won't have to nag him, and his mom will be able to party whenever she wants. It's a win-win for everyone involved. 

Hmm, this feels familiar. 

Don't worry, Yusuke doesn't need to experience a whole alternate reality to get the message.

“I’m sorry you feel that way at such an early age," Botan says and she is sorry, because despite her teasing nature that's a legitimately horrifying thing to believe. Yusuke won't budge though and after a little back-and-forth Botan leaves, telling Yusuke he should think it over while visiting his wake. She'll come back once he decides what to do.

“Do you have worms in your ears, lady? I did decide!” but Botan is long gone.

We cut to that night where Yusuke has indeed decided to attend his own wake. Maybe because of Botan's advice, maybe because he's just morbidly curious. We’re not given insight into the decision. 

Atsuko is a mess, to put it mildly, not dressed for the occasion and sitting slumped against the way, staring vacantly as the guests offer their condolences. Yusuke is surprised by the fact that his entire class is here, but quickly writes them off when he sees two of the boys laughing. I'm on the fence about this detail, which I'll unpack in just a second.

First though, Yusuke sees Keiko exiting the house, inconsolable in her grief. She collapses on the ground with her two friends trying to offer comfort, despite the fact that they had nothing good to say about Yusuke himself. Good on them.

Before he can think too long on this though, Yusuke is distracted by Kuwabara's arrival. Unlike Keiko's crying, he expresses his grief through yelling. Specifically, yelling at Yusuke. For dying. For daring to "run away." His own friends are physically holding him back as he charges into the wake, screaming, “Who am I gonna fight now, huh? Who am I gonna fight?" It's not really about the fighting, of course. At least, not the fighting alone. "You’re supposed to be here for me," Kuwabara finishes, the punch he's thrown at Yusuke's photo going limp and catching his first tear.

You know, for all the  goofy expressions, this show really is gorgeous. Just wait until we get to the fight animations.

Kuwabara's reaction is why I hesitate to write off the classmates like Yusuke has. Granted, we have no reason to believe that they care for him as Kuwabara does — they're nameless background characters defined only by their terror of "the great Urameshi" — but it's still a split second taken out of context. We don't know what they were laughing at, or if laughing is a part of their grief. God knows I personally laugh at the most inappropriate moments. If you tell me someone has just died there is a very good chance I will laugh awkwardly as I try to process that. It’s just a reflex. All of which I bring up not because these side characters are important, but because Yusuke's perception of his own worth is. The point of each of these moments is to show that those around him have always cared for him, even if Yusuke didn't notice. It's nice to think that extends to his classmates too. The variety likewise exists to show us how people grieve differently, with Kuwabara's friends not understanding that this is how he's working through the trauma: “This place is for mourning!” He is mourning, even if his way of mourning isn't as socially acceptable as Keiko's. So if screaming and throwing punches is valid, crying is valid, staring stoically in a drunk stupor is valid... why not laughter too?

Not likely, perhaps, but possible.

As an additional possibility to chew on, watching this premier again, it struck me how more emotional Kuwabara's scene is compared to Keiko's. Don't get me wrong, crying and calling Yusuke’s name gets the point across, but it's two seconds of generic grief compared to a much longer scene rife with intensity. When Kuwabara arrives the music swells and everyone is forced to pay attention to him. His grief is loud, violent, and given symbolism with his fist and the photo. There's more effort put into his reaction, frankly, so it wouldn't surprise me if fans started shipping them after this. That grief combined with an "enemies to lovers" possibility is a pretty potent mix. To be clear, Yusuke/Keiko is the (oh so obvious) canonical endgame and in the fandom Yusuke/Kuwabara can't compare to another slash ship that will turn up later, but this is a good example of how writers can craft some Very Gay Scenes without realizing it. When you have the girl crying prettily for a second and the guy absolutely losing his mind over Yusuke's death, questioning his purpose now, his support network, and then collapsing in grief... don't be surprised if your audience goes, "Oh hey, maybe they'd be a good couple instead."

But I digress.

The only people who are unquestioningly happy about Yusuke's passing are Mr. Iwamoto and his co-conspirator, Mr. Akashi. You know Akashi is another bad guy because he has bucked teeth and "ugliness" is an easy way to code for evilness. YYH is not immune to those mistakes :/

These two are really something else though, standing in the middle of a wake and claiming it's “too bad that car wasn’t big enough for them too," referring to Kuwabara and his friends. Wow! What stellar members of the academic community. Iwamoto goes on to say that Yusuke dying at least accomplished something good. Not, mind you, saving the life of a child, but rather looking good for their school's reputation. Akashi agrees, but says it's likely Yusuke only accidentally saved him while trying to steal the kid's lunch money. Remember, that accusation of theft is the one thing Yusuke has said outright that he does not do.

He's pissed listening to all this — wouldn't you be? — but knows by now he can't do anything about it. In another fantastic shot, Yusuke hovers his hand over Iwamoto's shoulder, desperate to grab him, when Takenaka's arrives there instead.

“What do you suppose is more disgraceful? That boy showing his misery, or your insensitive and idiotic words!”

HELL YEAH. You tell 'em, Mr. Takenaka.

Yusuke gets his third shock of the night at this passionate defense. Takenaka leaves the teachers to go pay his respects, but admits to Yusuke's picture that he just can't speak well of him. He was surprised to hear that Yusuke gave up his life for another and it's a fact that he acted selfishly. Though he doesn't say it in as many words, Takenaka explains that he's not grieving because Yusuke was a good person, but because it's so clear to him that he might have been. “Why didn’t you stay? You could have made something great out of yourself.”

Normally, "Why didn't you stay?" is just something for the living to grapple with, as the dead obviously don't have any say in what happens to them. But Yusuke does. It's here that the lighting grows soft again and Yusuke considers Takenaka's words. Keiko and Kuwabara grieve for who he was, but Takenaka grieves for who Yusuke could have been — someone that might still exist if Yusuke decides to undergo this ordeal.

Atsuko adds fuel to the emotional fire, breaking down and hiding her face in her knees.

Finally, the kid Yusuke saved arrives with his mother. Because yes, Yusuke saved him in every way that matters, considering no one else knows — or will know — that he'd have lived anyway. I like that the show doesn't allow that knowledge to undermine the emotion of their arrival, or what Yusuke’s act meant to them. 

The mom tells her son to pay his respects and the kid thanks Yusuke for saving him, and for "making faces." He clearly doesn't get what's going on here. This is confirmed as the two leave and he asks his mom if he can play with Yusuke again tomorrow. “I know some people sounded angry at him, but he’s really nice!" 

They're probably just crying because they want to play with him too, he thinks, which just makes his mom join in. Everyone is crying in this club tonight.

Those words are the cincher for Yusuke and with a brief montage of all the grief he's witnessed, he makes his decision.

We cut to later that night where Yusuke floats above the city, admiring the moon. Botan reappears and he asks, “Have you ever not known about something that seemed obvious to everyone else?” Yes, everyone has experienced that at one point or another. She asks if he's made his decision and Yusuke agrees to try and come back to life.

Emotional revelations out of the way, we're allowed another tone shift as Botan yells with joy, speeding off and causing Yusuke to grab hold of the end of her oar, lest he be left behind. Cranky as always, he demands to know where they're going. "To the spirit world, of course!" They're off to see someone who can explain the ordeal and give Yusuke the tool needed to complete it. Just hang on and enjoy the ride.

Thus ends our very first episode! Ah, the nostalgia. This is part one of a four arc series, with the anime cutting out a lot of the filler stories found at the start of the manga — a smart decision, I think. They primarily do the work of teaching Yusuke what he learned at the wake, so if you can accomplish that as quickly as the adaptation did, all the better. Especially since Yusuke needs to grow a great deal beyond the basic understanding that people might, sort of care for him, and that work will occur primarily through a job he's going to take on. The series isn't really about his death and it's not about an attempt to come back either — it's about what happens once you get that second chance. So this is the setup, but it's important setup all the same.

No need to skip ahead though. I've blathered enough for one recap. I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you when the writing gods next bless me with energy! 💜

[blrinjapan]

Akemashite Omedetou Gozaimasu!

New Years in Japan is an absolutely magical time of year, when the whole country shuts down and enters a period of reflection and celebration as one year ends and a new one begins. Businesses close, people travel to their hometowns to spend time with their parents and extended family, and family traditions bridge the Japanese culture of today back across the generations. 

On New Years Eve, the celebrations begin. Many Japanese families will stay up until midnight, eating New Years Soba (toshikoshi soba) and mikan oranges, while watching annual competition shows such as the Red and White Song Battle! (Kouhaku Uta Gassen) or the annual Punishment Game comedy show (batsu game). Shortly before midnight, however, the shows conclude, and NHK presents footage of shrines and temples all over Japan, waiting for the midnight ceremonies. At Buddhist temples, the large temple bell is rung 108 times, once for each of the worldly desires central to Buddhism. 

[pictured below: the inner courtyard of a Buddhist temple. A tree in the center is still showing the oranges and reds of autumn, and traditional Japanese buildings surround the tree.]

On New Years Day, families celebrate by eating traditional symbolic foods, much like they do in the rest of the world. In Virginia, for example, my family eats black eyed peas, collard greens, cornbread, and ham, and each item has a specific symbolism for the new year. Japan is much the same-- each item of the New Year’s Meal (Osechi Ryouri) is symbolic of things like longevity, luck, good relationships, and prosperity.  

The house is decorated with traditional plant decorations meant to bring good luck, harmony, and safety over the coming year. Often included are items like pine and bamboo (kadomatsu), straw ropes (shimenawa and shimekazari), and special sacred rice cakes (kagamimochi). These decorations are placed around the home, with rituals that define when and where they are placed, as well as when and how they are removed.

[pictured below: A small kagamimochi decoration, consisting of two stacked mochi rice cakes and a small figure of a cow on top symbolizing 2021, year of the ox]

Afterwards, usually on New Years Day (but often on the 2nd or 3rd of January), the traditional first shrine visit (hatsumode) is performed. These three days are some of the busiest days of the year for the Shinto Shrines in Japan, as visitors come to pray for the new year, return their old charms and amulets (omamori) from the prior year for disposal, and receive their fortunes for the oncoming year.

[pictured below: The entrance to a Shinto shrine. A torii gate stands in the center with snowy stone lanterns at its base, and snow-covered stone steps rising behind it, a bamboo forest on both sides. A family climbs the steps in the background.]

 For my own hatsumode visit, a Japanese friend and I went to Hanyu Gokoku Hachimangu in Oyabe. After climbing approximately eight million stairs, we went to the main shrine building, where I tossed a coin into the offering box and paid my respects to the kami. Then, we moved to the outdoor tents, where I purchased my omamori for 2021. Since my theme for the year is “belonging” (I want to focus on putting in the effort to make a home for myself in Japan), I chose a Sakura blossom charm that will attract good luck and happiness.

[pictured below: two examples of omamori amulets. The amulet on the left is made to look like a miniature pink backpack of the sort that Japanese elemetary school students carry, and is a charm for success in studies and safety in traffic. The amulet on the right is a bedazzled pink sakura blossom, and is a charm for good luck and happiness.]

After purchasing my omamori, I visited the omikuji tent to learn my fortune for 2021. Omikuji fortunes are available year-round, but are a very important New Years tradition, providing guidance for the year ahead. They are pre-printed and piled in a large box, where the recipient draws their fortune from the pile after droppng a donation into the coin box. 

[pictured below: an unopened omikuji fortune]

The contents of an omikuji, of course, cannot be determined before the fortune is opened. Generally, however, the overall fortunes range from extremely bad luck to extremely good luck, with at least twelve degrees of luckiness in between. In addition to your overall fortune, an omikuji will also include your luck pertaining to various categories of life, such as career, love, health, finances, major life events, babies, and more. 

[pictured below: An opened omikuji. This one includes, from left to right, a section of a traditional poem, overall advice, the main fortune (this one is ‘blessing’, which is so-so but not bad luck), then fortunes and advice for different categories of life.]

Once you have read your omikuji, the traditional next step is to tie the fortune at the shrine, to prevent your bad luck from following you home, and to leave your good luck in the hands of the gods. This particular shrine provided a bamboo sapling to tie omikuji onto, which will later be burned along with all of the attached omikuji, to burn away the bad luck and allow the visitors’ wishes to reach the gods. After tying up our omikuji, we headed out of the tent, and on to our next stop.

[pictured below: a branch of bamboo held up in a red stand, with folded omikuji tied in nearly every available spot.]

We were nearly ready to leave the shrine when I spotted a tent of street food. I am always, always down for almost anything if it is on a stick, so we bought ourselves an order of Mitarashi Dango-- grilled mochi balls slathered in soy sauce, and impaled on sticks. This traditional street food is very popular year-round, and was an excellent pick-me-up after climbing (and then descending) all of those steps!

[pictured below: a tray of Mitarashi dango]

Finally, we wrapped up hatsumode and headed home, the new year rituals complete. Now it is time for contemplation and preparation, before the world starts up again on Monday-- and my heated table (kotatsu) is calling my name.

[adenei]

Always a Bridesmaid, Never a Bride - Chapter 4

a/n: Surprise! 2 chapter updates in one weekend? You bet! Enjoy way more Ron in this one (and from here on out!)

Ao3 || FFN

Ron

“So...what made you so desperate to call me?” I asked as the bartender handed us our drinks. Hermione knocked back her gin and tonic so hard that I wondered if I should be concerned.

“I don’t want to talk about it. That’s why I called you,” she responded as she glared at me out of the corner of her eye.

“Ah, so wedding related. Another wedding to plan for? I thought you liked them,” I teased. 

“And I thought you’d make good on your promise not to talk about them, but clearly not. Maybe I should get going—”

“No! I’m sorry. I was only kidding. I’ll stop,” I said quickly as she pretended to get up. At least I hoped she was pretending. 

“Alright, but you’ve already had two strikes. One more and I’m gone,” she warned. 

There was something about her. I don’t know if it was her feisty personality, or the sole fact that she wanted nothing to do with me, but it was driving me crazy.When she called,  I was already starting to think about what ‘plan B to get Hermione to talk to me’ might entail. I was already a week in and no closer on the story I’d promised. Luckily, it didn’t come to that, and I had to thank whoever it was that rubbed her the wrong way on this fine evening.

I watched as she slammed another drink. “Maybe you should slow down a bit,” I suggested as she signaled for another.

“I’ll pay for it if you don’t want to. You did say ‘a drink,’ after all,” she retorted.

My ears grew hot when she brought up money. “It’s not that. I just don’t think you should be drinking away your feelings.”

“Oh? And what do you reckon I should do instead?” she scoffed. 

“Well, talking about the issue is out so, I don’t know. Tell me about yourself instead? Isn’t that what people do on dates?”

I knew that got her attention as she turned to look at me. “Do you not date often?” she asked suspiciously.

“The field I’m in isn’t exactly one that gives me time to date.”

“But you said you’re a writer. Doesn’t your type just write when the inspiration hits?” she questioned.

I snorted at her words. “I’m not a freelance writer. I do have a job with normal working hours, and those hours tend to keep me wrapped up on weekends.”

“Well, forgive me. In my defense, you do give off the freelance vibe,” she said haughtily.

“Okay seriously, what’s got your knickers in a twist? You’re even worse than you were when I helped you get home after that wedding,” 

Something was bothering her, and I wanted to know what it was. She couldn’t be this condescending all the time. I knew she didn’t want to talk about weddings, but there was no way around it if this evening was going to be enjoyable at all.

She sighed as she stirred the ice in her glass with the straw. “My boss just got engaged to one of my good friends.”

I eyed her suspiciously. Something didn’t add up. “Isn’t that supposed to be a good thing?”

“Y-yes, it is! Of course it is! I just have this feeling she’s going to ask me to be the maid of honor, and I’m not sure I have it in me to take on that role.”

I was watching her carefully. There was a sadness underneath the layer of indifference she was trying to give off. I probably should be more sympathetic toward her feelings, but I couldn’t resist what came out of my mouth next.

“Says the woman who was just in two weddings the other weekend. What makes this one different?”

“The pressure that I’ll have to make it perfect. My boss already depends on me for everything at work. Which I don’t mind at all! I love my job! I’ll probably have to end up planning every detail. His fiancée isn’t exactly the type who’s planned out anything for her own wedding.”

“You could always say no…” I reminded her. She looked up and stared blankly at me. “You do know how to say ‘no,’ right?”

I meant it as a joke, but the split second of anguish on her face said it all. “Of course I know how to say no!” she said defensively, but it lacked conviction.

“Nice try, but something tells me that’s not true,” I prodded.

“Well, that’s your opinion. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to help people in need.” She was sounding less and less convincing as our conversation went on.

“Do you want to help them?” I asked.

“Yes, of course! I mean, maybe—” Hermione bit her bottom lip, not wanting to admit that maybe she didn’t want to help them after all.

“Alright, why don’t we play a little game. I’ll help you practice saying no,” I suggested as I flashed a smirk her way.

She laughed. “Like I’ll have any problems saying no to you.”

“Game on, then. Would you like to go out again sometime?” I asked casually.

She snorted. “No! This is bad enough as it is.”

“Come on, you can’t honestly tell me you’re having a horrible time. I’m not that bad, am I?” I pressed. I wasn’t going to give up that easily.

“Well no, but you’re still not my type,” she said.

“So, you’re having a good time then,” I countered.

“You’re a good distraction to my current situation and that’s all,” Hermione said with a smile grazing her lips. She clearly thought she’d won, but I wasn’t done.

I lowered my voice and gave her my best sincere, yet pleading look. “Give me a chance, Hermione. Just one more date. We’ll enjoy a walk in Regent’s Park and then I’ll take you to dinner. When I take you home, I’ll be the perfect gentleman, only giving you a kiss goodnight if it’s what you want. It will be a fairy tale of a first date.” 

At some point in the middle of my invitation, I’d placed my hand over hers. I could see in her eyes that she was starting to break. She looked as if no one had ever proposed such a nice evening to her before. I started to smile as I sensed a victory, but I must have started celebrating too soon.

Hermione pulled her hand away and pointed to me as she said, “You almost got me. Nice try!” A playful smirk crossed her face.

“Damn. Where’d I go wrong?” I asked.

“The kiss goodnight. I’d rather walk into oncoming traffic,” she said, her face completely serious. 

I burst out laughing. “Wait, wait, wait. You’re telling me you’d rather die than kiss me?” 

“Maybe.” She was a horrible liar. The straight face she managed quickly gave way to her own grin as she laughed along with me. 

“Alright, alright, I guess you won that round. Hey, you don’t mind if I try your drink, do you?” I reached my hand out and picked up her drink. 

“Yeah, I—wait, no!” She was still laughing about the earlier conversation that she didn’t fully register what I was doing until I’d already taken a healthy swig. ‘That wasn’t fair!” she said as she swatted my shoulder with her clutch.

“I didn’t make the rules,” I joked. “That drink is bloody horrid, by the way.”

~o~

The next morning I woke up to my phone ringing obnoxiously. I looked at the screen. “Seriously? You couldn’t have waited ten more minutes?” I groaned as I sat up and flipped open the phone.

“If it isn’t my long lost sister who’s been back in town a week and a half, yet still hasn’t graced me with her presence. To what do I owe this wake up call?”

“Oh, shut it, you git. You were the one who bailed on me when my train was due,” my sister said.

“Sorry, I had plans. Not my fault you waited until the last second to ask me to pick you up.”

“Well, luckily I can count on my friend to pick me up when my own flesh and blood can’t,” she snipped.

“Friend? You mean your neighbor?” I clarified.

“One can be both a neighbor and a friend, you know. I think you’d like her very much if you ever met her,” she slipped in the conversation.

I rolled my eyes, not that she could see. “I don’t need your help with dating. I’m perfectly capable of finding women on my own.”

“Mmhmm. Is that why you’ve never brought anyone home for Christmas?”

“Oi! You know how serious Mum is about when someone comes for Christmas dinner. You only bring a date if you intend to marry them. Last I checked you’ve never dared to cross that bridge, either.”

“Well, that’s why I’m calling you actually. I got engaged last night!”

I wasn’t sure I heard her properly. “You what? Ginny, that’s not funny. You only just arrived back in London!”

“Yes, well, I met Harry at a party the night I came home, thanks to my neighbor! She invited me along, I bumped into him when I arrived, and we’ve been inseparable ever since. He’s perfect, Ron. Mum was right! When you know, you know,” Ginny gushed.

“Gin, it’s been what? Ten days? I know how Mum believes in true love, but even this is pushing it,” I argued.

“I know it’s crazy, but I was thinking of stepping down from the league and switching to Reserves anyway. This could be the perfect transition into normalcy for me, and I really think you’ll like Harry. Give him a chance, will you?” Her voice sounded sincere, but I was still hesitant.

“I don’t know, Ginny…” I rubbed my temples as I tried to wrap my head around everything.

“What if you covered the wedding? Then you could get to know him a bit better, and we could spend more time together!”

“And if I say no because I don’t approve?” I asked her skeptically.

“First off, you don’t get to decide who’s suitable for me. I’m perfectly capable of deciding for myself.”

“Do you even have a second thing to say or are you just trying to sound sophisticated?”

“You won’t be disappointed,” she said with an air of confidence that only my sister, Ginevra Weasley, could pull off.

“And if Mum and Dad ask, I knew nothing about any of this,” I said seriously.

“Great! I’ll text you the details of where to meet us for our first interview!”

I heard her hang up the phone before I shut it and tossed it aside. I flung my head back on the pillow. Something wasn’t sitting right with me, but if there was one thing I knew about my sister, it was that I wasn’t going to change her mind.

Hermione

I woke up the next morning with a slight hangover. Maybe it was all a dream. That was the mantra I kept trying to follow as the day wore on. It was working until lunchtime rolled around and Jenny strode into the office. The first thing I noticed was her ring sparkling in the sunlight from the windows.

I assumed she was going to head over to Harry’s office. They probably had a celebratory lunch date or something planned out, but instead she marched right into mine. I looked up, trying my best to seem excited and happy for her.

“Hermione!” she said eagerly. “Can you believe it? I’m still reeling. It’s like my very own fairy tale come true,” Jenny said.

“It’s wonderful! I’m really so, so happy for you both!” I said with a forced smile.

Jenny frowned a bit. “Don’t worry, your time will come soon. I just know it. Better to wait for your perfect guy than settle for the first one you see, right?”

I was thankful she took my lack of excitement for self pity as opposed to jealousy. “Yes, I suppose that’s true,” I told her, even though on the inside I was screaming that I’d already waited long enough.

“Do you want to go get lunch?” she asked me, much to my surprise.

“Oh! I thought you were here to get lunch with Harry,” I said as my eyes diverted to his office.

“Well, yes, but we wanted you to come with us! I have something important I want to ask you,” Jenny said hopefully. I knew exactly where this was headed. 

“I have a lot of work to do, today, Jenny. I’m really sorry. Rain check?” 

It wasn’t an outright no, but I figured maybe Ron would still be proud that I hadn’t said yes right away. Wait, why did I even care what he thought?

“Are you ready to go?” Harry said as he joined our conversation. I looked away as he leaned in to kiss Jenny.

“Hermione says she’s too busy to join us,” Jenny told him.

I looked sheepishly at Harry. “I do have a lot of work to get done.”

“Really, Hermione? I hear your boss is a prat. Tell him to bugger off and come get lunch with us!”

I couldn’t help but laugh at Harry’s insults toward himself. “Well, if you insist, I guess I can slip away for an hour.” I grabbed my belongings and followed them out. 

We walked a couple of blocks to one of my favorite cafes near the office. After we ordered our food, Jenny pulled a small gift out of her bag and handed it to me.

“What’s this?” I asked in confusion.

“Open it and find out,” she said, grinning. 

Even Harry looked excited as I began to gingerly unwrap the gift. It was a small jewelry box. Inside was a thin rose gold bangle, whose metal was tied in a knot on the opposite side of the opening. There was a card behind it that said ‘Will you be my maid of honor?’ in loopy calligraphy.

Everything Ron had tried to prepare me for went out the window as I looked up at Jenny with tears in my eyes. I’d gotten so used to being hired out that I missed out on all of these nuances that happened when friends were meaningfully asked to be part of someone’s big day.

“I hope you like it. I’m not one on jewelry or fancy things like that myself, but you’ve been such a great friend and neighbor to me over the past few years that I couldn’t imagine asking anyone else to stand beside me,” Jenny explained sincerely.

“Of course I will, Jenny! It would be my honor!” I said, slipping the bangle over my wrist before getting up to hug her. “Thank you so much.”

“No, thank you!” she said, squeezing me tightly. “I promise it’s not because you’re a wedding connoisseur,” Jenny added.

As I pulled away and settled back into my seat, I laughed lightly. “Well, I wasn’t thinking that, but now I’m not so sure,” I teased.

Thankfully, lunch became more enjoyable after that, even though it was still a little awkward being around them together. My heart still ached, and I knew how hard this was going to be to help Jenny plan her wedding to the man of my dreams, but she’d been such a good friend to me that I had to.

Once we finished eating, I checked my phone. “I’d better be heading back. Wouldn’t want the boss to think I’m abusing my title as assistant to take a longer break than I’m allotted,” I said as I gave Harry a knowing look.

“Actually, I was hoping you’d ditch work this afternoon to help me start planning,” Jenny said hopefully.

“Oh, I don’t know—” I started to say before Harry cut me off.

“It’s okay, Hermione. Take the afternoon. I’m sure I can handle things on my own. You rarely take any time for yourself,” Harry told me.

“But—”

“Think of it as a task I’m asking you to complete, if that helps,” he said, his eyes shining mischievously.

“Well, fine, if you insist. But don’t be surprised if I put in for overtime depending on how long it takes this task to complete,” I joked.

“Now that’s taking it too far,” he said, keeping up the banter.

“Alright, alright, that’s settled. Now let’s go!” Jenny said as grabbed me arm and began pulling me towards the exit. “I want to see all those newspaper clippings and ideas you’ve got from the other weddings you’ve been in!”

Jenny and I returned to my apartment where she broke open a bottle of champagne as we sat on the couch and I showed her Billy Weston’s articles. After I was convinced she was growing bored of them, I moved on and showed her some of the pages in the two scrapbooks I’d made from the weddings I was in. We talked about countless venues, and everything from food to flowers to dresses.

“Well, I promise I won’t make you wear a hideous dress like some of these women have done. How have you been in so many weddings, anyways?” Jenny asked me.

“Oh, I—I just enjoy helping people,” I said, feeling my cheeks flush.

“You know that many people, though?”

“Something like that.”

It wasn’t a full on lie, but it also wasn’t the full truth either. I still wasn’t entirely comfortable with anyone other than Lavender knowing about Wilkins Weddings, and I also didn’t want Jenny to feel like she should pay me, either. 

“What’s this scrapbook?” Jenny asked as her eye caught the final book in the drawer that was still open. 

“That’s my parent’s wedding album,” I said as Jenny carefully picked it up. 

I looked over her shoulder as she flipped gingerly through the pages. “It’s absolutely gorgeous. Did they get married in London?”

I nodded. “Yes, at the Winchester House,” I said. I’d never told anyone, but there were so many elements from their wedding that I hoped to use or recreate for my own, including booking the Winchester. 

“I’ve heard of that place!” Jenny said. “Your Mum’s dress is stunning as well. Not many dresses are timeless like that, you know?”

“I do.” 

It was a vintage style dress; the ball gown was made of tulle and an overlay of lace applique. The bodice was modest with intricate beadwork and laced long sleeves. I’d actually found a more updated style of the dress not too long ago in a bridal magazine, and I cut out the picture to stash in my dream wedding shoebox. Instead of the beadwork on the bodice, the dress contained the delicate lace applique throughout and it had an iridescent shimmer with a spaghetti strap sleeve. It was my dream dress.

Hours passed and it was only when Jenny’s phone rang that we realized what time it was. I had to be honest, I really did have a wonderful afternoon full of wedding talk. I found it was easier if I pretended that Harry wasn’t her fiancée.

  “Hi! I’m so sorry, I know I’m late. I’ll be there in fifteen!” I watched as Jenny hung up her phone. “I’m so sorry, I’ve gotta run. Thank you so much for sharing all of this with me, I’ve got so many good ideas and I can’t wait to tell Harry and start calling vendors tomorrow. I’ll keep you updated alright?”

“Of course. Enjoy your evening!” I said as I watched her rush out the door.

~o~

Friday surprisingly flew by in a flash. For once, I left the office right on time. I was looking forward to a whole weekend of me time! The first one since the wedding season had begun.

“Yoga at ten tomorrow!” Lavender reminded me as we went our separate ways.

When I got home, I did a little cleaning that I’d been neglecting, and then ordered takeaway for dinner. It’d been a long week, and I honestly just wanted to watch reality shows on the telly and eat pizza. That distraction worked for a while, until one of the shows had its fair share of wedding drama. 

After crashing back into my own reality again, I decided to try and take a bath. I’d only just settled into the water when my phone rang. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said to myself as I reached around to see who it was. Of course it was Jenny.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Hey, Hermione! I hope I didn’t interrupt anything?” Jenny asked.

“Nope, nothing at all,” I said, hiding a sigh that desperately wanted to escape my lips. Just what was supposed to be a relaxing bath.

“Okay, great! So, I wanted to fill you in on some good news! I made lots of progress today on wedding plans.”

I chuckled. “I thought you and Harry had decided on a longer engagement. Why the rush?”

“Well, all last night I couldn’t get the images of the Putney Winchester House out of my mind! So I called them today, about five times actually. Normally they’re booked out for at least fifteen months, but they had a cancellation this morning!”

I felt like I’d just been punched in the stomach. She didn’t know that’s where I wanted my wedding to be. It was my fault that I never told her, but— “That’s great. I’m assuming you booked it?”

“Yes! It took a bit to get Harry on board, but the wedding’s in three weeks!” Jenny said excitedly.

“I’m sorry, did I hear you correctly? Are you sure you don’t mean months?”

“No, Hermione, it’s weeks. I know it’s mental, but with you by my side helping me plan I know we’ll be able to pull it off! I booked an appointment with a few bridal salons on Sunday, and my mum is going to come to town to shop with me. Plus we’re going to visit a few florists as well.”

I was honestly surprised she was taking the lead on a lot of the planning, and it actually put my mind at ease a bit. “You have been busy!”

“Yes. Now, I could only get an appointment with the cake shop for tomorrow afternoon. Would you mind tagging along? Harry insists he doesn’t care what flavor we choose, and I need someone who’s going to be a bit more decisive. Plus, there’s someone I want you to meet, as well.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” I said hesitantly.

“Please, Hermione?” she begged.

“Alright, what time and which bakery?” I caved.

“Fourteen thirty at the Chelsea Cake shop! Oh, and one more thing: I don’t want to offend you or anything, so I wanted to see if you’d be okay with this. You see, I need another bridesmaid. I don’t want to ask any of my sisters in law, and I don’t really have a lot of friends because I travel so much.”

“Your brother’s married?” I couldn’t help asking before she finished.

“Not the one in London, no, but I have four others who are. Oh, and another who’s still stag.” 

“Wait. Jenny, you have six brothers?”

“Guilty,” she admitted.

“Wow, and none of your sisters in law are suitable?” I tried to keep pushing forward so I wouldn’t stay stuck on the sibling thing.

“I mean, I could, but how am I supposed to pick which one? Anyways, when I was doing some research on other things, I happened to find an add for Wilkins Weddings. Have you heard of it? It’s basically a bridesmaid for hire service. I was thinking I could call them to help me out.”

Shit. I needed to do something, and fast. “No! I mean, yes, I have, but I have another idea!” I said quickly.

“You do?”

“Yes! Do you remember my friend Lavender? The one who works in accounting at the company?”

“Hmm, yeah the sassy one who’s always hanging out in your office?”

“Yes! I think you’d like her if you got to know her. I’m sure she’d be willing to help out. You know, for Harry.”

Jenny was silent for a moment. “Well, I wouldn’t want it to be an imposition or anything…”

“It won’t be! I’ll talk to her tomorrow and have an answer for you. How does that sound?”

“Only if you’re sure. Thanks, Hermione! You’re the best. I’ve got to get going though. I”ll see you tomorrow!”

“Bye,” I said as I shut my phone and set it on the floor.

I sunk down into the now lukewarm water. This was going to be a nightmare. Three weeks to plan a wedding? And Jenny unknowingly swiped my venue out from underneath me. Not to mention I’d just volunteered Lavender to be a bridesmaid. She was going to kill me.

~o~

“Three weeks?” Lavender hissed as we were beginning our sun salutations.

“Yes,” I groaned under my breath.

“How is that even possible? And didn’t you have your heart set on the Winchester House?”

“Yes, but that’s not her fault. I never told her,” I said in defense of Jenny.

“Well, I still don’t think any of this is right. Your pining or her rushing.” 

The instructor cleared her throat, and I gave an apologetic look. Lavender just looked annoyed.

“There’s one other thing,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Ugh, what? Is it something that will allow me to slap her now?” Lav asked.

“What? No! She’s not a bad person, Lav. She needs another bridesma—”

“NO. Hell no, I am not helping out some bitch I barely even know!” 

I winced as the instructor shot Lavender a death glare. We were going to get kicked out, I just knew it. “She found an ad for Wilkins! I had to do something! She doesn’t know..”

“So what? You volunteered me?”

“Well, considering I’m already in the wedding…” I muttered. “I’ll pay you,” I added quickly. 

I wanted the conversation to be done and over with so I could actually enjoy the relaxing qualities of the class. I was going to need it for the afternoon I had ahead of me.

“Fine! But it’s only because I care about you. And I swear if she even thinks about fu—”

The bang of the gong sounded, cutting Lavender off. I mouthed ‘sorry,’ as Lavender shot the instructor a contemptuous look.

“Last time I checked I didn’t see a ‘no talking’ sign,” she said as the instructor cued us into the next flow.

I didn’t respond as I shifted my focus into the class. It was still a rough conversation, but at least Lavender agreed. Somehow I had a feeling that this was only the beginning of a very hectic few weeks to come.

[lildoodlecat]

Alright buckle the fuck up bc I've just had a morning

So I live about a half hour drive from my college campus, and a couple of my classes this semester require me to buy some art kits from a very specific store that is, obviously, only on campus

Got up at 7, ready to head out for when the store opened at 7:30, and set off in my pajamas with my kiribaku ita bag and ready to make the drive

Google maps oh so handily said hey, did you know there's a highway that'll actually get you there faster than the freeway? So I was like hell yeah I love not driving on the freeway let's fucking go

I head out, drive the freeway for a bit until I hit the exit for the highway, and cruise on down a highway with a lot of construction, but it's been that way for years so whatever

The construction, surprisingly, caused no issue. I made it past and noticed hm, there sure do seem to be a lot of cars piled up ahead

And oh boy. There were. The whole highway backed up who knows how far, on a Tuesday morning.

And I'm thinking, well I don't wanna sit through that. I'm pretty sure there's a side road I can take instead?? So I switch into the exit lane and that's backed up a bit too but not much. I get off, I drive over and pull into a convenience store lot to check my map.

There is no other road.

There is no other fucking road and all that's here are residential neighborhoods and the goddamn maverick I'm parked in front of

So, shit, wrong decision there buddy but it's alright i guess I could just take the entrance ramp and get back on. But I really, really don't fucking want to try and merge onto a highway that's at a long, backed up standstill

I checked the traffic report just in case bc if there's an accident that didn't happen too recently it might clear up if I wait a bit. Yeah no it just happened and hey, that explains all the police that drove by earlier

Anyway I'm a pussy and decided to backtrack (and took a wrong turn and got lost in that residential neighborhood for a bit, during which I pulled over to check my map again and complain to some group chats abt my predicament)

So I changed my destination to the freeway and made it there with only one wrong turn

But the trouble doesn't end there because college campuses are confusing as hell

I got close to the building the store was in but couldn't quite see it as I kept going in circles and the navigator was like take the next left :D into what was, very obviously, a lawn and not a road

I also almost clipped a line of parked cars and gave myself a heart attack when I had to jerk the wheel because I was being a dumbass and trying to look at the map while I was driving slow

So I made it to a parking lot behind the building, and remembered hm, I got a couple emails about parking passes (which I didn't buy since I didn't think I'd need one). Do I need one to park in this lot??? Never figured out if I did but I parked in a corner and got out anyway

It is now 8:45am. Jesus christ, I just wanted to get my shit and go home

I wasn't sure where the hell the tiny hole in the wall store would be in the massive building, but apparently I had some good luck because I found it almost as soon as I walked in

For some reason it doubled as a coffee place?? Which sucks for me bc the smell of coffee makes me nauseous but whatever. I got one of my kits, paid, walked out,

wait a minute don't I need another hold the fuck on

Had to go back and awkwardly be like yeah me again, need another $200 kit mhm okay alrighty

But oh lucky me neither of these heavy fucks had handles so I'm awkwardly carrying both of them and a bigass roll of paper all the way to my car. At which point I just kinda dropped them in the grass to be able to use my keys and toss them in the back seat.

I got most of the way home fine, didn't see a stop sign until I was on top of it tho and had to slam my breaks (which threw my bag into a flip off the passenger seat and I heard something fall in the back but was like whatever it's fine I'm almost home

A little further and a cop pulls in behind me which immediately sent me into a bit of a panic because haha, cops are fucking scary

It was fine, obviously, bc I was going the speed limit and they weren't behind me long before I had to take a right and they kept going straight

The last bump in this hhhHHHARGHARAAAAA morning was a garbage truck that had stopped and was taking up the entire lane so I had to go around into the oncoming lane but it's not like that road is ever busy so it was fine

Made it home at 10:20am, dumped my shit in my room, and promptly collapsed on the couch because holy fuck, my heart hasn't calmed down and I'm still shaking (partially because I haven't eaten since last night but mostly nerves)

I'm good now but uGH I hated that so much

Also I think a part of one of the kits had to be changed so I might have to go back for it later and if that doesn't go at least semi-smoothly I'm gonna find a nice patch of dirt to decompose in