#but getting Red sure is good motivation to open up my story doc and get going again

[greenheartart]

Omg my bf is the absolute best. He surprised me with a Red for our anniversary today! I never thought I'd have one, and now I have two cool guys hanging out over my desk!

[phoenix-is-the-hottest-thing]

hello!! ive been meaning to get into writing, but i really have no idea where to start, so. do you have any tips for absolute beginners? thank you in advance and have a good day ^-^

Sure! Let me try... Ten tips in no particular order:

Have fun It should make you happy to write your stories. Doing it for the views/kudos/comments/etc will only bring frustration and disappointment. Either rely on intrinsic motivation or give yourself a break! That said, do give me comments. I love comments. :3

Start small Your first fic is not going to be perfect, and it's going to be difficult to write because writing is a muscle of sorts. It gets easier and easier as you do it, so when you're just starting out, you'll struggle. Make the process easier on yourself by having small goals to begin with.

Know how the story ends and write an outline One big issue when writing is having a cool concept and no damn clue how to end it, so you end up dropping it halfway. Honestly, that's fine, it's still a learning experience, but I think you'll feel better about yourself with finishable works. Your outline can be as concise or as verbose as you'd like, but especially for a beginner it'll help you keep track of what you're doing and prevent writer's block to an extent. When you know what happens next, it's easier to get there!

Don't hesitate to change your ideas halfway Just make sure you adapt what happens later down the line, too. New ideas are inevitable and they are good. The risk is to get an incoherent mess or to write yourself in a corner. Keeping the ending in mind while accepting that it can change (and changing it accordingly every time you need to) is a good middle ground.

It's fine to skip the boring parts YOU write your story. You're allowed to just go "and then they traveled to Japan in a plane". You don't need to describe the plane ride. There are better ways than others to write timeskips (or other kinds of skips) but they rely on exactly the same principle: it's okay to focus on the Fun Stuff, in fact, the reader probably wants you to focus on the Fun Stuff. You don't need to write the story linearly. Too bad for them, you're going to focus on what YOU find fun, not them.

Get an AO3 account now, not when your work is written Not only do you unlock more features, it can take a few grating days to get the account open. Why AO3? It'll protect your fanworks with its own lawyers. If you need the option to get paid, use and link social media, and keep your fics safe on your AO3 account.

Do NOT type your story in AO3's submit form If you refresh the page it'll get deleted. Use Google Docs or Word instead. Keep your work safe!

When you're writing a sentence, make sure it's clear who's who Use a lot of names if you need to and don't change who the subject is before you've "reset" a common address. Epithets are not to be abused either— repetition isn't THAT big a deal, I promise (and repetitive sentence structure is a bigger monotony issue in my eye). This is a mistake I see around a lot so I'll mention it directly. Example: Anne loved planes. Her friend Jessica loved trains. Her blue hair complimented Anne's red very well. See, you can't tell the "her" is Jessica until you mention Anne, because she was the subject's friend in the previous part, not the subject. A correct and unambiguous sentence would be: Anne loved planes. Her friend Jessica loved trains. Jessica's blue hair complimented her red very well. We know you have blue hair and pronouns, Jessica, but you do have to share!

Read lots Exactly what it says on the tin! Reading feeds your skills and creativity. Read what you love, read outside your usual genres, read essays or textbooks about writing, read scientific articles etc etc. The more you read the more you'll learn, and the better you'll write, with more tools stored in your brain.

(Please) Don't delete old fics This is more advice on your mindset, you may think it's too early, but hear me out. If one day you're cringing that hard, you can orphan or anonymize them to get some distance. It always breaks my heart when fics get deleted entirely. You'll probably think of them fondly someday, so might as well push through, and remember— no matter the quality, your work of art was a friend who helped you grow and let you learn something from it. (See, that's why it's important for a beginner to hear this). You'll never know whose life you've changed, whose tears you've dried with laughter (or whose tears you've caused), whose worldview you've added to, or whose important life lesson you accidentally taught. We don't influence reality very much, most of us never hit it big after all, but no writer is entirely insignificant either. Whether it's fluff, crack, or darkfic, writing can give you the opportunity to change even just one life for the better. I find it amazing. It makes me want to write better and better.

[kurt-nightcrawler]

Opposites Attract 

Warren Worthington III x Female Reader

Request 1:  Brooooo i’ve got a boyfriend was amazing! like you don’t understand how much i loved it. if you ever have time can you do like a continuation piece of fluff with warren and the reader or like when they met and became a couple? like same mutant and stuff

Request 2:  Aww I loved the one shot with mother nature and Warren! I loved how her eyes turned pink, when she saw Warren! I'd like to know more about them. Could you give us a little fluffy glimpse into their relationship? Thank you, my dear! You're amazing! 💕

I also may make a little fluffy fic about these two later! (also i know I’ve used this gif before, oh well)

Warnings: Swearing and mentions of sex

Word Count: 7.9k

 Ever since she was little, (Y/N) had a green thumb. Her parents had her play outside, help them do yard work, and she had her own collection of house plants from a young age. 

It wasn’t until she started getting older that things started to change. Maybe be more than just a “green thumb.”

Leaves grew in her hair and vines wrapped around her legs. Her eyes started changing color based on her mood. She looked like a woodland creature. 

-

With high hopes and her bags packed, she went to Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters. To find someone like her, or just find a place to fit in. 

Her eyes were green and she was ready to meet new people. 

-

(Y/N) fit in great. Her roommate could control the weather, which made their room a true plant haven, and she had a whole group of friends— and if you asked, no one could find anything bad to say about her. 

“She’s so sweet! She gave me some daisies when I was having a bad day.” 

“(Y/N) helped me study for my math test. I got a 92 because of her.”

“(Y/N) threw a surprise party for my birthday. It was wonderful!” 

Everyone liked her, and she liked everyone. Her eyes were almost always green and yellow— meaning she was happy and excited. 

But one day they weren’t green and yellow. 

-

“Alright, everyone. Your partner for the project is listed on the board. You can get to work.” (Y/N) looked over the list eagerly, excited for the inevitable mountain of work she’d be splitting with someone— it would be a good bonding experience. 

Her eyes scanned the list until she spotted her name. (Y/N) (Y/L/N) & Warren Worthington. 

(Y/N) glanced at him. Warren was pulling books out of his bag, earbuds in. 

I don’t… I don’t know Warren that well. This will be a great opportunity for me. We have lots of mutual friends, so this should be easy. 

“Hi.” 

Warren paused his music and pulled out an earbud, “Hey.” 

“We’re partners.”

“Right, right. Sit down.” She pulled up a chair and set her notebook on the desk. “So I was thinking since we have to talk about a political issue, we could do something that has lots of information available. Women’s rights, climate change, issues with the 1%, the problem with the rising trend of plant-based diets, mutant rights…” Warren didn’t say anything. He just listened. “We don’t have to do anything I listed, they’re just suggestions.” 

“Okay… We could do something on mutant rights. That’s probably the easiest since we’re mutants.” 

(Y/N) nodded, “Yeah, that works with me.” She wrote down their paper topic and the due date in her notebook. “I’m not sure if we’ll get enough time in class to work this week so I’ll give you my number.” Warren got on his phone and opened a new contact.

He held it out to you, “Here, just put it in.” 

You took it from his hands and typed in your name and number. You handed the phone back to him and moments later you got a text from an unknown number.

UNKNOWN: This is Warren. 

(Y/N): Hi! This is (Y/N)

He didn’t text back. “Okay, so I’m gonna make a google doc and share it with you.” Warren nodded. 

(Y/N) had a small, lopsided smile on her face. “You don’t talk much do you?”

“I talk.” 

“Yeah, but— I meant… Never mind.”

Warren raised his eyebrows. He knew exactly what she meant. But people weren’t supposed to like him. Warren was evil and scary. Sure, not as much as he used to be, but the school’s Disney princess didn’t need an interest in him. Jubilee and Jean would just yell at him for it, plus a good 30% of the school shipped her with Kurt, and he didn’t want to get in the way of that. 

As the bell rang, dismissing everyone from their class, Warren noticed (Y/N)’s eyes were slightly different as she left his desk. They had a slight bit of pink to them. 

What does pink mean? 

-

“I think he hates me.” (Y/N) announced as she face-planted onto Jubilee’s bed, letting vines grow and cover her like a blanket. 

“Who?” Jubilee asked. 

“Warren! We’re partners for the history paper thing and he, I dunno— he didn’t seem to want to be my partner.” 

Jubilee looked at her sulking friend, “That’s it?”

“I don’t get it! We’re in the same friend group, we probably have similar interests, and I’ve never been rude to him.” 

“He’s probably just tired. School is stressful, and I’m sure he just doesn’t want more work on top of everything he already has to do. I’m sure you have nothing to do with it.”

(Y/N) groaned into the pillow, “I can’t get a bad grade, and if he doesn’t like me then that makes things awkward in our friend group.”

Jubilee laid next to her, face up. “It’s Warren… he’s… he’s got some trauma and other issues. I’m sure he’ll warm up to you eventually… Not everyone’s going to break down their walls after one conversation.” 

(Y/N) groaned against and wrapped her makeshift leave blanket tight around her body. 

“I’m going to get some food… Please take your vines with you when you leave.”

“Yes, mom.” (Y/N) mumbled.

-

“What’s her motive?” Warren asked Peter. Peter shrugged. “There’s no way she’d be nice to me just to be nice.” 

“I dunno, man. She’s nice to everyone, and I’ve never heard one bad thing about her. She yelled at me and her eyes turned red once, but that’s about it.” He took a bite of his sandwich, “Why do you even care anyway?” 

Kurt and Scott sat down with them, interrupting their conversation. 

“Shh! Not now…” Peter waved them off to make them silent. “Answer my question, Worthington.”

“Cause I’m not a good person. (Y/N) shouldn’t want to try and be my friend. Too many people would get upset about it. Do you know how many people want her to date, Kurt? Tiffany Jones DMed me on Instagram telling me to not ruin that. Tiffany Jones! We’ve never even spoken to each other! I didn’t even know she followed me.” 

Peter held back an eye roll. Warren was a good person, despite his past. Would he ever realize this? Probably not. 

“Okay well, (Y/N) is just kind to everyone. It fits her whole “Mother Nature” vibe she’s got going on. Just don’t be a dick to her and you’ll be fine.”

“She wants to date me?” Kurt asked and his cheeks were slightly violet and flushed. 

“No, Kurt,” Warren interjected. “People want you two to date. It’s like Stranger Things— some people wanted Nancy to date, Johnathan, others wanted her to date, Steve. They shipped her with someone. People do it with you and (Y/N), and it’s kinda weird but to each their own, I guess.” 

“Oh... But why me? Why not you or someone else?”

“Because you’re both liked by everyone, and you’re nice to everyone. I’m like... Rodrick from Diary of a Wimpy kid; (Y/N) is a Disney princess. We wouldn’t mix.” 

Peter and Scott tried holding back snickers, as Warren was kinda right. He was a punk emo with daddy issues, and he wasn’t half bad with a drum set.

“Don’t opposites attract?” 

Warren waved him off, “That’s a myth.” 

Kurt shrugged, “Andy and April from Parks and Rec worked out.” 

“They’re fictional, and (Y/N) could date almost any guy here. Why would she want to date me?” 

Silence. “She doesn’t. End of story. She’s just overly nice and I thought for a moment maybe someone was forcing her to be or she like, wanted to sleep with me or something.” Warren shrugged, “I dunno.” 

“You sound like the plot of a Tame Impala song.” Warren threw a grape at Scott’s head, missing him by an inch or so. “Hey! Just because I’m calling you out for obsessing over a girl doesn’t mean you can get mad at me. I could have gotten hurt!” 

“Dude, it’s a grape. Plus you have glasses on. You would have been fine,” Peter said. 

“It’s the matter of the thing.” Peter rolled his eyes at his roommate’s dramatics.

“You know I wouldn’t purposely hurt you.” Warren reminded him. 

“Still… You can’t get mad because a cute girl is being nice to you.” 

“I’m not mad, I’m confused. There’s a difference.” 

Scott nodded mocking him by agreeing, “Uh-huh… And in about a week you’ll be gushing over how amazing she is and how you’d do anything for her, and how you could just watch her do nothing all day.” 

“That’s you. You described yourself.” 

Scott raised his eyebrows as he played with the fry in his hand. “And? I know I’m whipped, I don’t care— You on the other hand…” Warren glared at him. Scott smirked and popped the fry into his mouth. 

“What color were her eyes when you talked to her?” Peter asked.

“I don’t know, uh, green? Aren’t they almost always green?”

Scott nodded, and Peter continued talking. “Yeah, but I was just curious. If she really didn’t want to be nice to you just because then maybe her eyes would have been like brown or something— I dunno. There’s a million different options.”

As Peter was going on and on about (Y/N)’s eyes changing color, Warren’s mind started to drift off to their interaction in class. 

Her eyes were green, but they weren’t pure green… 

“You don’t talk much do you?”

Warren’s eyes met hers, “I talk.” 

“Yeah, but— I meant… Never mind.”

Her eyes were pink. Only for a little while, and Warren almost thought he imagined it— but he didn’t. There was no way. 

But what did pink mean?

“What does it mean if her eyes turn pink? Like a millennial pink sort of.” 

Peter furrowed his brows as he thought for a moment, “You know… I don’t know… I don’t think her eyes have ever turned pink before.”

“Oh.” Warren frowned a little. He was expecting Peter to know, or at least have a vague idea.

-

Warren was showering when his phone dinged. He only had sound on when he wasn’t 100% available, in case of an emergency. 

He held his arm out to grab his phone and keep it from getting wet.

(Y/N): Hey, Warren! 

He sighed, it was just (Y/N). Nothing major. 

Warren: What’s up?

(Y/N): Want to work on the paper together? Ororo ran to the store with Raven so my room is available.

Warren debated for a few seconds whether or not he should go. He didn't have anything else to do, and it wasn’t that late. 

Warren: Sure. I’ll be down in about 20 mins.

(Y/N): *thumbs up emoji*

Warren smiled to himself before finishing his shower.

-

(Y/N) tried to make the room look presentable as possible, which was hard to do with all the plants everywhere— on her side and Ororo’s. 

There was a knock on the door. (Y/N) glanced in the mirror, making sure she didn’t look too frazzled. Then she opened the door to let Warren in.

His hair was damp and he smelt like a vanilla candle, he wore sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. One large enough to hide his wings in, so there were no holes cut in the back. 

“Hi! I hope wasn’t interrupting you or anything…” 

He shut the door behind him, “No, I was just in the shower.” He glanced around the room. Warren had been in it before, most of the time to hang out with Ororo, but he never really paid attention to (Y/N)’s half. Her side of the room was covered in fairy lights and plants. A lot of plants. 

“Sit wherever you want. Just kinda ignore all the plants—“ Some of the vines hanging around her bed moved as she sat down. 

“Okay.” He sat down in the desk chair. 

“So… I got a couple of news articles dealing with mutant rights— one about the adoption laws varying from state to state… another about some of the protests in Chicago due to the girl with gills getting fired from her job…” 

-

Surprisingly, Warren and (Y/N) finished their paper sooner than they thought they would. “I’m gonna send it to Jubilee so she can give criticism since she’s in honors.” 

“Sounds good.” (Y/N) nodded, typing away on her laptop.

Then Warren’s stomach growled. He blushed. 

“Sorry— I didn’t eat after training…”

“You skipped dinner?” 

“Yeah, I wasn’t that hungry and I took a shower. I didn’t really eat lunch either… I’ve been kinda preoccupied—“ 

“What the hell?! You have to eat! Your body needs nutrition! You of all people should know that— you’re like, 90% muscle.” 

“It’s just one time.”

“Doesn’t matter. Come on— we finished our paper. You’re getting something to eat.” 

-

(Y/N) held Warren’s hand as she dragged him into the kitchen. They received a few weird stares, but it didn’t concern her. 

How could Warren be so careless?

“Sit.” She pointed to a bar stool.  “I’ll make something.” Warren nodded and sat down. 

“Do you have any food allergies?” 

“Don’t think so.” 

“Great, I’ll make something basic.” (Y/N) looked through the fridge before settling on the cheese. 

Grilled cheese is easy enough. Plus I can make myself one. 

She turned on a stovetop and put the buttered bread on the pan. 

She grabbed two plates from a cabinet using the vines from her arms— they extended to reach and wrap around the plates and set them on the table. Warren watched in awe. It looked effortless— kind of like when telepaths move things with their mind, they make it seem like anyone could do it.

“Does it take effort? Manipulating plants?” 

(Y/N) shook her head as she set Warren’s sandwich on a plate, and got her’s onto the pan. “Not the vines on my body. Other plants, though, it depends. If I’m just moving a vine or tree branch out of my way, that’s easy, but to have a sapling grow into a fully formed oak tree? That takes a bit more energy. Sometimes in my sleep I accidentally cause plants to grow— I’ll wake up next to an apple tree, or even a pumpkin or watermelon.”

“Really?” He was surprised. 

“Yeah. Also, the weather can affect me too. If it’s sunny out and the plants are thriving, I’m usually more awake and can do more without feeling weak, but if it’s cold and cloudy or even snowing, it takes a bit more effort.” 

(Y/N)’s eyes were a vibrant green and yellow, you could tell she was excited to tell someone about her mutation. She looked genuinely happy to talk about it. 

“That’s really cool. I didn’t know you could do all that.” 

He swore her eyes flashed a bit of pink again, but it could have been the lighting. 

“No one really asks… and besides, you can’t really use plants in the danger room.”

“I bet you could…” Warren offered.  “If you found a way.” 

She glanced down at her sandwich, “Maybe…” 

“Can I ask you something else?”

She looked up and nodded. Her eyes definitely had some pink now. Warren didn’t know why, but he wasn’t going to ask. 

“What’s up with you and Kurt?” 

“Oh— Oh, um, I mean it’s nothing.” Her eyes were purple as she spoke, “People started some rumors after I helped Xavier as his TA for Kurt’s English class, and no one wanted to read for Juliet so I read for her and people decided to ship us. We’re not actually dating.” 

“That was a while back… people still haven’t let that go?” 

She shook her head, “Plus, people think ‘Oh, Kurt’s so innocent, and (Y/N) is too. They’d make a great couple.’ Which is dumb because guys and girls can be similar and just be friends.”

“Yeah, but a lot of people want you guys together. I had a girl DM me on Instagram to not get in the way of it.” 

(Y/N)‘s eyes widened in surprise, “What? Why?” 

“I dunno. I guess she thought I’d pull off some like, fuckboy moves or something.” 

“But you’re not a fuckboy! You haven’t even dated anyone since you came to school here— and I know that’s by choice. There’s at least twenty girls here who’d love to have your tongue down their throat.” 

Warren blinked at her bluntness. He was not expecting that. “I mean… you’re not wrong…” He had a faint idea of who some of the girls were, but he figured ignorance was bliss. If he knew for sure who they were, Warren wasn’t sure he could look them in the eyes. 

He cleared his throat, “Well, there’s a good number of guys interested in you… why aren’t you dating one of them?”

“I don’t want to. I mean sure, there’s tons of cute guys, but I just don’t think it would work out. Plus, too many people would kill them if they weren’t Kurt,” (Y/N) joked. 

Warren smiled, “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He got up, carrying his plate to the sink. 

“I’ve also never had a boyfriend before.” 

He looked at her, curious. “That can’t be true. You’ve never had a boyfriend before?” 

“Nope. I’ve kissed people before and stuff… but, I dunno…”

“Having high standards isn’t a bad thing… Guys can be dumb as shit sometimes.” 

(Y/N) laughed, “Trust me, I know.” 

Warren rose an eyebrow while setting (Y/N)’s plate into the sink. 

“Scott, a  prime example of a dumb boy in a relationship.” 

Warren snickered, “Super smart but dumb as shit check!” 

(Y/N) shook her head, pretending to be disappointed but she had a smile on her face, “God we’re so mean.” 

“A little, but it’s Scott… a little harmless teasing won’t hurt.”

“I guess so.” 

Warren washed his hands and dried them with a towel. “Wanna go back up to my room? Or do something else?... It’s only 7:00.” 

“Yeah, sure.” 

-

Peter and Kurt were in Warren’s room, which he shared with Kurt, when he entered with (Y/N). 

“And where have you two been?” Peter asked, pretending to act like a stern and concerned parent. 

“We finished our paper and I made grilled cheese.” 

“Grilled cheese, huh? No… ulterior motives?” Peter dragged out, just to tease Warren about his disconcerts from before. Warren flipped him off while (Y/N) wasn’t looking. 

“What have you guys been up to?” (Y/N) asked, sitting cross-legged on the floor. 

“Not much. Jubilee asked us to help her organize the third grader’s field trip to the zoo for extra credit from McCoy.” 

“Oh my gosh— I said I’d help her with that—“ (Y/N) looked at her phone and mumbled a curse. “I ignored her message…”

“Just tell her you were busy, I’m sure she won’t mind.” Warren shrugged.

“But I feel bad for ignoring her, plus the extra credit—“ 

“That you don’t need. Don’t feel bad, Jubilee forgets to respond to stuff all the time.” Warren walked over to his closet. “Are you gonna be okay if I take my shirt off?” 

(Y/N)’s eyes widened in shock and confusion, “Why— What— What, why are you stripping?” 

She was sure her eyes were fully purple, I mean, come on! What kind of random question is ‘Are you okay with me taking my shirt off?’ Plus they were in Warren’s bedroom!

“I just don’t want to keep my wings restrained if I don’t have to… I usually don’t in my room, I’m shirtless most of the time.” 

(Y/N)’s eyes flashed magenta for a moment as the thought of a shirtless Warren flashed through her brain for a second. She cleared her throat.

“Yeah, go ahead. I don’t mind.” He nodded and removed his hoodie off, tossing it on his desk chair.

“Well, Kurt…” Peter awkwardly spoke up.  “I think Jubilee wanted our help with the field trip… And with some other stuff…” 

“Vhat?” 

“Remember?” He asked, motioning to (Y/N) and Warren with his eyes. 

“Oh! Oh Yeah! Ve… Ve gotta go.” Kurt waved. 

“Have fun, you guys!” Peter grabbed Kurt’s hand and they disappeared with a puff of smoke. 

“Do they think— because we’re not— I don’t— You don’t—“

“Relax, (Y/N).” Warren chuckled. “That’s just Peter being Peter.” 

“I suppose so…” She grew a flower in the palm of her hand and picked at the petals. 

Warren plopped down next to her, “What do you want to do?” 

She shrugged, “I’m not sure… We could… We could play never have I ever.”

Warren scoffed, “Never have I ever, with only two people?” 

“It’s fun. More... intimate. Ororo and I used to do it a lot when she had trouble sleeping her first few nights here.” 

“Are you trying to sleep with me?” He teased.

“What? No! No, no… Why are you laughing?”

“I was just joking. And you’re reaction was funny. Like we’d ever sleep together.”

She glanced at him, in a bit of disbelief of what he said. “Hmm?” 

“I don’t think— Never mind.”

(Y/N) nodded awkwardly, trying to make herself not feel awkward. She didn’t want to make the situation weird, “I’ll start the game. Never have I ever ditched class.” 

“I have.”

“I know, Jubilee tells me when you two skip to go thrift shopping or to the music store downtown.” 

“You should join us sometime— Never have I ever cheated on a test.” 

“I did once. One time! In third grade, I wasn’t sure how to spell vacuum so I looked at the girl next to me and copied what she put.” 

Warren faked a gasp, “You trouble maker!” 

“It was third grade!” (Y/N) tried to be defensive, but couldn’t hide the smile adorning her face as Warren teased. “My turn. Never have I ever… never have I ever… had a crush on a friend’s significant other.” 

Warren hesitated with his answer. He didn’t really want to tell (Y/N). He didn’t have a crush anymore, and the girl knew— but her boyfriend didn’t. If he found out, Warren was dead meat.

“Who was it?”

“What?”

“The girl you had a crush on…”

“I don’t have a crush on anyone.”

“You were slow at answering. If you didn’t like anyone you wouldn’t need time to answer.” 

Warren shot a dirty look at (Y/N). “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean anything by it, I was just curious—“

“Can we just forget it? She knows, and I don’t like her anymore.” 

“Yeah, yeah… It’s uh, it’s your turn.” 

Warren didn’t say anything.

“You can ask me whatever you want. No matter how personal it seems.” 

“Alright… Are you a virgin?”

I did say he could ask me anything… Plus I did ask him a really personal question… “Yeah.” 

“Oh…” Duh! She’s never had a boyfriend before. What kind of question was that, dumbass?

“I’ve never been in a relationship or had sex— I’m not a prude though, I’ve kissed people before. At like, spin the bottle at a party or something.” 

“I respect that… Relationships are messy and honestly sometimes don’t seem worth it.”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) nodded, fiddling with another flower she grew. “Kissing isn’t that great anyway.”

Warren involuntarily licked his lips, “What do you mean?” 

“It’s either too short and awkward and you bump noses, or like, there’s too much force and pressure to it and the other person collides their teeth with your lips.” 

“Jesus! Who are you kissing?”

(Y/N) chuckles darkly and shakes her head, “You don’t want to know.” 

Warren smiled, “Yikes.” 

They both laughed together. 

When the laughter died down, Warren asked the dumbest question possible. 

“Can I kiss you?” His voice was quiet, soft— different from how it was moments before.

“What?”

“I’ve been told I’m a good kisser…” He awkwardly explained. “I could show you… Change your mind?”

“Change my mind?”

“It could stay between us… It doesn’t even need to have any meaning behind it.” Warren scooted himself so he was sitting face to face from (Y/N). He looked up at her eyes trying to figure out what she was thinking. Her eyes flashed from yellow to pink, then purple. He wasn’t sure what the colors all meant. He made a mental note to learn what they all stood for. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

She nodded, “Change my mind.” 

Warren cupped her face in his hand. “Are you really sure about this?”

“Yeah…”

“Alright.” Warren tilted his head to the left a little, to prevent his nose from bumping into (Y/N)’s. He pressed his lips gently against hers. Warren used his other hand to cup the rest of her face. Their lips moved together in perfect motion. A warm feeling formed in Warren’s stomach, and he carefully removed his lips from (Y/N)’s.

It was rather brief, but enough to show (Y/N) what she’d been missing. 

“Wow…” Her eyes were pinker than before. Warren’s face was flushed, but he ignored it. 

“Wow?”

“Yeah, um… wow. That was… That was nice.” 

“Mhmm…” Warren wasn’t sure what to say. Yeah, he was a good kisser, but the kiss didn’t mean anything. It was just showing (Y/N) that not everyone sucks at kissing. The pink in her eyes just meant she was flustered and nothing else.  She wasn’t going to crush on Warren, and he wasn’t going to crush on her. 

-

(Y/N) left after that. She didn’t know what to do. She’d heard rumors about Warren— saying he was a player, a heartthrob, didn’t care about anyone but himself— (Y/N) couldn’t find that to be true. Sure, if she caught feelings she would get hurt because Warren didn’t like her back… but he wasn’t an asshole. 

She sighed, slipping into pajamas. It was easy for everyone else, (Y/N) had no complications with anyone else, everyone liked her and she liked them. She’d only gotten mad at someone once and it was Peter… but Warren… Warren was different. 

Something drew (Y/N) in, and she couldn’t figure out what. Perhaps, despite their differences, they could be good friends. 

As she got under her covers, she sprouted some poppies to help her sleep. 

-

The paper was a huge success! Warren and (Y/N) got a 98% on it. 

“We should celebrate!” 

“What for? You did most of the work.” 

“That’s not true, and besides, I’ve had a tiresome week and I want to relax.” 

Warren shrugged, “Sure. What’d you have in mind?” 

-

“Why are we in the attic?” 

“I thought we could watch a movie or something. Ororo and I have been using it as a greenhouse of sorts, but we haven’t grown enough plants yet.” 

“Yet?!” Warren gaped. The attic was like 80% plant, 20% building, and here (Y/N) was, saying there’s no such thing as too many plants.

She smiled, setting down her laptop and some blankets, “Duh!” (Y/N) messed with her laptop for a few minutes before pulling up Netflix. 

“You can pick something out.” 

“Anything?” (Y/N) nodded. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” She was off to the side, messing with a plant. “If you don’t see anything you like, I have Hulu too.”

“Netflix is fine.” 

(Y/N) came back and sat next to Warren. “Find something good?”

“Uh, yeah— yeah.” She peered over his shoulder to see.

“Ooo! The Addam’s family! I love that movie.”

“I haven’t seen it since I was a kid. I barely remember the plot.” 

“Oh, it’s so good! You’re gonna love it.” 

(Y/N) pressed play and got comfortable under the covers. Warren did the same. 

-

The movie was good. Warren really enjoyed it. 

“What’d you think?” (Y/N) was excited in asking him. 

“It was good! Like, really good.”

“Yeah! I really liked Gomez and Morticia and their relationship, even if it is unrealistic… Also for the 90s, the effects for Thing were really good!” Warren nodded, slightly frowning when she talked about Gomez and Morticia’s relationship. 

Is that really what she thinks? Is that why she’s single? 

Why— Why do I even care?! It’s not like I like her or anything.

“Yeah, yeah… We should uh, get going—“ He glanced at the laptop, “—before people ask where we are.” 

“Right! Right… I can get it, no biggie.”

“Sure you don’t want any help?” (Y/N) shook her head. Warren couldn’t help but notice she had a shift in demeanor. Her eyes were fully purple, with pink slowly fading around the pupil. He kept quiet and followed (Y/N) out of the attic.

“Are you going to the mall Friday?” He asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah.” Scott wanted the group to do something fun for once— plus it was one of the few options Xavier approved of. “Are you?”

“Uh-huh. Peter suggested we go see a movie or something.”

“Yeah, that could be fun. Scott will wanna hit up the arcade but that’s typical.”

They stopped at her door— (Y/N) obviously struggled to open it due to the unwieldy stuff in her arms. “Here— I got it,” Warren opened the door and let her go forward. 

“Thanks.” 

“No problem. I’ll see you later.” 

“You’re leaving?” Warren felt his chest ache, but he dismissed it as nothing. He ate at Five Guys with Jubilee and Kurt the other day. 

“Yeah, I have some homework… Sorry…” 

“You’re okay. I’ll… see you later.” 

Warren smiled and said, “Bye,” before shutting the door behind him. When he was gone, (Y/N) sat down and leaned against the door and sighed. 

She didn’t want him to leave, but she didn’t know what to do or what to say— she wanted to kiss him again. 

No— You can’t kiss him. Warren doesn’t like you. 

She pushed the dirty thought aside and flopped onto her bed, covering herself in ivy to lay and let the sun come through the window.

-

Warren was in Hank’s lab, just for a medical update. Alex was there as well, as he’s never too far away from Hank. 

“Any trouble with your wings?”

“Not really. The feathers grow back metal and they’re heavy. They’re easier to clean than my old ones, but I sometimes miss a spot.”

Hank nodded, skimming some papers. “Do you want someone to help you clean your wings?”

“No! No way,” Warren rose his voice defensively. “I’m not comfortable.” 

“Maybe if you had a boyfriend or girlfriend to help out,” Alex offered. 

Warren rolled his eyes, “Well, I don’t have one and there’s no one here I want to date anyway.” 

Alex smiled to himself, “You mean there’s no one here who you think likes you, so you pretend to not be interested.” 

“Since when did you become my psychiatrist?” Warren squinted.

“Since your movie date.” 

Hank glanced at Alex for a moment before going back to his paperwork, “What movie date?”

“The one he and (Y/N) had yesterday—“

“It wasn’t a date. She just wanted to hang out some more since we finished our paper for English.”

“Mhmm…” Alex didn’t believe it. 

“I’m serious! We are literally in the same friend group, we’re going to hang out together.”

“What Peter’s been telling me is different.”

 Warren almost scoffed in disbelief, “You’re really going to trust Peter over me on this?”

“No, but Peter told me you asked what it means when her eyes turn pink.” 

Hank stopped his work and was fully listening to the blondes argue— “(Y/N)’s eyes have never been pink before, well, not many shades of pink. What was it?” 

“Um… It was only for a moment,” Warren mumbled.  “It could have been the lighting or whatever…”

“No, no, this is really important. I like to keep a note of what each of her colors mean. Even if you just saw her eyes flash, I need to know when, why, and what shade of pink.”

“It’s happened a few times, but never for very long… it’s usually a millennial pink… Um, I don’t think it’s happened around anyone else before because no one else knew what I was talking about when I asked…” 

“How often have her eyes turned pink? What were you guys doing when they turned pink?”

Warren thought back to all the times he swore her eyes turned pink. Nothing huge… Just when we were in class or whenever we’ve hung out this week. Nothing too special— Oh. 

Warren realized something. Something he maybe shouldn’t have. 

Her eyes were fully pink when we kissed… I— I can’t tell Hank and Alex that! They wouldn’t understand and they’d think we’re into each other. Which we are not… Well, I don’t think I’m into (Y/N), but now I’m not sure if she likes me or not.

“Just during class, when we’re alone, just like, whenever we’ve hung out this week. I don’t think it means anything really.” 

“You never know, Warren.” 

He nodded, “Right, right… Am I uh, am I free to go?”

“Yeah, you’re fine, you’re wings are fine. You can access your medical file if you want the details.” 

“Great. Thank you.” Warren hopped off the bed and walked out. 

-

What am I going to do?! (Y/N) might like me! Now I have to put in effort and not seem like a total burnout around her. She’s got high expectations and standards and I’m fucked!

Wait… Warren sat there, confused. Why did he care if (Y/N) liked him?

If I accidentally break her heart, everyone will actually kill me and... I kind of give a shit for once. That’s all…

Warren got his phone out and opened his messages. He opened his conversation with (Y/N). The last thing she sent him was an old picture of Alex she found in the library. 

He typed out hey, ready to send it, but his thumb hovered over the little arrow. What would he even say to her? What if she didn’t respond? What if she actually hated him and that’s what the pink meant? He turned his phone off and set it on his bed. Warren flopped onto his mattress and buried his face into his pillow. 

-

(Y/N) was studying with the other girls. They were reviewing for McCoy’s bio test and she was busy writing down answers for her study guide. 

“Who’s going to the mall Friday?” Jubilee asked out of the blue. 

Jean started listing off people, “Scott, Peter, Kurt, us—“ 

“Warren’s going! He told me,” (Y/N) spoke up. 

“He is?” Jubilee asked. “He didn’t say anything to me.” 

“I asked him yesterday.” (Y/N) had a smile on her face. 

“When?” Ororo got out a pack of gum and offered Jean a piece. 

“We were up in the attic watching a movie.”

Jubilee eyed her, “You guys did what?” 

“We just watched the Addams family. Warren and I are friends.” (Y/N)’s tone was slightly defensive. 

“Your eyes are pink,” Jean stated. 

“What?” (Y/N) quickly looked at herself using her phone’s front camera. “Oh my god—it’s— they’ve— they’ve never been pink before. I don’t know what—“

“Think for two seconds. Who are we talking about?”

Jean! I don’t— I don’t like Warren! Not as a boyfriend. He’s not my boyfriend and he doesn’t want to date anyone.

She smirked. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“I just really like the fact we’re friends now. That’s all. I’m not in love with him or anything…”

What if my subconscious does love Warren? I doubt it. I think I would know if I was in love. 

“And anyway, it’s just a coincidence. They’ve never been pink before so I’m sure finally being friends with Warren just—“

“They’ve been pink before,” Ororo spoke up.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened in shock. “What? When?” 

“I don’t know when exactly, but Peter told me Warren was asking about it a few days ago.” 

(Y/N) was trying not to freak out. “Why was he asking?”

“Didn’t say, but I bet he saw your eyes flash pink or something.” 

“Oh my god…” (Y/N) was horrified. Warren knew. He knew! He knew how she felt and he would probably never speak to her again or break her heart and (Y/N) couldn’t live with either of those options. She didn’t want the first person she’d ever had a real crush on to find out. Warren didn’t want to date anyone! He told her this, right before they kissed in his bedroom… 

(Y/N) buried her face in her hands and groaned. She didn’t know what to do— by this time tomorrow, everyone would know she likes Warren. The embarrassment, the rejection, the humiliation, the—

“Hey, babe. Here’s your textbook you left in my room.” 

(Y/N) looked up and saw Scott giving a book back to Jean. She looked at his face. 

Of course! Scott wears glasses all the time so it’s harder to know what he’s thinking!

“Scott—” 

He turned to face (Y/N). “Yeah?”

“Do you have a spare pair of glasses?”

“Um… I just have my visor. Why are you asking?” 

She waved him off, “Never mind. Jubilee, can I borrow your sunglasses?”

“Sure, why?” 

“I need to cover my eyes. Just for a while. Until this whole, “pink eye” thing stops happening.” 

“Pink eye?” Scott asked, furrowing his brows.

“It’s— It’s nothing, trust me. Warren and I are becoming closer and I’m just happy.”

“Your eyes turn pink when you’re around Warren?” Scott was trying to hide his emotions, for his mind was zooming with thoughts.

“And when we talk about him,” Jubilee teased. 

“You know,” Scott pondered,  “He was asking about that the other day…” 

(Y/N) tensed. Warren had to know. There was no way he didn’t. “He was?” 

“Yeah. What does it mean?”

“It means—”

“—It means,” Jubilee cut her off, “(Y/N)’s got a thing for Warren.”

(Y/N) shook her head, “I do not!” 

“Yeah, you do,” Ororo said offhandedly.  

“It doesn’t matter, okay? I just need some sunglasses to hide my eyes so people don’t know what I’m feeling all the time. Have you ever thought maybe I don’t like being an open book?” The last sentence came out harsher than expected. Everyone was shocked, how could (Y/N) (Y/L/N), the flower child, be so angry? 

(Y/N) looked down, embarrassed from raising her voice, “I didn’t mean to snap at you guys…”

Jubilee spoke over her, “It’s okay. I’ll get you my sunglasses.” 

-

Everything was darker, but that was the purpose of sunglasses, to block out the sun. (Y/N) didn’t mind much, but it was sometimes hard to read text on the board and her eyes hurt by the third period. 

“How do you do this every day?” She asked Scott as they walked down the halls to their next class. 

“I don’t have a choice.” 

“Oh…” (Y/N) glances down at her feet wide-eyed with guilt. “Right…”

“I know you’re doing it for other reasons, but I think it’s cool you’re wearing sunglasses all day. I don’t feel alone.” 

“I can— I can still see color though.” 

“Yeah, but not as well. Sometimes I feel lonely when everyone talks about colors— the sunset, the fruit at the grocery store— hell, I even miss seeing the green grass! The grass!” 

“That must be hard.” (Y/N) couldn’t help but feel pity, even though she knew that Scott didn’t want it. “I don’t think I could ever imagine living in just red…” 

“Sometimes…” Scott sheepishly began, “Jean uses her powers and I can see color for a little bit, but it’s from her point of view, and it’s hard for her. She can only do it for a minute or two, and I don’t want to hurt her.” 

“Aww,” (Y/N) cooed. “You’re so sweet.” 

“Shut up!” A blush covered Scott’s cheeks and he got quiet for a moment. 

“So you and Warren, huh?” 

(Y/N) groaned, “Why am I talking about this with you?”

“Because I’m your only guy friend in a relationship,” Scott offered up as a question. 

She huffed. Scott was right. “Fair point… It’s just… I don’t know… I don’t think he likes me back—which is fine— I just don’t want him to be uncomfortable when he finds out I like him.” 

Scott furrowed his eyebrows, “When he finds out?”

“Pink eyes,” (Y/N) deadpanned. “remember?” 

“Right, right… but how do you know he doesn’t like you back?” 

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, “We can’t have a telepath in our relationship.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Jean probably knew you liked her the whole time before you dated.” 

“Hold on! She never read my mind— we made a promise—“

(Y/N) crosses her arms and stopped for a moment, “Mmhmm. All I’m saying is, there’s no mind reader between me and Warren. I can’t tell, and he doesn’t know yet… besides, he told me himself, we wouldn’t work out. We’re too different, and too many people want me to date, Kurt…” 

“Opposites attract.” 

“No, they don’t… At least that’s what Warren said…”

“Okay, listen— Warren is the dumbest person I know.”

(Y/N)’s mouth gaped, “Warren’s not dumb, he’s in two AP classes and speaks multiple languages.”

“What—“ Scott squinted,  “What does that have to do with anything?” 

“You said Warren was dumb. I said he wasn’t.” (Y/N) awkwardly crossed her arms. 

“What I meant was, Warren’s being stupid. Thinking he’s not good enough for anyone, how he thinks he’s too punk for you. It’s obvious!”

“What is?” 

“Warren likes you.”

-

(Y/N) stood there, in shock. She didn’t know what to do. 

Warren liked her. Allegedly. 

“How— How do you know that?”

“You can just tell. It’s obvious.”

Maybe… “Oh…” 

A teacher down the hall scolded some students for loitering in the hall. “We better get to class,” Scott motioned to the kids with his head. 

“Um, yeah. We should get going…” (Y/N)’s eyes flashed to purple.

-

Warren saw (Y/N) in the afternoon. She had on sunglasses, and her hair was slightly messy. She looked hungover, but Warren knew that wasn’t her, partying her nights away, (Y/N) was the perfect princess— and Warren? Warren was John Bender from the breakfast club, except he wasn’t in a John Hughes movie, and he didn’t get the girl and have a half-assed happy ending. 

But back to (Y/N). 

“Hey, Shades.” 

“Hi.” She was curt. Did Warren do something wrong?

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah!” She seemed nervous.  “Why wouldn’t it be?” 

“You’re wearing sunglasses…” He pointed out. “Inside…” 

“Yeah?.... I’m just… I just…” She struggled to come up with an answer. 

“Hungover?” Warren suggested. 

“Pfft… No. I don’t… I don’t really…”

Warren nodded, “Right, right. I don’t really either, but I used to so…”

“I’m trying to hide my eyes.” 

Warren turned face to face with (Y/N), blinking in surprise. 

“Why?”

“Reasons…” 

“What kind of reasons?”

“I just don’t want people to read me like a book…” (Y/N) was lying. Partially. 

“Oh… I mean, not everyone knows what your eye colors mean.”

“Most people do. And if they don’t they ask.” 

Warren winced. She knew he asked about the pink eyes. She was going to think of him as some nosy, pitiful, boy with daddy issues.  “People are gonna think you’re hungover.”

“Three already asked.” 

Warren smiled to himself, he found it almost funny. “Why’re you trying to hide your emotions?”

“I like someone.” 

The three words froze in his mind. 

(Y/N) liked someone. Someone who was normal, probably. Someone the student body approved up. Somebody who hasn’t killed people and looks like a nightmare. 

“Oh.” 

He couldn’t see the concern in her eyes when his face obviously fell. 

“Yeah. I’ll um, I’ll see you later.”

Warren nodded awkwardly, “Yeah. See you later…”

-

The mall trip was awkward. (Y/N) had her glasses on still and half of her friends didn’t know why, and Warren was sulking because of (y/N)’s mystery lover.

“So, (Y/N)...” Peter drawled out. “What’s with the sunglasses? You trying to copy Scott?” 

She laughed a little at his joke. “Not really…” Peter raised his eyebrows, silently pressing for details. “I just don’t want people to see my eyes. That’s all.”

“Why? Is it because they’re… pink?”

Damnit, Peter! Warren cursed to himself. You had to bring it up. Rub it in my face that the Princess found her Prince Charming. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” (Y/N) glanced at Warren for a moment as he listened to Jubilee ramble on about some girl she met at a thrift store. 

“Why?... Because you’re in looove?” 

(Y/N) swatted his arm. “I am not!” 

“Oh, but I know that's not true.” Peter pouted and bat his eyes. 

“Fuck off.” 

“Woah! Didn’t know Snow White knew such naughty words.” 

Warren grimaced,  Peter was pushing her buttons and Warren wanted to strangle him, but he wasn’t that guy anymore. 

Borderline mullet, feathery white wings, and an adrenaline rush with the ability to punch everyone within five feet in front of him. 

Now he was a gang looking member, with trauma, and recovering from bad habits. Don’t mention that he was in love with Mother Nature.

Warren was so lost in his own words that he didn’t even notice Peter and (Y/N) bickering. 

“Stop it—“ 

The glasses fell. And then the unexpected happened. 

Jubilee stepped on the sunglasses. They cracked under her heel. 

“Oh shit! Aw, man!” Jubilee didn’t even care, they were her glasses. She got them at five below for three dollars two years ago. Jubilee picked up the broken shades and looked them over. 

“Oh well. They were cheap anyway.” Jubilee tossed the remains in the trash and didn’t even give it a second thought. 

Warren looked at (Y/N) and they made eye contact. Her eyes flashed purple, maroon, and they settled on pink. Full-on rose gold, soft-blushing pink. 

There were flowers in her hair and they retracted into buds— a defense mechanism— she was scared, but wouldn’t break away from him. 

Everyone looked at them like one looks at a car wreck or a burning building. 

Warren glared at them. “Alright, um, let’s go to Barnes and Noble…” Jubilee dragged everyone away, leaving Warre and (Y/N) behind. 

“Were you hiding your feelings from me?” 

She nodded, “I didn’t want you to know, though.”

It finally all clicked in Warren’s mind. She wanted to hide her emotions from him because she was into him, and everything he said about them “not being compatible, people don’t ship us, the kiss was only platonic”. “I get it.” 

“I want you, but I…” 

“I made up bullshit to push you away because I was scared… You’re way out of my league and I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t care…” She stepped closer to him. “I’d kiss you right now, but we’re in public…” Warren quickly cupped (Y/N)’s face and left a peck on her lips. 

Even a quick kiss from Warren was better than anything from a boy at a crappy house party.

“Do you want to go to find our friends?”

“Yeah, yeah. We probably should.” 

-

Warren wasn’t sure at what point her hand slipped into his and held on, but he didn’t move away either. 

Something in one of the shop windows caught his eye though. 

It was a book. Titled, Olympus Gods or something. It made a light go off in Warren’s mind, but he couldn’t figure it out. 

What, why does— Then he saw a Harry Potter toy. The three-headed dog, Fluffy or something. 

Who else had a three-headed dog? 

“Hades…” 

“Hmm?” She looked at Warren with confusion. 

“Hades and Persephone— plant goddess and goth guy.” 

She got the hint right away, and nudged his arm with her elbow, “Dork.” 

Warren blushed, “Yeah, yeah… just shut up,” He joked.

[anotheronechicagobog]

Ethan Choi x reader I Love and Lies

written by @anotheronechicagobog​

A/N: Swearing, cheating, jealousy, mention of sex, pregnancy, depression

A/N 2:  Requested by @raveenasblog​ Sorry this took so long, I haven’t been super motivated to write long works for a while.

You sighed as you collapsed back into your chair, the force causing you to wheel backwards into your desk. “Ow, fuck.” You collected yourself before someone from the team saw, they’d never let you live it down. Just in time too, as Hailey burst through your door. “Y/L/N, we need you to run some financials and internet history on a suspect, David Johnson, male, 42, DOB 20th of September 1978.”

“Got it.”

“You okay? You seem down.”

“No, but it’s kind of personal. And not my personal, someone else’s personal. Long story.”

“Oh, well I hope it works out. And if you want to get your mind off it we can go out with Kim for deep dish.”

“Thanks.”

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After Crockett Marcel joined the staff at Gaffney medical centre you not only befriended him quickly, but you had also been trusted with a secret you couldn’t keep. April Sexton cheated on Ethan Choi with Crockett Marcel. Ethan was a tad older than you and a serious navy vet, so you didn’t have a lot to bond on at first. It was when you’d run into each other at your favourite Italian restaurant after you’d both been on god-awful blind dates that your friendship started to bloom. The restaurant had been packed and there wasn’t room for both of you to have a table to yourself. Even though you didn’t know each other well, it seemed like the best question. It became a tradition for you two to meet up after blind dates or setups and decompress. It helped deal with the fact that neither of you had friends good at match-making. 

When you’d caught April at that party your heart broke for one of your best friends. You didn’t know what to do. Ethan was in love with April, above all else, and he wanted to marry her. He’d asked for your and Maggie’s help with ring shopping. You knew that things were a little tense between them, but you’d always thought so highly of April, you never thought that she would do something like this. And to make things more difficult, you were under a bit of a time crunch. You had to tell him soon or he’d be upset that you’d kept it from him. And he had been deployed for two months with no contact. He was coming back in a couple of days and you weren’t sure how to break it to him. You knew that it would be best if April was the one who told him, but she’d told you outright days after it happened that Ethan didn’t need to know. But she was wrong and you knew it.

Ethan deserved to know that the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with and have children with ‘accidentally’ kissed someone else. It broke your heart but you had to tell him when he got back.

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

He’d been back for three days and still hadn’t seen you. Citing ‘April this’ and ‘April that’. And while you could understand one day, three was suspicious, and you knew that April was trying to keep him away from you. You were furious, how dare she cheat on him and then try to cover it up. 

You’d dropped by med later that day when you texted Ethan and he actually said yes. Apparently April had to work a double so he was free from her clutches. When you arrived at the entrance in your car to pick him up it was quite clear that she was trying to stop him, visibly panicking and grabbing onto him. 

“Ethan are you ready to go?”

“NO! He- He’s not going. He... Is going to work another shift. Or go home. Just... He is NOT going anywhere with you!”

“Why not, April?”

“Because... Because she... She’s in love with you!”

“What?”

“You think I’m what?”

“Yes! She told me at Crockett and Maggie’s party after you left! She said that she was going to try to come between us!”

“I did not say that. I saw April kissing the new doctor, Crockett Marcel, at the party he and Maggie threw. I tried talking to her about it, but she said that she and Marcel didn’t think you needed to know.”

“I can’t believe you Y/N.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard him Y/N.”

“I didn’t say any of that. I don’t love you, Ethan, not romantically at least, she is lying. I know that this is a she said, she said situation. We’ve been so close for so long, I wouldn’t do anything to cause you unnecessary hurt or drama. You have to know that.”

“She accepted my proposal, Y/N, and she’s been trying to warn me for days. I didn’t listen to her because we’ve been friends for so long, but you coming at her with an outright lie just proves she’s right. I can’t believe you would do this.”

“But I didn’t.”

“I don’t believe you. I... I am going to go home, and I think you should stay away from us Y/N.” He stepped beside April, slinging his arm around her waist and staring you down in that cold, navy, disapproving way. It physically hurt your heart and you could feel yourself gasping for breath. 

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

You don’t really remember driving to your apartment, but you do remember Ethan not leaving April’s side until you were in your car and driving away. Your body shuddered and convulsed as you tried to muffle your own cries. Ethan had spent weeks searching for the perfect ring, smiled dreamily at the thought of having children with her. It ripped you to pieces that April threw it all away and that Ethan didn’t believe you. After all the years you’d been friends, all the time spent together, and he didn’t trust you. He didn’t hear the wavering and panic in April’s voice, the floundering in her normally collected sentences, and the visible queues that showed she was grasping at straws. 

Three heavy knocks later and Hailey was picking your door lock. You really need to give her a key.  “Y/N how are you? I heard what happened.”

“Seriously? Everyone knows already? I knew that everyone would hear about some variation of what happened, but it hasn’t even been an hour!... Does everyone know?”

“Yes. I heard about it from Mouch when he dropped some lunch off for Platt.”

“Oh my god... Do you believe me?” You must have looked so pathetic, like Bambi asking for his mother. “Yes. I know how much his friendship means to you. And I know that you aren’t in love with him.”

“I’ll take the deep dish pizza now if you don’t mind.”

“Kim’s bringing it. And red velvet cake.”

“You guys are the best.”

“We know, now where did you put the tequila you got from Mexico?”

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Molly’s had become your favourite pub since you first got the job of ‘thank the heavens that Ruzek doesn’t have to do tech stuff anymore’ in intelligence. The drinks were good, the food was good, and the staff was always friendly. Since your confrontation with Ethan and April, you’d avoided going. Any time you’d seen Sylvie and Emily at spin class they shot you awkward glances and actually asked you what you thought about the weather. While they’d stumbled through an explanation that they weren’t taking sides you just wished a hole would open up underneath you. You stuck close to Kim after that. Med as a whole was a mess of hatred and anger towards you. Apparently Doris had even gathered some nurses together to refuse to treat you if you ever came in. And they were always making snappy comments to the rest of the intelligence unit whenever they had to be there, and Jay got into a fight with Ethan. You’d apologized profusely to your team but they would hear none of it, they believed you.

It had been three months and you were feeling so lonely and depressed. You’d lost over half of your friends in one day, you were isolated and exhausted. You worked long hours and had no one to decompress with, Trudy was still setting you up on terrible blind dates, and while you’d been eating there by yourself since Ethan and April started dating, being alone and feeling alone were two different things. Now you were in a rut. Just floating through existence. And you didn’t hate it. You didn’t feel anything actually, and while it didn’t scare you, it did scare your remaining friends.

You would see a therapist, but because American medical coverage is so screwed up your insurance only approves doctors from MED unless it’s an emergency and MED isn’t the closest hospital. So despite the fact that all your co-workers were on edge worrying about your mental health and how it affects the rest of your well-being, they couldn’t pressure or push you into getting help because there were some doctors and nurses who had outright said they wouldn’t help you. No matter how scared they got or how tempting jumping off a building sounded to you. 

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

Someone was banging at your door. At three in the morning. If this had happened four months ago you’d be grabbing your bat. Now, you were too tired to give a fuck. The knocking was staggered, in rhythm and noise level. So whoever was on the other side of that door was probably drunk out of their mind. You went a little out of your mind when you saw the man standing in front of you. The man you’d gone out of your way two avoid since his and Maggie’s party. Crockett Marcel. Red eyes, puffy cheeks, slurring nonsense and all.

“I-- M, *hic* sww. I srry. Sorry. Kigg.”

“Why don’t you come in?” You helped an incredibly inebriated Crockett Marcel to your couch. “I sy- swww-”

“Go to sleep doc, you need it.” You moved a garbage can next to the couch and put a blanket over him. One of your best ones, soft and fluffy. One tall glass of water and a couple of Tylenol were placed on the side table near his head before you went back to bed. This’ll be fun to talk about in the morning. 

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

The morning arrived with the smell of drunken sweat in your living room. Your late-night visitor was on the precipice of waking up, rolling around and fidgeting, trying to get comfy. Though you suspected the hangover was hindering that. You sighed, deciding that you’d wake him up after you finished the pancakes. Sizzling butter and batter wafted into your nose as you carefully placed chocolate chips in the image of a smiley face, hoping that would at least stave off the awkwardness. Crockett kept swearing in French and moved to cover his eyes with a pillow. You laughed as you flipped the last pancakes onto one main plate. Walking over to your guest you pondered how to wake him up. Screaming in his ear? No, too cruel. Pulling away the pillow? Still too mean. Telling him you’ll eat all the pancakes if he doesn’t get up? Perfect. “Marcel, if you’re not up soon, I’m gonna eat all the pancakes I made. And you can’t get mad at me for it.” You sauntered away with a smile on your face, silently hoping that he wouldn’t wake up so you could have all those pancakes to yourself. Soft and buttery, slathered with Canadian maple syrup.

Unfortunately, that was all it took for him to get up. Groaning and moving sluggishly, he made his way to your kitchen island and sat on the other side of the corner. “Thank you. I’m sorry about last night, I just... I feel really bad.”

“About what in particular?”

“Kissing a woman who was already in a relationship, not saying anything about it to the rest of the hospital, causing you a lot of trouble, and... Falling in love with the woman who’s life I ruined.” You froze mid-chew. His troubled eyes were boring into you. “Me?” While your question was muffled by the combination of pancake, syrup, and butter it got across. “Yeah,” he chuckled and smiled softly at you before tensing, “don’t worry, I know you don’t love me. How could you after what I did? Plus you’re in love with Choi-”

“No I’m not. That’s just something April said to cover up what happened.”

“Do you really not see it or are you just denying it?”

“I’m not denying anything, Ethan is- was. Was one of my best friends. And I miss him.”

“Miss him how?”

“He has such a calming energy, like the eye in the storm. Yes, you know it’s gonna get crazy again, but you appreciate the peace it brings you. Even if it’s only for a few moments. He was always so serious, which I like cause I’m serious too. The only jokes he knows how to make are puns, everyone else hates them but I love them. Ethan... He makes me smile, my life hasn’t been the same since he left it. It’s... duller without him. My heart physically aches most times.”

The realization was sudden and terrifying.

“Oh my gods...”

“There it is.”

“I am in love with Ethan.”

“Finally.”

“I am a horrible person.”

“Wait, what? How do you figure that out?”

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

The week following your revelation was hard. You felt terrible, despite Crockett’s assurances, you worried that you insisted on telling Ethan the truth because of your feelings. While your head knew that wasn’t true, that you were happy to see Ethan happy, your heart worried. You didn’t know what to think of yourself if you had subconsciously ruined your best friend’s relationship.

Intelligence had also caught a hard case. Cases involving kids rarely ended well and since this one involved a child trafficking ring and identifying all of the perpetrators and victims, your days had been filled with the screams and cries of abused, exploited and tortured children. You felt like your soul needed to be deep cleansed. You’d found all the children and identified two hundred and thirty-three children so far, another eighty-seven to go. Everyone, including Voight, had been much gentler around you. Normally he hated going down to your office because you’d decorated it with colour, things that make you happy, and just generally didn’t look like the office of the tech expert of Chicago’s most elite law enforcement team, but he’d been coming down to check on you and drag you upstairs for food and water. It had been a nice reminder that you weren’t completely alone, and that not all of the world was built with evil and fear. 

“Y/L/N, we got ‘em. And SVU ID’d the rest of the kids. Families have been called. You should go home, get some sleep. And the meticulous notes you keep qualify as a report, so you’re done. Don’t argue. And eat a vegetable.”

You snorted and rolled your eyes. “Yes, dad.”

“Don’t use that tone with me young lady.” A smirk briefly played on his lips. You laughed, grateful for the position he had in your life, and walked up to the bullpen with him. When you reached the top of the stairs you were greeted by chaos. And not the usual chaos. Jay looked like he wanted to punch a hole in a wall, Hailey was being held back by Adam and Kevin as she cursed and tried to claw at whatever was in front of her, Rojas and Kim were debating the pros and cons of using a police baton, Trudy was pinching her nose and looking like she was restraining herself from shooting everyone, and the SVU agents looked confused and a little afraid honestly. “What’s going on here?” Everyone parted like the red sea for their boss to reveal Ethan Choi. “You have got a lot of nerve to show up here.”

“I’m just here to talk to Y/N. To... Apologize.” You could tell by his sunken features, red eyes, and bloody knuckles that he knew. He knew that you told the truth. Pain danced around like a musical behind his eyes. No matter how empty he had left your life you never wanted him to feel the way he clearly did. However, you weren’t in any mood to deal with this. “Guys, let go of him, you’re scaring our guests. Ethan, can we talk tomorrow? It’s been a long day and I’m really tired.” You didn’t even wait for a response, just walked out from behind Voight and right past everyone, only stopping to say goodnight to Trudy on your way out.

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

The next morning you woke up... Warm. It was the first time you’d felt something other than emptiness since the whole debacle began. Your apartment smelled good, like fried butter. You quirked your eyebrow, hearing sizzling coming from the direction of your kitchen. You doubted a criminal would break in just to cook breakfast and only three people had a key to your place. Hailey, Ethan, and Voight, given to them in that order. Hailey only really knew how to cook greek food, Voight never used it unless it was an emergency, and despite all that had gone between you two, Ethan never gave his copy back. Leaving your aluminum hello kitty baseball bat by your bed you make your way to the kitchen. Ethan stood in a Navy t-shirt and jeans in front of your stove. Three pans in front of him, one with scrambled eggs, hash browns, and pancakes. “Morning Ethan.” His head slowly turned to meet yours. “Good morning Y/N... Uh, it is tomorrow...”

“It is. What’s for breakfast?”

A slight smile picked up, some weight lifting off his shoulders. “My specialty. You up for it?”

“Always. Uh, Crockett told me. I’m sorry, I want you to know that I did believe you, I just-”

“‘Didn’t want to.”

“Yeah. I’m also sorry about the treatment you received from everyone, really. I told April not to involve anyone else, but she started screaming it from the rooftops the second she could. I know that there were people who didn’t want to take sides but they ended up doing so anyway. I’m sorry about that too. I’ve heard a lot, I know how isolated you became, so I know that it will be hard to forgive me. If there’s anything you want, anything I can do, please tell me. I’m sorry.”

“Did you make enough breakfast for both of us?”

“Of course.” Smiles were met with smiles as Ethan placed all of the hot food on serving plates.

“So now that you know, what’s happening with you and...”

“I broke up with April. I’ve known for a couple of weeks actually, I just... I tried to work it out with her, tried to move past it, but I couldn’t. It was too much, I was too betrayed. Not only did she cheat on me with a man who had just moved to this region of the country, she lied about it, and did everything she could to frame and torture you for what she did. I just woke up one day and I knew I was done. We’d been trying to have a baby but when I stopped focusing solely on having a baby I realized that I didn’t want that with her. She clearly doesn’t love me if she was able to do what she did, and not only would a baby not be able to fix our relationship, but it would be cruel to drag a child into that.”

“I never wanted to hurt you, Ethan, I just thought that you deserved to know, and I’m so sorry about the pain that this situation has dolled on you.”

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

Two months had passed and you were re-adjusting to having all of your friends back. From most you’d received an apology and a drink at Molly’s (that had not been a fun hangover), from Sylvie and Nat you had been given homemade cookies in lieu of alcohol, but for the most part laughter and a hug was more than enough. There were few though who didn’t apologize to you and glared at you with hate-filled eyes. You had expected April to be doing that, but most of the nurses were sticking to their guns with her. It didn’t matter that Crockett had come forward, or that she’d admitted it had happened and that she’d lied about you, or that you weren’t the only person who saw that kiss as it turned out, they held you responsible for April’s reputation taking a hit and Chexton’s break up. You had a hard time caring, though. April made a mistake and no matter how much she lied or tried to hide it, it still came out. It wasn’t your fault that she cheated on Ethan, or that she had actively made everything worse.

Ethan and you had been making up for lost time, going to the zoo and aquarium, binging Grand Tour on Amazon Prime, and eating at your favourite Italian restaurant. It felt good to get back into your rhythm, having an unofficial schedule to organize your time together. Today Ethan was waiting for you to pick him up from work so that you both could go see the new baby otter at the aquarium. You had pulled up in front of Gaffney and texted him saying that you were outside and waiting. Just after you’d clicked send there was a knock on the window beside you. You jumped, whipping your head around to see April staring at you with her arms crossed and her chest heaving. Steeling yourself, you exited your car. “Hi April.”

“Really? That’s all you can say? You ruined my life and all you can say is hi?”

“April, I’m sorry for how hard everything must be for you right now, but I didn’t ruin anything. That was all you.”

“If you had just left it alone everything would be fine!”

“April-”

“NO! If you hadn’t insisted on telling him I wouldn’t have worked so hard to make everyone hate you, everything would have been fine. But you just had to go and destroy everything!” April started to cry, tears flowing down her cheeks as she hiccuped and wrapped her arms around herself. You couldn’t bring yourself to be angry, your lives were always filled with drama and pain, and sometimes you felt like you lived in a procedural soap drama, so you couldn’t blame her for holding onto her happiness for dear life. You sighed and reached for her, “come here.”

The two of you stood like that for several minutes until Ethan approached you both with his eyebrows raised. “April.”

“Ethan! You have to know that I never wanted to hurt you, never wanted you to find out!”

“... That’s terrible, April. Look, I’m done. We’re done. Please, just let go.”

“No, I can’t! I love you!”

“No, you don’t. If you loved me you wouldn’t have kissed someone else, or lied about it, or tried to silence and then blame Y/N. What we had, it wasn’t love. We loved each other once, but not in a long time.”

“Ethan-”

“Y/N and I have plans, April.” April shoved you off of her and rocketed away from you violently, sprinting to the ED as fast as she can.

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

You were on a date. Sort of. It had been a year and a few months, close to two years, since Ethan and April split and everyone knew the truth. Hailey, Kim, and Vanessa were constantly on you about dating, setting you up onblind dates, signing you up for dating apps, and introducing you to random guys they happen to meet who are single and cute. Ethan quietly asked why you didn’t just date someone to get them to stop. Crockett (who, much to Ethan’s dismay, you’d become good friends with) laughed and offered his services as your boyfriend with a wink. He meant it as a joke. It was a joke. But now, as you were standing by his side in a gown with his arm around your waist, you wondered if he actually was joking, or if he was flirting and you just didn’t pick up on it. When the fancy schmancy business guys left Crockett turned to you with a weary smile. “Thanks, again for coming with me. Goodwin would’ve had my head if I came alone.”

“Well, hey, like you said, this’ll get the girls off my back.”

“I have to admit, I did have an ulterior motive for asking you- don’t panic, I’m not going to profess my love for you or anything. I’ve moved on from you actually. The ulterior motive was to make Choi jealous.”

“What?”

“Look, you love him, and he loves you. I can see it, and so can everyone else. However, it has become apparent that neither of you plan to do anything about it. It has also become apparent that Ethan does not like it when I... do anything that involves you being near me honestly. Least of all that we’re actually friends. He gets jealous, very easily. I was hoping that you being my date for the evening would make him do something about it. Plus, you’re gorgeous and intelligent, the perfect companion for another dull gala.”

“Crockett, he doesn’t-”

“He does. Even April sees it.”

“Crockett-”

“Ah! Dr. Marcel, there you are. I have been looking for you, I want to discuss the hybrid OR project you’re working on with Dr. Rhodes.”

“Of course. This is my date for the evening, Y/N Y/L/N, she is a senior investigative digital analyst with the Chicago Police department.”

“A pleasure.” 

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

All in all, you’d had fun at the gala. The booze was free, so was the delicious food, and while you didn’t like dressing to the nines all the time, it was fun to do for one night. The gala had been held at one of the fancier, older, expensive hotels on the waterfront so you and Crockett snapped some amazing pictures. Ethan didn’t do a lot on social media, it just wasn’t his thing, but he texted you seconds from when the first photo was posted to tell you that you looked stunning. You were a bit disappointed, hoping that Crockett had been telling the truth when he said that Ethan loves you. You sighed and shook your head before exiting your office to grab a snack from the breakroom. You didn’t have a case so it had just been a paperwork day, Hailey held up her mug for you to grab as you walked past her desk to the breakroom. You grabbed a bag of chips for yourself and had just finished Hailey’s coffee when your phone rang. “Hello?”

“Hey girl, look I’d love to chat but this is a business call.”

“Oh?”

“Ethan and Crockett got into a screaming match outside of the ED, Ethan got so angry and went to storm off but he turned around and ran into a concrete pillar.”

“Oh my god.”

“He’s fine, got a few scrapes, but he seems really out of it, we don’t think he should be driving. You’re his emergency contact, can you come get him?”

“Yeah, I’ll just let Voight know, I’ll be there soon.”

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

Maggie met your eyes and pointed to a room that had the curtains closed. You darted in, finding an annoyed looking Ethan lying on the bed with his arms crossed. There were a couple of light scrapes but no other visible injuries. You’d gotten him back to your apartment easily enough but he was completely silent. “Hey-”

“Do you love him?”

“What?”

“Do you love Crockett?”

“No! He’s a great friend but he’s not my type.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Where is all this coming from? And why did you get into an argument with Crockett?”

“I, I have been going out of my mind since I found out that you were going with Crockett to that fundraising gala. I can’t lose you! And especially not to him.”

“You’re not going to lose me, Ethan. Goodwin told him he had to bring a date and he knew that the girls were breathing down my neck. It wasn’t a big deal, okay? Ethan why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because I love you. So much.” You didn’t respond with words, just latched your lips onto his. The rest of the night was filled with nudity, moans, groans, ecstacy, and whispers of love and promise.

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

Two months later you were being dragged into the ED by a worried Ethan. Before started dating him you’d been friends with him long enough to know that just going along with whatever he needs to feel better is the best option.

“Nat, something’s wrong with Y/N.”

“What makes you say that?”

“She’s been throwing up at all times of day for the past week, can’t hold down food, and she fainted this morning.”

“Alright, let’s get you in a room. Maggie?”

“Treatment four.”

Once you were in bed and had blood drawn you took Ethan’s hand. “I’m fine. You don’t need to worry.”

“Worrying about you is my job as your boyfriend.”

“Sorry to interrupt, but I have news. Good news.”

You and Ethan looked at each other as you clasped your hands together and sat up straighter. “You’re pregnant. Eight weeks along by the looks of it. Congrats guys, you’re going to be parents.”

Ethan sprung up and started kissing you all over your face. You had never been this happy in your life. Suddenly he stopped. “Are you okay with this? Being pregnant? I don’t want you to feel pressured-” You grabbed his collar and pulled his face to yours. Kissing him deeply, and lovingly. “Ethan, I am so happy. I have always wanted to be a mother, and now I have the chance. With the man I love. This is the best day of my life.”

“Have I told you how much I love you today?”

“Yes, but I’d be overjoyed to hear it again. And again, for the rest of our lives.

[gothic-safari-clown]

The Mind’s Power Over the Body

Part 27: With Friends Like These

Story summary: They only ever had each other. It had been that way since high school, ever since Elianna transferred to dreary Arlen and took Jonathan under her wing. They go separate ways for college, and when they're reunited at Arkham Asylum professionally, Elianna comes to find that they've both changed during their time separated. Can she look past the promise of danger and stay by Jonathan's side as they slide further and further into the darkness while she grapples to come to terms with the truth about herself? Can she accept what needs to be done in order to hold onto the only person who holds any meaning in her life? This is a very self-indulgent AU that draws from several different canons of the DCU and ignoring others, starting in the Batman Begins Nolanverse. This will follow the plot of the movie, although the timeline has been very slightly tweaked.

Word count: 1556

Sorry it’s been so long! I’m a full time employee again, so it’s been hard to find the time to actually sit down and work on anything. Plus, we’re getting to the end of TMPOtB! Make sure to keep an eye out for the sequel Why I Do What I Do, and I hope you enjoy!

It had been four weeks. Two since ex-warden Sharpe had disappointed them. Regular police had begun to avoid them, and they had amassed a new following of goons. Even found a semi-permanent hideout.

Though, for all of their success, Jonathan had begun to sink lower and lower into himself. In fact, more and more often, he preferred to let Scarecrow be in charge. The only sure-fire way to keep him around for more than two hours together was when more toxin needed to be made.

At first, Scarecrow had been thrilled to be in charge. He had gotten quite a kick from going on sprees, terrorizing the public, especially if it might help them find Elianna. Jonathan wanted to find her for sentimental reasons, but Scarecrow?

Scarecrow wanted her back for possessive reasons. But, if he thought about it, he supposed the history behind their motivations was the same—companionship, kindness, loyalty. Jonathan seemed to crave it, but only from her.

But the straw man felt that it was something they were entitled to after all those years of consistency from her. Oh, he cared for her wellbeing, sure, but only because no one else would give them anything. As such, no one would ever be allowed to lay a hand on her again. But, more than anything, he craved attention, and despite Jonathan's endless warnings not to give it to him, El had always satisfied that need with a strange sense of fulfillment. The world owed them something, and she was the only person who would give them anything.

She was theirs.

So, when after weeks of rampage and fearmongering had yielded no results, Scarecrow found himself in a similar stupor to Jonathan, although it affected him differently. He seemed forever bored, irritated, and volatile.

It wasn't just Jonathan and Scarecrow who were affected by Elianna's absence either. The goons that had flocked to them (some out of fear, some out of necessity, some out of ambition) had very quickly come to regret the decision. Violent outbursts were often expected, and the men had had to take measures in order to keep themselves out of the line of fire.

Regardless, it was becoming more clear day by day that the longer El remained unaccounted for, nobody would last very long.

So when one day a young blonde tentatively approached the base of operations, folder in hand, asking for "doctah Crane," claiming to have an idea for where to find the elusive woman, Axel was more than happy to tell his men to stand down and let her through.

"He's upstairs, but it ain't the doctor, so don't call him that," he advised. "I'll take you up and stay in the room with you, but you gotta just give him the file and get out." The blonde nodded, a sad look on her face. "Did you know him before?"

"Yeah. We worked together at the Asylum. We weren't friendly or nothin', but he was always polite. I was—am, friends with El. I want her back too, so I started askin' my friends from med school to keep an eye out. So when I got this, I thought the best way to get her back was to bring it here." Axel nodded.

"Alright, well let me take a look. If it doesn't look good to him, he's gonna get angry and that won't be good for any of us." The blonde nodded and handed over the folder with the file inside.

Some of the information had been redacted (for legal reasons, no doubt) but as Axel scanned the paper, he felt a weight being slowly lifted.

Patient name [REDACTED]. Female, 30 years old, red hair, green eyes. Transferred to [REDACTED] from Gotham County General. Admitted with an unknown substance present which affected brain function. Severe injuries to full body. The patient was detoxed and consented to a medically-induced coma in order to treat mild trauma to the brain.

Notes: Patient has made a swift recovery, but will likely be admitted to psych. Demonstates an unhealthy obsession with "scarecrow," which has caused multiple outbursts against personnel.

The name of whoever had provided this information had been blacked out, but it seemed likely that this information was what they had been looking for. Looking up from the file, Axel was met with big blue eyes staring up at him hopefully.

"Alright, this looks good," he sighed, and the blonde was visibly relieved. "Come on, you should be the one to give this to him," he handed back the folder and jerked his head for her to follow. "You know where she's at, right? That information was taken out." She bobbed her head, anxiously rubbing her thumb over the spine of her folder.

"Yeah, the girl that sent this to me had her place of work listed on her Facebook."

"Good."

The pair walked together through the previously abandoned building, up two flights of stairs and down a series of halls.

"Do you all live here?" The young doctor asked, gazing around the environment as they walked.

"Sort of. All of us take shifts staying in groups here to keep trespassers out. The big man," here, Axel pointed to the door at the end of the hallway as they approached, "has a place in the Narrows so that he doesn't have to stay if he doesn't want. Between the two of us, it's a much better gig when he's not around." She nodded in agreement. Based on the news reports, that was to be expected.

Reaching the door, Axel held up a finger for the woman to wait as he knocked. "Boss? There's a woman here with some information. I looked it over, I think it's her." It was silent on the other side of the door for a moment before a muffled voice told them to come in.

Axel opened the door with a pointed look at the woman, letting her enter first.

The man sitting at the desk inside certainly looked like Jonathan, but it didn't take Harley long to notice the changes in him. Jonathan always kept himself clean-shaven and carried himself with an air of uprightness. Scarecrow didn't seem to share those concerns. Stubble had been allowed to grow along his jaw, and he was slouched into his chair like he was bored.

When he caught sight of her, there was a glimmer of recognition in his eyes before a lackluster grin broke over his face. "Doctor Quinzel, I don't think we've been formally introduced." The sentence was accompanied by what was surely meant to be an intimidating chuckle. He just didn't have the energy.

"Scarecrow," she greeted, unable to help the pity that crept into her heart. "I...I guess I'll just get right down to business. I know you're looking for El, and you haven't been able to find her in the city, so I reached out to some people that I know who work in neighboring cities, and I think I found her." She stepped forward, folder outstretched for him to take.

He frowned, skeptical of the information, but took the folio anyway with a telling look at Axel: if this isn't her, you're the one to face the consequences.

But scanning the memo through narrowed eyes, his attitude slowly changed. Suddenly, there was no way that it wasn't her, and a sudden urgency took over everything as he stood.

"Where." Not a question, a demand. Harley quickly gave him the city and hospital, startled by the abrupt turnaround. "Good," seeming to briefly forget that she was even there, he turned to Axel with a sense of urgency. "Get our best boys ready, we're going now." The thug nodded and began to pull Harley out of the room before the voice stopped them again. "Harley," it barked, and the blonde's head swiveled to look at him again. "You know what's going to happen to that hospital. To your friend that works there."

"Yes, I do." She had known from the beginning. It had been so many years since she had even thought about the other woman, and they hadn't been close to begin with. To be perfectly honest, Harley wasn't even sure if she had ever liked her to begin with.

It made it easier to make this decision, although realizing that she even could make that decision had been surprising.

Scarecrow seemed to understand and went back to studying the file further, leaving the pair to leave the room, closing the door behind them.

"You did good, doc," Axel assured the blonde as they retreated down the hall. "But if it isn't her somehow..."

"I know," Harley gulped. She had seen plenty on the news of what happened to people who let Scarecrow down in this particular search.

Sensing the woman's apprehension, Axel spoke again. "I don't think you have anything to worry about. Who else could that be, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right." She nodded. "I'm gonna get outta your hair now. Good luck, all of you. bring her home, yeah?"

"You got it, doc."

With that, Harley left and Axel went about rounding up the troops. He wasn't exactly looking forward to the havoc they were about to wreck upon the unsuspecting hospital, but ultimately having El back would be best for everyone involved.

For everyone's sake, it'd better be our girl.

[zwritesstuff]

Writing a First Draft

I’ve seen a lot of advice posts that encourage writing a “bad” first draft, or saying that the point of the first draft isn’t to be “good” just to be done, but I have yet to see any examples of what that actually means (which is unfortunate because for a lot of first-time writers that may just mean that their best effort on a first draft isn’t “good enough”), so that’s what I’m here for! The ultimate advocate of ugly writing, babey! Let’s write some “bad” first drafts!!

Forewarning that this is going to be difficult for you perfectionists out there (same hat tho!!!), but really, if you’re looking to finish a first draft within a reasonable time frame (and not continue to rewrite the beginning 50 times to get there, only to be disappointed when the next scenes aren’t as “good” as the beginning), then this really is the way to go. Perfectionism comes in super handy in later drafts, but it’s a real burden in the first draft, and I really really relate to that. What I find that helps keep my perfectionism in check while I’m drafting is to keep a separate Word doc open (or a notebook and pen at hand) to jot down new ideas or things that have changed throughout the draft. Putting a page number down next to the notation will save your life as well. Your future self will thank you!

Okay, so let’s get into it! You have an idea, and you need to get that first draft out before you lose motivation or move on to a shiny new WIP idea. What’s that first draft going to look like?

Write the scenes you’re excited about first. If you’re someone who, like myself, needs to write things in chronological order, then write these scenes in chronological order - but! if you have the conclusion figured out, then write it now, yes, even before that one bit in the middle you’re not sure about. Is it likely that some details in these scenes will change as you keep writing different parts of the book? Yes! Do it anyway! Anything you write will be helpful for later drafts, so write those scenes!!! Plus, if you start with what you’re excited about, you’ll want to keep writing even after they’re finished, because your brain will just keep generating other super cool ideas for those in-between scenes. And yeah, there will definitely be filler scenes to write, but you can probably worry about those in the next draft.

If you’re on a roll, don’t worry about punctuation, grammar, or spelling. I mean it! If those red squiggles in Word bother you, turn them off (they’re really only semi-helpful for editing, and we’re not doing that right now). If you write faster and think better using “internet grammar” (minimal/excessive punctuation, no capitalization, weird spelling, etc.), then do that! If it helps you get words on the page, it’s worth doing.

If you’re not on a roll, try putting some space between what you’ve written and what you need to write. For me, that frequently means hitting enter (even mid-sentence if I suddenly get stuck), typing “monkey,” and then hitting enter again, as many times as it takes for my brain to reboot and remember what the hell I was going for. If that means I have a chain of 20 monkeys in the middle of a paragraph, so be it. They get to hang out there until I come back in draft two and delete them. 

I’ve also written “uhhhhhh” and “oh fuck now what” several times in a first draft. It happens. It’s easier to write in a way that mirrors your thought process, so just do what works. Use memes in your prose to keep it moving - it’ll make future you laugh when you go back through on draft two!

Don’t be afraid to change major pieces of plot - but don’t you dare go back and rewrite earlier pieces to match! Let’s say you’re at the end of act one and you revealed some tragic detail about your MC’s backstory, but now you’re in the middle of act two and you’ve realized that it no longer fits your idea of MC and you no longer want it to be true. Simply make a brief note of it and keep writing like that scene in act one never happened. Deleting, rewriting, and repurposing are all for later drafts! The goal on the first draft is literally just to reach the end - and it’s inevitable that you’ll find and change the story along the way.

Forget about foreshadowing. No matter how detailed of an outliner you are, the fact is that in the first draft you really don’t actually know what’s going to happen yet in your book (see point 5). So forget about trying to foreshadow. Spell out what’s happening plain as day - because the first draft is just one long exposition dump to aide you in future drafts. If you get halfway through and a sudden twist or weird piece of backstory jumps out at you, write it in as if you had foreshadowed, even though you haven’t yet. Make a note of it, and maybe even note where you could foreshadow this in the next few drafts, but keep moving forward. 

Changing perspectives is fine even if it goes against how you know you want your final draft to be. If you have a scene in mind that you know you need to include, but you have no idea how MC would react during it, but you know how your side character would react, write the scene from the side character’s perspective. You can think about MC’s POV in that scene later - again, the point is just to get it written, so if switching POVs gets you through the scene, do it.

Ultimately, this is what people mean when they say your first draft is going to be “ugly.” It’s going to be a little (or a lot) messy. But that’s okay. The struggle of the beginning writer is realizing that your first draft is not going to look like anything you’ve read before - because those are final drafts. And to the gifted writers who breezed through school (like I did) by submitting their first draft essays for grading - that’s not going to work here. Every time you rewrite a piece, it gets better. If you try to make your first draft perfect, you will just end up frustrated and disappointed at the time you wasted, because you’ll end up reworking 80% of it or more in the subsequent drafts. Your writing style will change and improve, and your knowledge will grow, and every time you revisit a draft, that will be reflected.

So write that ugly draft. Insert so many author’s notes mid-paragraph that you look like an early 2000s fanfic writer. Contradict previous scenes like you’re constructing the most elaborate Winchester Mystery House -esque draft the world has ever seen, complete with paragraphs that lead to nowhere and mysterious monkey chains cutting sentences in half. 

And then, in the second draft, make it look as though the first draft never happened.

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Fifty

Table of Content or Part Forty-Nine

Wattpad

Word count: 4.9K

Warning(s): Explicit language, Violence, drug abuse

A/N: so this is annoying, I know, but as I was writing this chapter, I may or may not have made a plot hole that I went back in the story and filled in so it wouldn't contradict with this chapter, I think most of you will know what it is, I'd tell you now but I don't wanna spoil the chapter. Anyway, sorry if that bugs you guys but I was writing and it just flowed out but I did go back so the chapter it was first brought up in matches what happens in this one so it's not confusing for future readers.

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"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, dear Nikki, happy birthday to you!" We sing as Nikki's about to blow the candles out of his cake.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Steven interjects, holding a joint above one of the lit candles, lighting the end of it on fire. "Okay."

He takes a drag of his blunt as Nikki blows his candles out, Tommy patting his shoulders.

"A whole twenty-eight years and you're still kickin', man." Tommy tells him and he grins.

"Who'da thought." Nikki adds, laughing, taking a sip of his homemade margarita.

"Okay, who wants cake?" I ask them, getting up from Tansy's dining room table to go get a knife from the kitchen.

I come back in to see Nikki and Tommy cutting at random parts of the cake with their switch blades.

"Guys, c'mon." Sharise scolds them, lightly hitting their arms before plucking the cake and icing covered blades from their hands.

"Boo, mom." Nikki sarcastically lets out with Tommy and Steven both echoing in "boo!"

"Hey, you're the good child." Sharise snaps her fingers at Stevie. "Don't let Chip and Dale contaminate you." She states to him, motioning to Nikki and Tommy, brushing past me to go to the kitchen to clean their switch blades off.

I give pieces of cake out, which isn't that much work since there's only seven of us in total: Nikki, me, Vince, Sharise, Tommy, Steven and Tansy, and once we're done eating, Tansy's insisting on presents.

"Alright, time for presents in the living room." She claps her hands together and we all head there, Nikki falling back on a couch and pulling me onto his lap.

"I'm gonna let you open 'em, babe." He tells me, patting at my hips where I shift to rest on one of his spread knees.

"Nikki, opening them is the best part." I argue.

"Which is exactly why I'm letting you do it." He replies, smiling tightly, but I know it's really because he doesn't feel like doing it.

I just roll my eyes playfully and Tansy organizes the presents around us.

"Okay, great and mighty one, which present would you like to be opened first?" I ask him and he leans over a little to see past me to examine the various shapes and sizes of his gifts.

"I want...that one." He points in the direction of a small, rectangle shaped box wrapped in news paper and Tansy hands it to me.

"This one's from me and Stevie." She adds.

"Thanks." I tell them, taking it from her and I dig into the paper and unravel it, seeing a black guitar pick, with a tiny name etched into it with white ink, I have to squint to make it out, but when I see who it's from, I know Nikki will love it.

I hand it to him, and he struggles to get his eyes to focus before looking at Tansy.

"Marc Bolan?" He asks her, impressed. "I didn't even think you knew who Marc Bolan was." He says to Tansy.

"I didn't until he died and Vince went into a depression over it for a few months." She explains. "But Stevie and I were thinking of what to get you, and then Doc helped me get in contact with his wife earlier this year and she still has his things and sent us that for you." She explains.

"Aww, that's cool." Sharise pipes.

"Guys, you didn't have to do that." I state.

"Aw, man, thanks, guys, I really like it." Nikki tells the two blondes, keeping himself from tearing up as he plays it off by clearing his throat, handing the pick to Tommy and Vince so they can look at it.

"You're welcome, dude." Steven replies.

"Alright, next is from..." Tansy looks at the name tag attached to a box wrapped in black paper. "...Tommy and Heather."

"It's kinda for you and Vivian." Tommy tells us. "We were gonna wait for Christmas but I figured it'd be better for your birthday."

"Is it raunchy?" I ask him to make sure.

"No." He assures me, smiling excitedly as I start unwrapping it.

I get it unwrapped and open the box to see a thickly packed book, and open it up to see an old picture of Nikki and I, visibly scowling at each other, looking like we're in the middle of an argument. He's in one of their old stage outfits they played the clubs in, in their early days and his black hair is completely covering his eyes, while I'm not wearing a trace of makeup, my hair pulled into a ponytail and my middle finger in his face.

Under the picture reads "The Whisky, '81."

I start flipping through it, seeing more candids and pictures of the two of us, featuring the guys, Tansy, their girlfriends at the time, groupies, Ozzy and his band, us with Sharon, the guys of Ratt, fans, us standing in front of important landmarks in other countries and different states we've visited in the U.S., our wedding photos, our reception pictures, "Shout at the Devil" era, "Theater of Pain" era...practically an entire montage of some of our biggest highlights and smaller, more intimate moments in between, featuring all of our friends and people we look up to and admire, all up to this year because there's even pictures of us hanging out with them recently.

Every picture is marked with a place, month and year and I sniffle back tears.

"You were so cute." Nikki comments as I pass the album to him and he's looking at one of the first pages at a picture of me and Tansy from one of their earlier shows. "You look like a baby." He adds, chuckling, patting at my thigh and I look at Tommy, more tears spilling over my lashes.

"Viv." He starts, smiling goofily at me.

"Aww, don't cry or I'll cry." Steven states.

"I'm sorry." I laugh a little, Sharise handing me a tissue from the box on Tansy's side table beside the couch before I'm getting up to see Tommy.

He's sitting on the edge of a comfy chair, and welcomes me with open arms when I sit across his long, skinny legs, and hug him as tightly as I possibly can.

Tansy leans over to look at the pictures with Nikki and she smiles.

"This was the night you lost your virginity, Viv!" Tansy pipes, holding the album up to show me a picture of me with my hand on ice--because Nikki slammed my fingers in my car door on accident--looking like I want to strangle Nikki and Vince as they try to wrap my hand up like a bandage, using a sock, which didn't work out anyway.

"You lost your virginity with one hand?" Steven asks me and Nikki and I exchange looks.

"It was her first time so it's not like she was doing much work, anyway." Tansy states.

"Okay, we can change the subject." I reply, awkwardly.

"She was doing plenty without needing her hands." Nikki insinuates reminiscently. "That's when I learned her little prude act is a cover up."

"Babe." I complain as Tommy squeezes his eyes shut, not wanting to imagine me and Nikki having sex.

"Fine." Nikki chuckles, nudging at Tansy to get him another present.

Once he's done unwrapping the rest of them, Sharise and I are picking up the wrapping paper and throwing it in the garbage can, and cleaning the place up while the guys talk in the living room.

By the time we're finished, we're heading back to the living room and I'm sitting down next to Nikki, laying my head on his thigh because I'm sleepy.

His fingers brush against the red strands of my hair soothingly, and I maintain on the brink of sleep, but still able to hear everyone's conversation and sudden bouts of loud laughter.

I'm nudged awake as Vince, Tommy and Steven talk about taking Nikki out to a few bars here in Malibu for his birthday.

Nikki stands up and I just put my head back down on the couch when he gets up before he's chuckling to himself.

"Let me get her to bed and I'll be out there." He tells them. "Viv, baby, c'mon, let's go to bed." He says to me and I stretch, humming softly as I wake up, sort of.

When he sees I'm not getting up, he leans down, and picks me up bridal style as Tansy points him in the direction of guest bedrooms.

My back hits the soft mattress and I feel him pulling at my jeans to get them off and I find the motivation to try to fumble to get my constricting bra off.

He sees me struggle to unbuckle it in my hazy state and scoffs a little, helping me get it undone before I'm throwing it in the floor.

He's pulling the covers back so I can curl up underneath them.

"I'll be back later, k?" He asks and I nod with my eyes still closed, getting comfortable on the bed.

"I'm sorry I'm so tired, I'll give you the best blow job ever later on." I promise him, knowing he probably expected a fun night for the both of us for his birthday. "And can you ask Sharise or Tansy if they can sleep in here with me until you get back?"

"Okay, Viv." I hear his smile in his words before his lips are pressing to my forehead for a second. "Goodnight, baby."

"G'night." I mumble.

He steps to the door and switches the light off before stepping out.

He hadn't been that affectionate since we got married.

I blamed it on the fact it on the fact that he'd "sobered" up to focus on the album and kicked heroin.

He'd gotten back on freebase, yeah, but cocaine, in any form, never made him mean or vindictive.

He would hallucinate and get scared, but he wasn't consciously mean for no reason.

Heroin, however, turned him into the devil, and by that point in his addiction he functioned better on heroin, than not, because without it in his system he just couldn't think of anything else other than getting a fix and if you weren't apart of his aid for a fix, you weren't worth his time and he let you know.

So I thought he had kicked his heroin habit for the most part because he was being nicer than usual to me but oh, no.

He felt guilty for cheating on me so he compensated by not being an asshole to me as much--yet.

It makes sense to me, now. I'd feel like shit, too, if I were telling my mistress I was going to leave my wife for her because my wife was "suffocating" and "draining the life" out of me.

Which translates to, "I'm leaving my wife because she doesn't like or contribute to my addiction."

Christmas came and Jason was Nikki's Santa Claus.

Then came New Years...which winded up being near death experience number one of two involving my safety at the hands of Sikki.

Sharise, Skylar and I pull into the driveway in Sharise's car, and she's putting it in park as I grab my few shopping bags.

"Thank you for getting me out of the house." I tell her, unbuckling.

"No problem." She replies.

"Bye-bye, Sky." I say, waving to the baby tucked safely in her carseat with her fist in her mouth, leaning closer to her to press a kiss to the bottom of her foot, causing her to smile and kick a little. "Bye, Sharise." I add, giving her a hug as best as I can.

"Bye, Viv."

"Call me when you get home to me know you got back safe."

"I will. Love you." She calls before I close the door.

"Love you, too." I shut the door with my bags in hand and step to the front door, fiddling with my keys.

Just as I step inside, I furrow my brows at the sound of Rabid dog fight, until I realize it's Nikki screaming.

"You're not making any fucking sense so just shut the fuck up!" He yells and I start cautiously walking to our bedroom, putting my ear to the door, hearing a woman crying. "Stop whining and just go fuck yourself! Fuck you! Fuck Jesus and get the fuck outta my house!" He barks louder and the door is flying open and I'm met with a distraught, jittery Vanity, who's eyes are wide as can be, and the smell of burnt cocaine nearly knocks me to the floor.

She stumbles past me and out the front door, barefoot, and I'm dropping my things to go check on her.

"Hey, do you need me to call you a cab or your driver?" I ask her as she continues to walk to our gate at the end of the driveway.

"N-No, I got it." She assures me, shakily, and I feel like I'm looking at a beaten puppy.

"Vanity, I can call someone to take you back home. It's a long way from here." I try to persuade her but she keeps shaking her head.

"I'm fi...fine, Viv, I promise." She insists.

"Do you at least want your shoes?" I ask, my thumb pointing in the direction of our house.

"No, I'm fine." She wipes her tear stained cheeks frantically. "I'll get them later."

She turns to keep walking but I look down at her feet that are only covered by her thin black stockings, then down at my shoes.

"Vanity, here." I pull my sneakers off and she watches me, her eyes struggling to keep focus as I crouch down and put them on her feet, tying them in a double knot so they won't come untied and trip her up. "You can just give them back whenever you can." I add and she gives me a nod.

I step back into the house, and don't even bother Nikki.

I don't feel like putting up with his nasty attitude.

A few hours later, I hear the bedroom door open, and he's slowly coming into the living room, turning on the T.V. and flipping it to MTV.

"Vanity was here." I say to him, turning a page in my book, as more of a statement than a question and he just stares at the television. "I don't like when she's here while I'm not around. I always come home to you two coked out and fighting. It scares me." I tell him.

"I dont know why." He mumbles and I roll my jaw.

"Because when you freebase you always end up waving a gun around." I state. "I'd hate to be the woman married to the murderer of Vanity."

"If you knew the whole story you wouldn't care if she died or not." He scoffs to himself and I furrow my brows.

"Well, then, what's the whole story?" I ask, putting the book down and he sighs out, shaking his head a little.

"She just picks fights. She likes to pick fights with me." He says and I rub my lips together.

"Well, damn, Nikki, I do that. That doesn't mean you scream at her like you do to me." I take up for her and he rolls his eyes.

"Vivian, I'm not arguing with you so just shut up." He tells me, tiredly.

"Are you back on junk?" I ask next and he let's out a heavy breath.

"Vivian." He snaps, glaring at me. "Drop it."

"I take that as a 'yes'." I mumble.

"Why the hell do you not stop when I ask you to?" He asks me sharply.

"I'll stop picking at you when you want me to, when you stop the drugs when I ask you to."

"And this is why I liked you better a few years ago because you kept your fucking mouth shut unless I wanted it open." He stands up, walking away.

"Yes, because me keeping my mouth shut out of fear of my significant other was so much better than feeling comfortable enough to voice my concerns for you." I trail behind him as he steps to the kitchen and grabs a beer from the fridge. "Nikki," I breathe out and he ignores me, causing me to cringe as he cracks open the beer bottle lid with his teeth, and before he can spit it in the floor, I'm plucking it from between his teeth. "I'm not trying to be a bitch or piss on your parade." I tell him, softly, throwing the lid away as he takes a swig of the beer, leaning against the counter. "I'm worried about you. Our friends are worried about you. Doc is worried about you."

"Doc's only worried about me because the office is on his back because I'm apart of the label's money train and if they lose me, they lose Mötley Crüe, and all the money we bring in." He states.

I feel bad, because it's true.

"I'm fine, Viv." He lies as he puts on a fake smirk that tries to tell me he has it under control, but it's really telling me he needs help...even if he doesn't realize he does.

He puts his beer on the counter beside him before pulling at my hand, tugging me to him, wrapping his arms around me and I hold him with my arms around his waist, looking up at him, trying not to gag because he smells like straight cocaine and sweat.

"I wanna write a song about you for the album." He tells me, his hand running through my hair.

"Are you being serious or deflecting from the fact I'm not very happy with you right now?" I ask, raising a brow.

"If I wanted to deflect anything I'd just bend you over and go to town." He shrugs and I cut my eyes at him.

He licks his lips before leaning down, but I put my hand over his mouth, stopping him from kissing me.

"After you get a shower and brush your teeth."

I'd hoped his spat with Vanity was the last for the day.

I shouldn't have thought that highly of him to only have one freebase session.

The house is pitch dark, not even the lamp in the living room is on.

Nikki must've cut it off when he went back to our bedroom.

I ended up falling asleep as he was taking a shower, and he didn't bother to wake me up when he was done.

I wait for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, padding over the fluffy carpet of our living room after I get off the couch and stretch.

My hands carefully feel around to make sure I don't run into anything while my feet make slow, deliberate steps.

I get to the door of our room, that isn't locked, surprisingly, and I turn the door knob.

It lets out an eerie, growling "creak" as it opens and I smell bitter drugs and hear heavy, loud breathing coming from the closet, gasps escaping between each breath as Nikki scrambles around.

I can't see anything but the very faint glow of a small tea candle in the closet that he's using to see what he does, but I know he's in there.

I take one step into our room, and a wail of the deepest fear cracks through the air before a booming gun shot chases after it.

I'm hitting the floor as fast as I can, screaming as my ears ache from the noise as he just starts shooting repeatedly, and the house shakes, my only chance of protection is getting under the bed and I rush to get there, covering my ears as my spine paralyzes with fear and more shots fire out. I hear things in our house breaking and shattering from  buckshot that flies through the open doorway as Nikki is shouting "GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!" with raw tears in his voice.

I keep a hand over my mouth to keep from crying too loud or else he'll open fire in this direction and keep his aim low.

I don't know if I'm hit or not, I'm scared to move around a little just to see, because he'll hear me shifting around on the carpet.

He thinks something is attacking him, he isn't thinking about it being me.

I wait for several minutes, trying not to breathe loud.

Thinking he's settled down, I shift from under the bed as quietly as I possibly can.

My ankle pops with my movement, and I immediately know I've fucked up the second he starts up again, and I feel the pressure of a smatter of shrapnel grip to my thigh and I fall on the ground, my instincts kicking in to get the hell away.

This time I crawl out of our room until I'm tucked behind the wall that leads to the living room then I'm standing and tripping over things in the floor to get to the phone in the living room, praying to God that Nikki doesn't get ballsy and get out of the closet to try to chase whatever he's hallucinating that I am, out of the house with more shots.

I'm turning on the lamp and dialing my emergency number before turning the lamp off and dragging myself to the christmas tree in the corner, holding the phone to my ear.

"Hello?" Fred croaks tiredly.

"Fred..." I whisper.

"Viv? Why the fuck are you whispering?"

"N-Nikki's got a gun." I say as calmly as I can, another "BOOM" zipping through the house and I put my hand over my mouth to keep myself from screaming.

"Vivian, what the hell is going on?!" I can tell the sound of a gun has woken him up as panic fills his voice.

"He's got a gun, he's hallucinating, I got hit with some buckshot but I don't know how much." I very quietly say.  "Don't call the cops. He'll get in trouble." I add, taking deep breaths as the pain starts to set in.

"Viv, I'm coming, alright? I'm coming, get somewhere and get still. I'm coming." He promises.

"Please, hurry, Fred, I'm scared." I plead under my breath, tears rolling down my cheeks.

"I'm coming, I promise. I'm hurrying. I promise." He hangs up and a wave of quiet sobs rocks through my body, my eyes squeezing closed as I beg God to let Nikki come down.

I just got a sprinkling of metal pellets from the shell that the majority missed me, and it was in the side of my thigh, but I felt like satan had dug his nails into my leg, down to the bone.

By the time Fred's unlocking our door, and switching on the light, a angry look on his face as he has his pistol out, he heads to our bedroom before coming to me.

"He's out cold." He tells me, turning on the other light over the living room. "Holy fuck, Viv." He says and I look down at my thigh, fear gripping at my heart and I start crying.

My skin is torn to shreds, deep, black tails of metal are deep in my flesh and I'm bleeding everywhere.

"Alright, we gotta get you to the hospital." He tells me, scooping me up and my heart pounds.

"Is Nikki gonna be in trouble?" I ask him frantically, starting to get more and more worked up.

"We don't have to tell them how this happened, Vivian. You probably need fucking surgery to get that shit out of you or you're fucked. You don't have a choice." He states, carrying me out to his car.

Turns out buckshot is more brutal than I expected. I was rushed into surgery while Fred contacted Doc, and he got ahold of the guys before going to see notify Nikki he had shot his fucking wife.

Once I was finally out of surgery, they were pumping me full of morphine to ease the pain of my shredded thigh because they had to cut into more of me to dig around to get all the metal out.

"I want a divorce." I mumble to the sound of Doc and Fred talking quietly amongst themselves, as I come to, but keep my eyes shut.

"How're you feeling?" Doc asks me and I force my eyes open, squinting through my sleep.

"My husband just tried to fucking kill me. I'm not okay." I grumble, trying to sit up in the bed, expecting to feel the pain I felt before surgery from my thigh, but I don't feel anything.

I barely feel my emotions. "Am I drugged?" I ask them tiredly, glancing up at the IV drip they have me on.

Fred and Doc don't say anything, just observing my experience with the first strong drug I've been in contact with.

I lean back, actually relieved that I truly don't give a shit about anything right now.

"I get it, now." I scoff, closing my eyes.

"Vivian--"

"Did I hear Duff, earlier?" I cut Doc short. "Or was I dreaming?"

I recall hearing Duff slurring "where's he fucking at? I'll fucking kill the motherfucker? Where's he fucking at?" but can't decide if I was dreaming or if he was actually here at some point.

"He's in the waiting room with Steven and Slash." Doc informs me. "We had to get him calmed down before he got himself kicked out."

"He wants to kick Sixx's ass." Fred informs me and I smile a little to myself.

"I wanna kick Sixx's ass, too." I agree. "Go get them. I feel like I'm about to fall asleep again and I wanna see them before I go."

"Alright." Fred stands up and steps out of the room.

"The bullshit has got to stop, Doc." I tell him, hoarsely. "The heroin. The coke. The alcohol. All of it. I'm getting tired of fighting." I admit and he let's out a breath.

"I know, Viv."

"I'm so tired."

"When we get you out of here, I'll talk to him."

"Does he know where I'm at?"

"I tried to wake him up and tell him but he was too doped on smack." He explains.

"He told me he wasn't on smack anymore." I say, finding it weird that I know I feel sad, but unable to feel the weight behind the emotion.

Before he can reply, the knocking on the door signals Duff's arrival as he slowly opens it.

"Hey!" I greet him as cheerfully as I can, my eyes barely able to keep open.

"Hey, Viv." He tries to play off his feelings but I can tell he's been worried. "Uh, Slash and Steven had to head home but they're coming later on." He adds. "No, it's okay, you're here. That's all I cared about." My cold hand reaches out for his hand and he's taking it.

"I'll leave you two alone for a little." Doc tells us. "I'll see if I can reach Tommy and Vince, now."

He leaves us alone and Duff's rubbing his lips together.

"You've been drinking." I say with lack of filter.

"Yeah, I was out partying." He tries to play it off with a smile.

"I was, too." I reply, grinning lazily and he let's out a soft breath. "Oh, come on, if I can't joke about getting shot, I'll cry and I'm tired of crying so just humor me."

"I think I've been humoring you the past year, Vivian. Every time you've sworn he was gonna change." He says a little more seriously.

"He didn't mean to do this, Duff. He didn't. He gets high, and he gets scared, and he thinks something's after him."

"Fred told me if you would have been hit with the brunt of the shot, your leg would have been useless, Viv."

"But I didn't." I argue softly, a tear trailing down my cheek. "God keeps me safe."

"I don't think God wants you staying in a relationship with someone who fucking puts the life he gave you, in danger." He states.

"Do you even believe in God?" I completely belittle what he just said. "Because if not, it's in your best interest not to speak on His behalf." I finish.

"How the fuck are you so argumentative when you're on morphine?" He asks, managing to bury the argument that was brewing.

"I don't fucking know I'm just tired." I let out.

"I can go, I just needed to see you were--"

"--Can you sleep with me?" I ask him out of nowhere.

"I don't want to piss anybody off." He tells me, but I know he really means, "I don't want to risk Nikki finding out and getting the wrong idea."

"My ass is hanging out of this gown, thigh looks like a fucking piranha got a hold of it, and I've had to use the bathroom in front of a nurse so she can monitor the consistency of my shit. I feel violated in every sense. I don't give a fuck what people think of my best friend sleeping in the bed with me for comfort's sake."

"Scoot over." He says, and I gently move the best I can to make room for him.

He gets in next to me, lifting his arm to rest above his head so I can lay beside him comfortably, and before long, his soft snoring brings a peaceful blanket of serenity and wraps it around me as I give into the drugs in my system pulling me into a sleep so I can help myself heal.

[snarkwrites]

05 | gangsta ; sweet pea

Notes:

A warning ahead of time. I’ve got 3 parts to this already written and I fully intend on posting them today, if possible. Also, things are starting to heat up just a little here pretty soon, so there’s that.

I realize that nobody asked for more of this ( i’m saying that because after chapter 1 I don’t think anybody kept reading lmaooo), however.. I’m having a blast writing it, so whether anyone asked or not, you’re getting it, lmaooo.

Also, new header thing for this because I can.

Warnings:

non canon compliant - this is the biggest warning, so if you’re into things that follow exact canon plot you are... definitely not going to like this. angst & slow burn, heavy sexual tension starting in the next part - this is just so everyone who started reading this thinking the smut would transpire in a hurry knows that apparently, it is not. violence / swearing & fighting, possible underage drinking and other shenanigans - look.. it’s high school. shit happens. also apparently, my ofc Alyssa uses the word fuck like all the time?... eventual sexual content - this one is self explanatory. yes, i plan to write a smutty chapter in this at some point. when? i don’t rightly know. it’s got a while before we get there.

Pairing:

Andrews!Sibling OFC, Alyssa x Sweet Pea

Other Parts:

[ one - two - three - four - soundtrack ] 

Other Stuff:

[ faq - tag list doc ] 

Tagging:

@brithedemonspawn​ is the only person on my Riverdale tag list. If you’d like to be tagged for this story by all means.. Please let me know. It’d make me super duper happy!!!

                                                F I V E.

My door was being pounded on. I rolled over, pouting at it. Honestly, the last thing I was prepared to do was go to school and face everything. My dad had told me the night before that I could miss one day.

“I’m sleeping.” I barely called out.

My bedroom door creaked open slowly.

“How long are you going to hide out in here?” Toni asked the question from my doorway, a hand on her hip as she stared me down and tapped her foot.

I sat up, looking at Toni. Shrugging.

“I don’t want to see him. I’m so angry I just want to choke him.”

“So, get up, get dressed and let’s go choke him.”

I eyed her, laughing. Managing a weak smile. Shrugging. “It’s not worth it. I mean… I should’ve known he had some kind of ulterior motive to begin with.”

Toni’s brow raised and she shook her head. “Meaning?” she questioned, an expectant gaze fixed on me.

My dad called up the stairs, “She alive up there?”

Toni answered, “She is.”

Cheryl came jogging up the stairs, flopping onto the other side of the bed.

Holding the one eyed stuffed rabbit that I’d given her in kindergarten because she was upset when her mom and dad couldn’t be bothered to show up for a play we were in.

“I come bringing gifts. Whiskers.” she presented the rabbit to me and I took it, hugging it against me for a few seconds. Holding it back out to her. “He was supposed to protect you, Blossom. You keep him.”

“You’re the one who’s hurting right now.” Cheryl insisted.

“I’m not hurting, I just… I don’t know.”

“You’re upset. And it’s okay, even if I swear to my dying day that Reggie Mantle is not worth it.” Toni coaxed.

I nodded.

“So are you coming with us or are we going to have to drag you out of bed, hm? You know I’ll do it.” Cheryl teased, giving me a soft smile. “You’re tougher than this, okay? I’ve seen your snapchat stories from Chicago.”

“Wait.. What’s that mean, hm? What am I missing?” Toni eyed Cheryl, awaiting explanation. 

“For the record, Cheryl, it was only four fights.” I glanced at Cheryl, going quiet and shrugging. I wouldn’t have ever gotten into any of those fights if I hadn’t had a damn good reason. Okay, so maybe one of them I would have because my temper got the best of me.. But the other three? Wouldn’t have happened.

“Four fights  that you won, Al.” Cheryl smirked.

“You’ve gotten in a fight? Since when?” Toni eyed me, shocked.

“That’s one of the big reasons I’m living with my dad now. One of many...” I admitted, trailing off and going quiet while shaking my head and laughing. “What? Did you really think I was some actual good girl?” I teased, poking out my tongue at her.

Stifling a yawn as I stretched. Trying to burrow down between the two of them.

“Girl if you don’t get out of this bed, I’m going to open your window and yell for  Fangs to come in to crush you.” Toni laughed. 

She and Cheryl shared a look and the next thing I knew, they were getting up.. Going to the bottom of my bed. Raising my black bandana stars and  moon print comforter. When they started to tickle my feet, I caved pretty  quick.

“Okay, alright, fine.”

Toni was already digging through my closet, Cheryl grimacing at the astounding amount of black shirts and band merch. Ripped jeans. Toni turned to look at me. “Girl.”

“Yes?” I was pulling myself out of bed now, stretching. Giving myself a once over in the mirror on my vanity and cringing. “Yikes. I look like death.”

“ So you mean to tell me you have all this stuff and you’ve been wearing all that other stuff?” Toni asked, gazing at me as she held up a cropped Metallica shirt. 

I nodded, shrugging. “I.. wanted to try actually not giving my father a thousand heart attacks since that’s apparently Archie’s thing.” 

Toni nodded, laughing. “I always felt like you weren’t really you.. The whole cardigans and sundresses thing. I mean, it fits you but it doesn’t. Not like this stuff, at least.”

She tossed a pair of black jeans at me, and one of my shirts. And then Cheryl eyed the box sitting on my window seat. “What’s this?”

“Pretty much anything Reggie gave me or every note he ever wrote. I was going to throw it all out or burn it later… Probably burn it because of the fact that I get to play with fire.” I sighed, grabbing the jeans and the shirt. 

“Hey, Toni? Do you see a red and black plaid shirt? It’ll be towards the back. It’s really old looking. Can you hand it to me?” I asked as I grabbed for my favorite pair of boots, slipping my feet into them. 

Toni found my dad’s old shirt and eyed it. Held it up to her nose, smelling it. “Why’s this smell like old guy cologne?”

“Probably because it’s my dad’s old shirt?” I gave her a laugh. She laughed and smiled. “You’re such a daddy’s girl, Andrews.”

I shrugged and smiled. “At least he’s dependable.”

“Hey, there’s toast if you three want any.” my dad spoke up from the doorway, glancing at the three of us.

“Yeah.”

“Awesome.”

“Thank you.” 

After we’d eaten some toast and scrambled eggs, I grabbed my bookbag and just as I started out the door, my dad stopped me. “I’m glad you’re listening to what we talked about. Being yourself?”

“Me too.” I smiled, stopping to give him a hug. “Hey.. I don’t have practice after school. Is it okay if I come and hang out at the site? Maybe I can even help a little…” 

My dad mulled it over. Smiling. “Yeah.”

I pushed out the front door just in time to see Fangs wandering our way. He chuckled, nodding to me. “I see you guys did actually get her out of bed.”

“We did say we were going in there with one goal in mind, Fangs.” Toni snickered. I tensed a little when I noticed Sweet Pea lingering up ahead, leaned against the streetlight, his arms folded over his chest.

For some reason, the fact that he probably knew everything that happened just.. Bothered me. Way more than it should’ve.

I stopped. My gaze torn between the path to school and my father’s house, getting further behind me with each step. Suddenly not too sure I wanted to or I even could face the fact that if Reggie and Chuck made the bet then everyone I once thought of as a friend probably knew already.

And spent the entire time I was bending over backwards just to make myself fit in laughing behind my back.

The anger kicked up in me and I took a deep breath.

“Oh come on! The best way to handle this is to show him you don’t care and it doesn’t bother you, Al.” Cheryl coaxed. Toni nodded in agreement.

I took a few shaky breaths and started to walk to catch up with them again. Letting the anger brew instead of just pushing it back down like I seemed to be getting good at doing to a lot of things lately.

If I was going to face Reggie and all our friends, I was going to need that anger. I was going to need one hell of a shiny spine. Because being passive and letting it go just isn’t who I am. And maybe my dad’s right. Maybe it’s time I started being more me.. Without all the crazy and wild stunts I pulled back in Chicago.

“Are we meeting to have our little goodbye fire after school?” Cheryl asked. I bit my lip, mulling it over. Finally nodding, as much as it hurt. The sooner I get this out of my system, the better I’ll feel, hopefully. “Yeah. I’ll get the box and we can do it in a trash barrel at the construction site.”

I almost had to laugh at the irony. Not even a week ago, I’d been contemplating breaking up with Reggie because I couldn’t take the fighting or the tension anymore. The only thing that stopped me? Not wanting to hurt him. Because I knew what he was going through at home. Because I could see the teeniest sliver of a good and sweet guy buried deep down beneath all the cocky swagger.

And today, we were over and he’d been the one to hurt me. He’d been playing the long con the entire time.

The sound of a car revving on the road next to the sidewalk we were all walking on had me glancing over. Grumbling when my eyes settled on Reggie’s black Charger.

“What the fuck does he want?” Sweet Pea snarled to himself.

“A fight, if we’re fuckin lucky, man.” Fangs chuckled, opening and closing his fists.

Reggie rolled down the passenger window. Called out to me.

I pretended not to hear him, turning my attention to talking to Cheryl and Toni instead.

“I know you hear me, princess.. C’mon. Please? At least give me a chance to explain?”

He kept at this for almost a minute until I finally got annoyed. I finally just couldn’t deal with him lingering. Trying to push me into talking things out. What was there to talk about?

He’d had a bet going about getting into my panties.

“Explain what, exactly?” I eyed him, a hand on my hip.

Reggie bit his lip and his eyes roamed over me. He sighed quietly, nodding to the passenger seat. 

I shook my head no. “Which part do you need to explain, Reggie? The part that you made a bet on taking my virginity or the fact that you’re an actual fucking pig? I can’t believe I fell for your shit.”

From beside me, I felt Sweet Pea tense a little. Fangs grumbled and shook his head, muttered under his breath, “ I always knew he was a fucking douche.”

“I deserved that.” Reggie muttered. Pleading with me again to at least let him explain.

“You deserve a kick in the balls.” I retorted, starting to walk a little faster. “Don’t you have a bimbo to fall back on?” I asked when I realized he wasn’t pulling away and driving off. “Stop trying. It’s not like you tried that hard before I found out what you were really about.”

He eyed me, his mouth opening and closing.

“What’s that mean, huh?”

“ If you can’t figure it out, it’s not on me to explain it.” I rolled my eyes. Tapping my boot against the sidewalk impatiently. 

“I’m gonna prove you wrong, princess.” Reggie bit his lip, gazing at me. “I’m gonna prove just how wrong you are and how much I care.”

“You can start by leaving, meatball.” I rolled my eyes, waving a hand dismissively as I hurried to catch up with the rest of my friends. Reggie drove off and I watched his tail lights fading. Taking a few shaky breaths because it felt like I’d just ripped a bandaid off an open wound.

“That went well.” Toni muttered, eyeing me. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” I muttered.

We were standing at the edge of the parking lot in front of Riverdale High by now. I gazed at the building. For a few seconds, I thought about bolting. Instead, I took a few long and deep breaths. Walking into the halls with Toni and Cheryl. Holding my head up. Ignoring the stares and the few whispers.

Cheryl leaned in to mutter against my ear, “Ignore them.”

I nodded, even though every single part of me was now wishing I hadn’t chosen to come today.

When I got to my locker, I found a single red rose taped to it. I tore it off. Grumbling to myself as I found a trash bin and threw the flower inside, giving Reggie a pointed glare as I walked right past him.

Chuck elbowed him and said it loudly enough that I could hear, “You can do better, Mantle. Find yourself a girl who cares enough to put out.”

I rolled my eyes. Spinning around before Toni or Cheryl even realized that I wasn’t walking with them anymore. Backtracking down the hall and stopping in front of Chuck.

Gazing up at him as I retorted, “Oh?”

Chuck eyed me, snickering. “Somebody’s feisty this morning.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong here, but didn’t you like… lie about half the girls you claim slept with you? I mean hey.. I can’t help it, some of us have actual standards, dude. Wasn’t there a whole ass scene between you and pretty much every single girl in Riverdale High? In this same hallway? Might want to keep your mouth shut, Chucky.”

His fists clenched. 

I snickered quietly. “Anyway, that’s not what I came over for. It just occurred to me, Chuck.. I never bothered to ask how much my virginity is worth to an ignorant swine like you. How much was the bet, hm?”

Chuck raised a brow. Reggie tensed. Trying to butt in, trying to tell me to let it go and plead with me to just talk to him later when I’d cooled down.

But I was past it. 

Chuck smirked. “You, princess? Twenty bucks. Now.. if you were actually hot like say… Betty Cooper or Veronica Lodge, even Cheryl over there or her pretty little friend.. It’d have been a hundred bucks easy.” he folded his arms over his chest. Waiting on his words to hit some kind of mark.

Thinking that I gave a shit. Or that I wasn’t already well aware that I wasn’t supermodel hot like most of the other girls and totally fine with it.

“If you’re waiting on me to be hurt, it’s not gonna happen. But here. Here’s your fucking money, you prick.” I dug around in the pocket of my jeans, finding a twenty dollar bill. Tossing it at him. Nodding at where it settled on the floor.

“Pick it up.” I repeated firmly.

“How about you do it for me, princess?” Chuck smirked, gazing at me intently. Nodding towards the fallen twenty. 

I shook my head. Stepped closer. “Go on.. Pick it up. Unless you’re afraid...” 

Reggie cleared his throat. “Princess.. You don’t have to do this. None of this matters...” he tried to reason with me. Tried to get me to calm down.I whirled around to face him. “ My name is Alyssa. You don’t get to call me princess or baby girl or anything like that anymore. Are we clear, meatball?”

Chuck cackled at that. I turned to face him, nodding to the money. Bending to pick it up. “Guess you don’t want to get paid.” I shrugged. He reached for the twenty and I drew it back out of his grasp, clucking my tongue.

I held it up, as best as I could to keep it out of his reach. When he went for it, I threw it on the floor again and spat in his direction. “Next time you decide to bet on somebody’s virginity, asshole, just remember how many girls shot you down. Remember that you’re actually not hot shit.”

I shoved through the crowd, walking back over to my locker. Throwing it open. Ignoring the shocked looks on my friends faces as I calmly switched out my books for the morning classes.

XXX

He couldn’t stop replaying the whole thing in his head. Smirking about it a little in pride because he honestly hadn’t ever thought she had all that in her. He found himself stealing glances at her while she had her nose buried in the textbook, reading and not paying anything going on around her any sort of attention.

From behind them, Reggie was hissing her name. Sweet Pea rolled his eyes, annoyed because the guy had basically gone this entire time without a backwards glance at her while paired with Mandy, and now, suddenly, he couldn’t leave her alone.

The jealousy that surged had Sweet Pea clenching his fist. Shoving it in his jacket.

When Reggie tried to pass a note to her and it settled on his desk instead, he turned and smirked. Speaking up so the teacher caught onto what was going on.

“I”m flattered, Mantle. Really I am. But you’re kind of not my type, man.” Sweet Pea smirked as Reggie practically growled at him and shook his head. The teacher hadn’t caught on yet. Reggie kept nodding to Alyssa and Sweet Pea chuckled to himself again. The urge to embarrass the guy was just too strong to pass up.

“Oh? You want me to pass this note to Alyssa?” Sweet Pea barely hid the smirk when he said it loudly enough that he knew their teacher had to hear him, plain as day.

The teacher glanced their direction, stalking across the room to snatch the paper out of Sweet Pea’s hands. Unfolding it as he started to read it to the entire class.

Alyssa grumbled under her breath, whirling around in her seat.

“Pig.” she called out before turning to face the front again. Sinking down in her seat just slightly. Shaking her head as she muttered to herself quietly, “Where was this energy when we were actually dating, I ask?”

 They reached for the textbook open between them at the same time and Alyssa glanced over at him, biting her lip. No matter how much he tried, Sweet Pea couldn’t drop his gaze. His eyes were locked on hers. He repositioned the book so that they could both see it clearly. And maybe just so she’d have to lean in slightly in the process.

“What’d you say to Chuck in the hall?” He whispered after a few seconds.

“I threw his fucking money at him. And reminded him that most of the girls he supposedly got with actually didn’t and wouldn’t touch him with a ten foot pole. I was hoping he’d bend down and get his money though because I was totally about to knee him in the face.”

“Nah. I don’t see you doing that.” Sweet Pea chuckled, shaking his head at her and locking eyes all over again.

Alyssa eyed him, an amused look on her face as she shrugged. “Whatever you say, Sweet Pea.” before going back to reading their assigned part of the text.

Sweet Pea found himself staring at her. Probably much more than he should have if he were being honest about it. 

She leaned in to turn the page and he coughed abruptly. The cotton candy scent of her favorite body spray wafting up. Making him bite his lip over the knee jerk reaction he was having to the way she was slightly leaned against him. She must have caught on to him staring at her because she glanced up, licking at her lips. Muttering an apology in haste and moving away a little.

He leaned into her and muttered into her ear, “It’s not that big a deal, cherry.”

She nodded, but she didn’t look up at him or anything.

When it happened at least two more times during the class, he wound up having to shift around in his seat a little. Trying to appear neutral when every little accidental brush of her side against his was overloading him a little more each time.

XXX

“Okay, I got matches.” Toni or Cheryl called up the stairs from the living room.

“I have the lighter and the box.” I answered, jogging down the stairs to meet them. We stepped out of the house and I locked the door behind me. Stopping by the fern to make sure the spare key was still hidden inside the pot just in case Archie didn’t have his key.

We set out for the construction site but Toni remembered that she had to stop by her grandfather’s place to grab something.

The crowd gathered outside was angry. Panicked. Toni shoved her way through the crowd her neighbors made, up and onto her porch. Coming back with a bright orange piece of paper that had been stuck to her front door.

I happened to spot Sweet Pea as he stood on the porch three trailers away. His jaw set firm.

Cheryl snatched the note from Toni and as soon as she realized it was an eviction notice, she was hugging Toni.

“I can’t fucking believe this. They can’t just throw out everyone.”

I swallowed hard. Locking eyes with Sweet Pea from across the lot. Every part of me wanted to walk over to him. But I didn’t dare.

He tolerated me at best.

I could just see this only driving his defenses up even more. Fangs wandered over, a similar note in his own hands. Swearing and angry.

“There’s absolutely no way, this is bullshit.”

“They can and they did, Cherry.” Fangs grumbled. Cheryl and I shared a look because neither one of us really knew what to do or say in this case.

“Yeah, I don’t think so. I’m gonna skype my mom tonight and ask if this is legal at all.” I took Fang’s notice and took a screenshot of it. He shook his head. Muttered calmly and quietly, “No use in bothering with it, Cherry. We all know how this is gonna play out.”

“It doesn’t have to, though.” I answered, shaking my head. Cheryl did the same. Hugging Toni as she tried to console her. Offering to let her stay at her place.

Sweet Pea punched at the post on his porch and jumped over the rail, wandering over to where Toni and Fangs stood with Cheryl and I.

“You see this shit?”

“Yeah.” Toni answered in a flat tone.

Fangs just nodded. Pacing. Angry.

“This can’t be legal.” I muttered.

Sweet Pea gazed down at me. A sneer forming. “I hate to break it to you, Cherry. This is real life. And there’s nothing any of us can do about it, either.”

I tensed at his tone. I get where his anger was coming from, but the fact that it was directed at me right now was both hurtful and kind of irritating.

“What? You think I live in a fucking ivory tower?” I snapped before I could stop myself, storming off.

Cheryl caught up to me halfway down the block.

“There has to be something we can do. Anything.” Cheryl spoke up as we shared a look.

“I’m calling my mother. If anyone can stop this bullshit, it’s her.”

“I can try to buy it back.” Cheryl mused.

“That fucking snake Lodge wouldn’t ever allow it and your mother would end herself before she let you do that. Not to mention what she might do to get even with you for even thinking it.” I sighed as I gazed at Cheryl. The wheels in my mind turning. Same as hers, I could tell.

“We just have to think. I mean, we know who’s behind all this. I wish there was some way I could fucking pin him and make it stick.” I grumbled, shaking my head again.

“Something tells me there’s more to your dislike for Veronica’s father than merely the way he’s making our friends homeless.” Cheryl studied me. I nodded, answering quietly, “The man got out of prison, discovered my brother was dating his daughter and decided to take a wrecking ball to my brother and my father’s relationship. You know how close they were, Cheryl. And you know how much I hate change or tension. And it’s been so tense between them since I moved back I… I just feel like the walls are closing in sometimes. But my mom told me to let them figure it out. To focus on figuring myself out. But I can’t because I love them both and it’s frustrating the hell out of me, ugh!”

Cheryl nodded. The rest of the walk to my father’s construction site was quiet. Both of us thinking. Trying to come up with any form of a solution.

Toni caught up to us, putting her arms around. “I’ll take you up on staying at your place.” she muttered, brushing a kiss to Cheryl’s cheek as a thank you. I smiled at the two of them and then spoke up.

“I’m seriously going to call my mother tonight and ask if Mayor McCoy can do this. Every part of me wants to go fill her gas tank with sugar but then I remember, Josie’s actually pretty okay and I don’t want to get on her bad side. Besides.. Pretty sure her mother didn’t come up with the idea to do this on her own. Pretty sure she had a little monetary persuasion.”

Toni eyed me as I kicked over a garbage can nearby.

“It’ll be fine. F.P’s already offered sanctuary at the Wyrm for everyone.” Toni spoke up. I nodded. Feeling a little bit of relief, because I’d been so fucking worried.

I knew Fangs probably had places he could go. Other family.

Sweet Pea, I wasn’t entirely sure he had that. And I knew he’d literally rather die than ask anyone for anything.

Even though if I thought for a second he didn’t have a place to crash, I’d been fully prepared to do something. Anything.

I shoved the thought out of my head.

“What’d you mean by monetary persuasion?” Toni asked.

Cheryl filled her in on my five minute rant that she’d missed. And Toni studied me intently. “And now the way you keep your distance and go quiet around Veronica and your brother totally makes sense.”

“I want to like her, I really do, but.. Her father and this fuckery. Because we all know none of this started until that man came to town.” I rubbed at my forehead. God, I was so done with this day. 

My father’s construction site came into view and my dad caught sight of me, making his way over after he finished talking to one of the contractors. 

“Everything okay, tiny?” My father asked, giving me a gentle look of concern.

“Fuck no.” I grumbled, shaking my head. Trying to put my thoughts together and be calm about it.

“Hey! Language.” My father scolded in a gentle tone. He eyed me and waited. I took the eviction notice from Toni’s hand and showed him, shaking my head. “I swear to God, that jerk Lodge should’ve stayed in prison.”

“Agreed.” my father muttered. He handed Toni back the eviction notice and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. I could tell it bothered him too. His jaw set firm, just like it always does when something’s upsetting him or making him angry. I get the trait honestly.

“I’m going to call Mom tonight and ask if it’s legal for Mayor McCoy to do that. I mean she can’t. Unless the place is condemned.. I wouldn’t think.” I explained.

“I dunno, kid. The world’s not always as black and white as we see it. Kind of where your mom and I butted heads a lot.” my father answered, hugging me. Glancing at Toni. “Do you have somewhere to stay?”

Cheryl smiled and nodded, speaking up.

“She’s going to be staying at the Manor with me, sir.” she beamed as she held onto Toni’s hand, giving it a squeeze. My dad chuckled and raked his hand over his head. 

“If Cheryl’s mom starts anything, you’re welcome to stay with Alyssa.” my father told her. Toni gave a soft laugh, nodding. Thanking him quietly. 

My dad caught sight of the box in my arms, nodding to it. “What’s all that?”

“All the crap Reggie gave me. And the notes and pictures.” I answered, shuffling my feet.

“You’re not gonna keep that?” my dad questioned. “I know it hurts, but memories.”

“Nope. I have zero interest in anything to remind me I was ever stupid enough to date Reggie Mantle.” I shook my head, vetoing the suggestion.

“Yikes. How bad was this fight you two had, exactly?” my dad asked again. He’d been trying to get me to tell him but I just couldn’t. Not knowing my dad would definitely try to murder the guy.

Cheryl started to speak up, she started to tell my father what actually happened, but I gave her a gentle elbow in the side. My father eyed me and I sighed.

“It wasn’t exactly an argument. We just broke up. Well, to be honest, I dumped him.”

“If you want to talk about it..” my dad offered.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure you’d try to murder him and I love you too much to let you go to prison.” I answered quietly. “Trust me, daddy.. You don’t want to know. Let’s just leave it at me dumping him, please sir?”

He eyed me, but he let it drop for now.

As soon as we found a barrel we could use to burn the contents of the box in, we made our way over and I turned the box upside down, letting the pictures, letters and the stuffed animal inside settle in the bottom of the barrel.

After striking the match, Cheryl passed it to me. I tossed it in and we stood there, watching the fire quietly. All of us lost in thought.

At one point, Toni spoke up.

“Sweet Pea shouldn’t have gone off like that.”

“I don’t blame him. I get it. It’s fine.” I shrugged. “He’s right. I am kind of sheltered. I mean I know what the real world is like, I just.. I got lucky enough that I don’t have to face a lot of it’s challenges.” I mused, shaking my head. It still hurt, the way he’d snapped at me so harshly. ,, ah well, I thought to myself, another good reason why he’d never want to be with someone like me and a very good reason why we wouldn’t work out and I just need to forget whatever.. this.. is that I am feeling  towards him lately.” 

“Is there any reason you haven’t told your father the real reason you broke up with Reggie?” Cheryl asked the question after we’d all fallen silent again. I leaned back in the chair I’d dragged over and gazed up at the sky. “Because I know my dad will try to kill him. And no matter how much Reggie deserves it, I don’t want it to happen.”

“Oh, I’m petty enough I’d tell him.” Toni answered. The three of us shared a laugh and I went quiet. “Was Sweet Pea okay when you left? I know the eviction notice pissed him off.” I asked, grabbing a stick to poke at the fire. Pouting because it was starting to die down. The flame licked at the corner of the first note Reggie ever wrote me and I stared at it a few seconds, lost in thought.

Sweet Pea’s throat cleared. I looked at him.

“You can ask me yourself.” he answered quietly. Fangs nodded to the dwindling fire. “Damn. I missed the closest I’ll ever come to lighting Mantle’s ass on fire.”

I laughed before I could stop myself. Then I stood to go lug a hose over to put out the fire. It was dying anyway, there wasn’t any sense in just letting it keep burning.

“We could move this to Pops. I gotta pick up dinner for me and Dad tonight anyway, because Archie is apparently going to welsh on his turn to cook. Because he’s with Veronica, of course. Doing god knows what.”

“The sex.” Fangs teased, wiggling his brows suggestively.

Making me grimace and pretend to gag while plugging my ears as he did so. “Ew, gross, why the fuck would you put any of that… imagery in my head? She’s kind of a friend and he’s my brother and now I’m going to fucking hurl, sir.” 

“Fuck it, why not. Pop’s it is.” Sweet Pea grumbled, pulling himself off the ground. As we walked towards the diner, I found myself fenced in beside Sweet Pea when Fangs chose to walk on the outside of the sidewalk. My side brushed against him every few steps and I couldn’t help but be painfully aware of it. Of him. I shoved it out of my mind immediately. I was barely managing to get the guy to warm up to me as a friend. And right now, I needed to breathe. To get my own head on straight. Enjoy being alone and free to do whatever. Without any obligation to anybody or expectations.

,, besides, look at him… do you really think he’d ever go for you? Not a freaking chance. Literally the only reason Reggie Mantle did was just to see if you’d give it up so he could win some fucking bet... You’re always second choice, the sooner you accept it and stop fighting to be chosen first, the better...” the thought surfaced, taunting me.

When I saw Reggie’s car rounding the corner, I swore to myself and tensed up slightly. And next to me, I felt Sweet Pea tense just a bit himself. He glanced down at me when our hands brushed on accident. Biting his lip. Our gaze lingering on each other, distracting me from Reggie’s car slowing to an idle on the street as he tried to get my attention from inside of it.

I don’t know why I did it, but I curled my pinkie around Sweet Pea’s. Giving a careful squeeze because it kind of calmed me down.

“Pound sand, Dog.” Toni called out as soon as Reggie had the window rolled down. I laughed and called out to him calmly, “What my best friends just said, meatball. Pound sand.” 

“Give me a chance.” Reggie pleaded again.

“What I’d like to give you is a swift kick in the nuts.” I retorted. 

Reggie sighed. Called out calmly, “I’ll give you a little more time to calm down. Then you have to talk to me. Please? I.. I love you, okay? The last thing I wanted was everything to come out.”

I swallowed hard, gazing at him. Really weighing the fact that it took him getting caught like he had to make him actually say the words and actually appear to mean them. I dragged my fingers through my hair. Trying to think about it all.

Deep down, I knew that it was already over before I even overheard the conversation about the bet he’d made with Chuck. I’d already been thinking about it.

He’d just done me a favor and sped up my decision making process.

“Go away, meatball.” I called out. Reggie rolled up his window and drove away and I shook my head, going quiet. Thinking about everything.

We filed into Pop’s, filling up a booth. I guess I was too quiet, because Cheryl cleared her throat.

I glanced over at her and she smiled. Gently but firmly reminding me that Spirit Week was upon us and I needed to be in my best form. I nodded. “I’m trying.”

“Don’t try. Do. I can’t have my tumbler moping all over the place. And if you’re going to pull off that stunt you’ve been practicing, you have to have your head in it. One wrong move and it won’t be pretty.” Cheryl reminded me.

I took a sip of my milkshake and nodded again. “Oh trust me, I know.”

“What stunt?” Toni asked, looking from me to Cheryl.

Cheryl explained it. The gist of it was that I was going to do my usual bit on the pyramid, a back tuck basket, hopefully come out of that into a back handspring.

“Are all gymnasts super flexible?” Fangs asked, making all of us laugh and groan as he shrugged, “It was just a question. I mean they’re always doing all those flips and all that other shit.” 

Cheryl giggled at the question, nodding to me. “She used to put her legs behind her shoulders when we were in grade school.”

“Until you triple  dared me once and I fucking got stuck like an actual human pretzel.” I pretended to pout at her from across the booth. Cheryl laughed. Toni laughed and I pouted at them both. “Glad you find my embarrassment entertaining.”

“Oh come on! I’m just wondering if it’s like that afternoon we were messing around by the quarry and you tried to cram yourself into that pipe.”

“Again, fuck you both.” I quipped, taking a long and noisy sip of my milkshake.

“Yeah, what is it with you and spaces you don’t need to be in?” Fangs questioned, chuckling as I stuck my tongue out at him and shrugged.

“I climbed into a dryer once on a dare. I think honestly, it’s just the simple fact that I hate being told I can’t or shouldn’t do something, because that’s how the dryer dare all started...” I trailed off, drumming my fingers against the tabletop.

“Wasn’t that one on your Snapchat stories?” Cheryl asked. Digging for her phone and going to the app. Going through my stories until she found it. 

I laughed as I heard one of my old friends in the background going “And it was in this moment that Allie knew she’d truly fucked up.” just as I started to realize I might or might not be stuck and started to panic a little. Yelping about “Errors were made. Oh no. This is.. How am I explaining this to my mother, Lexy? Oh god, she’s going to have a cow…” as I laughed hysterically and tried to wiggle myself free. “Suddenly, this doesn’t seem like a good idea. Stop filming me Raya and help, shit!”

“Dramatic?” Sweet Pea chuckled, catching my gaze.

“Eh, maybe a little.” I shrugged, sipping my milkshake. Trying to drop my own gaze first, but unable to do so for whatever reason.

“What’s the thought process behind cramming yourself into a dryer though?” he questioned.

“I was told I shouldn’t or that I wouldn’t. Then dared to do it. So I did it...” I answered. Gazing over at him. A puzzled look on my face because he was kind of staring at me. Intently. Lost in thought for a few seconds.

“A dare, huh?” he eyed me as he asked. 

I held his gaze because try as I might, I couldn’t seem to stop myself from doing it.“Mhm.” I muttered, finally managing to break our little stare down. Glancing down at my french fries and shoveling a few in my mouth.

After we left Pop’s, I made my way back home, flopping myself across my bed. Cheryl was sitting at my vanity with her legs propped against it and Toni was sprawled out on a giant beanbag chair that sits in the corner of my room, flipping through a magazine.

“So.. Is there some reason you and Sweet Pea keep staring at one another?” Toni’s question drew me out of my own thoughts. I glanced over at her, shrugging. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You noticed too?” Cheryl asked Toni. Toni held my gaze, smirking at me as she nodded yes to Cheryl. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Cherry. And for the record, you definitely didn’t look at Mantle that way.”

“I don’t look at Sweet Pea in any certain way either? I mean.. I don’t think I do?” I questioned, confused. Wondering why I kept getting asked the question or accused of doing this. 

“You do.”

“It’s like you’re starving.”

“Or thirsty.” Toni teased, the three of us bursting into laughter. I actually had to stop and think about it.

And found myself confronted with the fact that maybe… possibly… I did think Sweet Pea was hot. I had since my first run in with the guy, right after I moved back to Riverdale. I just.. Didn’t make it a point to actually stop and think about it or dwell on it.

But I found myself wondering.. If my best friends noticed any looks I may or may not be giving him… Did that mean he had?

Somehow, I doubted it. And that relieved me.

“All I’m going to say is he’s hot. But that’s it. And neither of you better say a word! That’s all the guy needs, his ego getting so big he can’t fit a room. Besides… even if I did… feel an attraction… there’s the small fact that guy absolutely cannot stand me. He only tolerates me because we’re friends.” I admitted. Going quiet. Letting the thought sink in. Trying my best to process it.

Or forget it. Because that was pretty much my only option here. Shove these pesky thoughts and any attraction that I’d been feeling as deep down as they’d go.

Otherwise, this was going to get awkward. Fast.

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Talks and Transfers

A JSE Fanfic

I was not expecting to write the next part of this so soon, but I’ve hit a block on other stories, and also one of my friends read the last two parts a few days ago and went absolutely feral when I started being cryptic and it was weirdly motivating XD Anyway, here’s number three. We finally get to see a boy besides Schneep! Which is great, because things aren’t going so well for Schneepy boy

You can now find the other two stories under the #pwtimeline tag!

“Why am I doing this, why am I doing this, oh god why am I doing this?” Dr. Laurens kept muttering this under her breath even as she dialed the number. She listened to the phone ring with slowly building dread. Maybe she should just go to work anyway. She could power through this; maybe she shouldn’t miss the session. But she was making the call. And soon it was picked up. “Hi, Dr. Newson?” She asked.

“Oh hey Rya, what’s up?”

“H-hey. I, uh, I can’t come into work today. I’m sick.” It wasn’t a lie—for the past few days there had been a slowly building headache behind her eyes, and today she woke up with a sore throat and a raspy voice. “Can, uh, I know you talked about how you’d be willing to take the Schneep case, so can you cover my session today?” Laurens winced privately. She hated to do this; she always believed in consistency, especially with schedules.

“Oh yeah! Sure, I can do that!” Dr. Newson sounded excited, and eager to help. Which was weird, because Dr. Newson didn’t do ‘excited.’ Or if she did, she didn’t show it.

Still, Laurens breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I keep my notes in the turquoise notebook, it should be on my desk in my office.”

“Uh-huh. Got it.”

“And the session is at one o’clock. Room 309.”

“Rya, chill, I’ll take care of everything,” Dr. Newson assured her. “You just rest. Your voice sounds awful, if you need some more time off just tell me.”

“I usually get over things in a day,” Laurens said. “But thanks. I-I’ll let you know.”

“You do that. See you later.” And with that, Dr. Newson hung up.

Laurens sighed again, exhaling all the nerves she’d built up as she leaned backwards against the seat of her car. She felt kinda guilty for not coming in to work. Like she was abandoning Schneep in a time of need. But he’d been doing pretty good ever since the hoodie incident. Hadn’t made much progress, but at least he wasn’t trying to hurt anyone anymore. And besides, wasn’t what she was doing now also a way to help?

It was true, she was feeling kind of under the weather, but under normal circumstances, it wasn’t bad enough to stop her from going to work. But she’d used the sick excuse so she could have the day off to search.

Laurens pulled her keys out of the ignition and stepped out of the car, looking around. She’d never been in this part of the city before. In the suburbs. If she was forced to guess, she’d say that most of the houses here were taken by families. But still, from what Schneep had said about this guy during their sessions, he lived somewhere around here. Laurens groaned silently. Guess she’d have to go door-to-door. Like a Girl Scout.

Twenty minutes later, she was starting to wonder if she was maybe wrong about thinking she was well enough to spend the day walking around an unfamiliar neighborhood. Her sore throat had faded a bit, but her head was pounding, and it felt stuffed full of fluff. Just a couple more houses. Then she could maybe drive home and take a nap, and try again that evening.

Laurens walked up the path to the door of the next house. She rang the doorbell, and while she waited she looked around idly. The yard was less well-kept than the others on the block. The grass was yellower and there were no flowers in the flowerbeds. But not everyone had the ability to do yard work. That was why she lived in an apartment.

The door opened, and she snapped to attention. “Hi I’m looking for...” she trailed off when she got a closer look at the guy who answered the door. Okay, this was him. God, Schneep had said the two of them looked similar, but she wasn’t expecting such an uncanny resemblance. He’d said they weren’t related, right?

“Uh...yeah? I mean, excuse me?” The man had brown hair and blue eyes, just like Schneep, though his hair was partly hidden beneath a snap-back cap. He wore a gray shirt underneath a red jacket with some sort of logo on the lapel, and his voice had a slight American accent.

Laurens blinked, clearing her head. “Sorry, are you Chase Brody, by any chance?”

“Yeah, that’s me. What’s up?” Chase seemed to examine her. “If you’re selling something, or if you’re like, I dunno, looking for autographs, then—”

“Oh no, no no,” Laurens hurried to say. “Um, my name is Rya Laurens. Dr. Laurens. I, uh, I know your friend Sch—Henrik, and I, uh, wanted to talk to you about him.”

The change was instantaneous. Chase, who’d been previously leaning against the doorway, stood up straight, his eyes widening. “Oh, yeah, h-hang on, d’you want—please, come in.” He stood aside and let her step past him into the house.

The living room looked about what she thought it would look like. Chase had a quality entertainment system, with a widescreen TV and several video game consoles, as well as a shelf full of DVDs, most of which seemed to be kids films or Marvel movies. “You have a nice home,” she said politely.

“It’s a little messy, sorry about that,” Chase muttered, closing the door. “D’you want anything to drink? I can make tea.”

“That would be lovely.”

She followed Chase into the dining room, with adjoining kitchen separated only by a counter. While she took a seat at the dining table, Chase busied himself making the tea. She looked around, noticing a pile of dirty dishes by the sink and what looked like children’s drawings stuck to the fridge with magnets. After a few moments, during which she sat at the table in silence and failed at not feeling awkward, Chase set a mug down in front of her, sitting in the seat next to her. “Hope you like Lyons. Actually, I probably should’ve asked you before I made it.” He laughed a bit.

Laurens took a sip. “It’s good. A bit hot.”

“Oh good. Anyway. You said you knew Schneep? Do you work with him?” Chase started to take a sip of his mug of tea as well.

“Uh, no, not...I’m not that kind of doctor.” Laurens cleared her throat, which only served to make it raspier, so she coughed instead. “I work at Silver Hills—”

There was a sudden splutter as Chase seemed to spit out his tea back into the mug. “Sorry, just—” He wiped the sleeve of his jacket across his mouth. “Jesus christ, has he been there the whole time?”

“What...do you mean ‘the whole time’?” Laurens asked.

“Well, since August. When that whole...thing happened. You heard about that?”

“Oh, I know what you mean. And, uh...” Laurens shifted awkwardly in her seat. “You haven’t been watching the local news, have you?”

“No, I don’t watch news at all.” Chase looked down at the table surface and shrugged. “It...depresses me.” He looked back up. “Why?”

“A-ah...well...” God, this was awkward. Laurens kept drumming her fingers on the mug. “Henrik—Schneep—has been...implicated in several...murders.” 

Chase blinked. “You’re joking.”

“No, I-I am not.” Laurens tried to smile apologetically. She wasn’t sure it was working. “You, um, should be able to look it up. It became quite a big deal.”

“Oh my fucking god...” Chase briefly covered his mouth with his hand before lowering it again. “Did...did he do it?”

“The, uh...the evidence pointed that way,” Laurens said slowly. “They had video and DNA and everything...sorry.” She didn’t know why she apologized.

“Oh my fucking god,” Chase repeated, gaping. “I—I knew Schneep had issues but I didn’t think he was—was capable of—jesus.”

“Well...” Laurens looked down into the mug of tea. “Sometimes when...you know, the human mind is complicated, especially when it lies to you.” Chase didn’t answer. Laurens wished she could say something better, somehow more reassuring, but...ironically, despite being a psychiatrist, she wasn’t the best with people. So she tried to move on to the reason she actually came. She took a deep breath, and looked up. “He misses you, you know.”

Chase’s eyes snapped toward her. “Really?”

“Yeah. He talks about you a lot. And two others, uh, Jackie and Marvin?” When she saw recognition in Chase’s eyes, she continued. “I think it would help him if you visited. And maybe those others two.”

“That’s not possible.”

Laurens’s heart turned to rock, thinking that this day had been a waste. Chase seemed to catch her expression. “Oh I mean Jackie and Marvin visiting, I’d be happy to. Just...they can’t.”

“Oh I see.” Laurens exhaled slowly. “Why?”

“Well...” Chase rubbed the back of his neck. “Marvin skipped town. He’s not answering any of my calls or texts. I think he’s mad at me but I dunno why. And Jackie...” He took a deep breath. “Jackie’s been missing for a few months now. He—he disappeared.”

“Oh, god.” Laurens’s mind went blank. What were you supposed to say to that? She didn’t know. “I-I’m so sorry.” That was the best she could do.

“It’s fine.” Chase paused, then sighed. “Well, no, it’s not, but thanks.”

“The police—you’ve told them?” She didn’t know why she had to ask it, but she felt she had to.

“Yeah, of course. But after five months, I think they’ve given up.” A new, hard light entered his eyes. “He’s still out there, though. It’s hard to knock Jackie down. He’s tough. I don’t know what happened, but I know he can handle it.”

Laurens gave him a reassuring smile. “Well, I hope it works out.”

“Thanks, doc.” Chase took a long drink of the tea, seeming to stare into the distance. “So...how’s Schneep doing? He’s alright?”

“Last I saw him, yes,” Laurens nodded. “It’s...it’s a bit of a roller coaster sometimes, but I think he’s getting better.”

“That’s good. Great.” Chase’s fingers were drumming a rhythm on the table surface. “Silver Hills has—has visiting hours, right?”

“Oh! O-of course. They’re on our website,” Laurens explained. “But the diagram can be a bit complicated, because they vary based on a couple factors. It’s safest to visit on Fridays, from three to seven.”

“Okay. Hang on a sec.” Chase reached into his pocket and took out his phone, opening it up and tapping for a bit. “That’s on my calendar now. I guess I’ll see you on Friday, then?”

“Yes, of course! I-I should get going.” Laurens pushed her chair back, standing up. “Thanks for the tea.” She said this despite not drinking most of it.

“No problem. Thanks for stopping by and, uh, filling me in on all this.” Chase nodded. “Do you want me to walk you to the door, or...?”

“I can see myself out, thanks.” Laurens smiled awkwardly. “See you on Friday. Goodbye.”

“Bye.”

Only ten minutes later, and Laurens was back in her car, contemplating whether to drive home or go to work anyway. On the one hand, she was loathe to miss anything that went on at work, and if she went now, she could barely make it in time for her session with Schneep. On the other, her headache was starting to blossom into a migraine, and her nose was stuffing up as well. She probably wouldn’t be able to concentrate like this, and a session done poorly wouldn’t do anyone any good.

After a few more moments of wrestling with this dilemma, she started her car and set off. It would probably be fine to miss one session. Dr. Newson could handle it. What’s the worse that could happen?

——————

One o’clock rolled around, and Dr. Newson strolled into Room 309. Schneep, who’d been pacing the length of the wall by the window, stopped, staring. He watched as she sat down in one of the chairs, setting Laurens’s notebook down on the table. “Hello, Henrik. Are you ready to start? Please sit down,” she said cheerfully.

Schneep stayed where he was. “Where is Dr. Laurens?”

“Oh, she called in sick today, asked me to fill in. I’m Dr. Newson. Please sit down.”

“Sick? With what?” Schneep’s eyes flicked over Dr. Newson’s shoulder. Two people came into the room behind her, closing the door behind him. “Who are they?”

“Don’t mind the orderlies, they’re here just in case.” Dr. Newson waved away his question. “Now if you would please sit down so we can start.”

“In case of what?”

“If you would please,” Dr. Newson’s voice hardened, “sit down.”

Schneep stayed where he was for a few seconds longer, before slowly walking over and sitting in the other chair. He crossed his arms, posture stiff.

Dr. Newson simply settled into the chair, folding one leg over the other. “So, I’m obviously not caught up on how far Dr. Laurens has got in these—”

“You could check in there.” Schneep nodded at the unopened notebook on the table. “She kept very detailed notes.”

Dr. Newson smiled. “Well, I know that. I’ve checked it, but given how detailed they were I wasn’t able to read it all. I’ve skimmed it, though. And that was enough to understand that she hasn’t gotten far in asking you about what really happened.”

Schneep narrowed his eyes. “What really happened when? About what?”

“Oh, you know.” Dr. Newson pulled Laurens’s notebook toward her, flipping open to a blank page. “How about we start with Christmas? Do you remember that night?”

“Do I remember that—you are not police, Doctor,” Schneep scowled. “They have already asked me about that. I do not think it is your place to do so.”

“Well, I’m just doing my job, Henrik.”

“Do not call me that.”

“Well alright, then. I’m just doing my job, Mr. Schneeplestein.” When Schneep opened his mouth to berate her for using the wrong prefix, she pushed forward anyway. “And I think it is important to my job if we discuss the events of that night. You remember, right? Those videos?”

“I had nothing to do with those videos,” Schneep insisted.

Dr. Newson laughed. “Well, you were in them, so I doubt that. Led the police on a merry overnight chase, making them keep watch for, what, twelve hours? It was quite a feat for you to pull off.” 

“I did not make those.” The words came out between gritted teeth.

Dr. Newson raised an eyebrow. “Well then, who did?”

Schneep didn’t answer. He seemed to fold in on himself, and his eyes flickered to the side. “I do not want to talk about it.”

“Oh, I get it.” Dr. Newson took a pen from her pocket and jotted a few words down. “You believe someone else did. Or was it that you thought someone was forcing you to?”

Schneep jumped, but then his eyes suddenly flashed. “I said I do not want to talk about it. I do not have to say anything to you.”

“Yes, you do, that’s why you’re here.” Dr. Newson looked up from the notebook. “Now let’s get back to the question at hand. Was there any particular reason for the Christmas incident? Did you want to try something new? Oftentimes sending letters, or videos in this case, to the police speaks of arrogance or says that it’s seen as a game. Was this a way for you to have fun?”

“Will you shut up!” Schneep sprang to his feet, slamming his hands down on the table. The two orderlies in the room jumped to attention. “Shut up and stop pushing your questions to me! I am supposed to have a chance to speak here and you are not giving it!”

Dr. Newson merely smiled. “Well, you weren’t answering, Mr. Schneeplestein.”

“Because you were not listening! I told you I do not wish to speak of it! Yet you keep asking and asking and—do you know how bothersome that is?!” He folded his arms again. “Maybe I will be ready to tell you about that night one day, but this is not that day. So shut up!”

“Mm-hmm. So you were involved in that somehow?” Dr. Newson made another note, seemingly unconcerned by the death glare Schneep was giving her. She looked up at him. “You want me to stop asking? What are you going to do to make me? Are you going to try to kill me?”

Schneep suddenly burst into laughter. Loud, screeching laughing that hit him so hard, he had to double over and lean onto the table. The two orderlies, now standing behind his chair, exchanged uncomfortable glances as he wore himself out, laughter fading to giggling as he slumped into the chair. He looked up, and there were tears in his eyes. “I do not know. Maybe I will. But I do not know. And I do not like that.” His voice was tired.

Dr. Newson stared at him. “Well, that’s good to know,” she drawled. “Maybe—”

“Maybe you really should shut your stupid mouth before it gets you in trouble.” The change of tone in Schneep’s voice was so sudden that Dr. Newson had to take a moment to recognize it as his. “Maybe you should just leave now since you clearly do not want to be here.”

Her lip curled. “I don’t think I ever gave any indication that I don’t want to be here. In fact, I didn’t even need to fill in for Dr. Laurens today. And there aren’t a lot of employees here willing to get close to you, so you should be happy you’re even getting a session today at all.”

“What, people are afraid of me? I wonder why.” A smile flashed across Schneep’s face. “Is not like I did anything to deserve that. Only that thirteen are dead and more injured.”

“Oh, I thought that ‘wasn’t your fault’,” Dr. Newson said, a sudden edge to her voice. “I thought you were ‘sorry’ about that.” 

“Two things can be true at once.” Schneep’s head slowly tilted to the side. “Especially when things are not in your control. Who is in control? And who is just playing pretend?”

“I don’t see how this is relevant, Mr. Schneeplestein.”

“But it is! You do not understand because you do not see. You do not see these things.” Another smile. “Perhaps your eyes are in the way. Would you like to get rid of them?”

Suddenly, Schneep lunged forward. Dr. Newson pushed her chair back, ready to flee, but the orderlies sprang into action. Before Schneep could get far, they managed to grab hold of him. It wasn’t an easy task. He kept twisting and wiggling his way out of their hold, and wasn’t afraid to lash out.

“Right, then.” Dr. Newson smoothed down the front of her shirt, trying to mask the way her heart had suddenly leapt into her throat. She picked up the notebook, tucking it under her arm. “I know the sessions usually last an hour, but I’m afraid we’re going to have to cut this short. Very short. Maybe you’ll see me tomorrow, maybe you’ll see Dr. Laurens tomorrow, who knows? Oliver, Theresa?” She nodded at the two orderlies. “I trust you came prepared?”

Maybe her question distracted them, maybe what happened next would’ve happened anyway. Schneep snarled “Let go of me!” and managed to get an arm free, shoving one of the orderlies away. Then he threw his weight against the other, who shrieked and fell—

Crack!

Time stopped. The world concentrated down into that single sickening crack, and the red that was suddenly decorating the sharp edge of the table. The orderly was still on the ground, a pool of identical red spreading from her head. It was a stain against the white floor, stark in the bright light.

Dr. Newson was the first to react, reaching for her pager. “Oliver, can we get a sedative while I page the med team?”

That sentence brought Schneep to his senses. “What? No! No, it was an a-accident, I did not mean—”

“That’s true. But two things can be true at once.” Dr. Newson’s voice was cold. “Oliver? Now, please?”

The orderly stopped staring, shocked, at his fallen coworker, and soon there was a needle buried in Schneep’s neck. Schneep gasped and stilled, though he kept muttering that it was an accident.

“You should probably take a good look around this room, Henrik, cause you won’t be seeing it for a while, if ever,” Dr. Newson said stiffly. “You’re getting a new one. On the first floor.”

Schneep’s eyes widened, before the sedative really kicked in and he closed them. Dr. Newson nodded, then looked down at the still orderly. “When the med team gets here, get them to take him to the medical wing, too. He can stay there until the new room is ready.”

“Yes, Dr. Newson.” The orderly hesitated for a moment, and then asked, “Dr. Newson, if I may...you’re sure about this?”

Newson sighed. “I should’ve done it a lot sooner, if you ask me. Rya convinced me not to, you know it’s hard to say no to her. But god.” She knelt by the orderly on the floor, picking up her wrist and pressing two fingers to it. “We can’t let it go further than this.”

——————

When Laurens arrived at work the next morning, she was immediately called into Dr. Newson’s office. Once there, she listened in shock as the entire story was told. “The new room number is 1010,” Dr. Newson said at the end. “I know the numbering makes no sense, but it’s in an older part of the building. And you’re now required to bring an orderly in with you whenever you visit. You know Oliver Hopkins? He’s volunteered.”

“Is...is Theresa going to be okay?” Laurens asked hesitantly.

“She had to be rushed to the hospital,” Dr. Newson explained. “Last I heard, she was still in critical condition.”

“Oh my god...” Laurens covered her mouth with her hand. She couldn’t help but feel that if she was here yesterday, she could’ve somehow prevented this. Guilt settled down into her stomach. “I hope she...well, I hope it’ll be alright.”

“Yeah.” Dr. Newson sighed. Her eyes drifted over to the picture frame on her desk. “While you’re here, is there anything else you want to talk to me about?”

“Um, well...” She wasn’t sure if this would sound in bad taste after this serious talk, but... “So, uh, residents on the first floor still have visiting hours on Fridays, right?” When Dr. Newson hesitated, she pressed. “You can’t take away visiting hours, those are required by the county board.”

“‘Unless there have been incidents wherein the patient has shown hostility to visitors,’ yeah, I know, I read the section,” Newson snapped. Then she took a deep breath. “Sorry about that. Just on edge. Yeah, it’s still Fridays, that’s the only day for most of the first floor patients. Why?”

“Well...yesterday, when I was home sick, I got a visitor.” Laurens was aware she was adjusting the story, but she didn’t want to sound like she’d been skipping out on her duties. “He said he was a friend of Sch—of Henrik’s, and that he just found out he was here and wanted to visit him. So I, uh, told him the hours and he said he’d stop by on Friday.”

“That’s three days away.”

“...yeah.”

Dr. Newson sighed, rubbing her temples. “Yeah, fine, that’s allowed. But you have to supervise it, okay?”

“Okay.” Laurens nodded. “I’m, uh...going to go find Room 1010 now.”

“Oliver knows the way, ask him to take you.”

Laurens did just that, finding the orderly nearby. Soon, she was following him down the corridors of the first floor. Unlike the ones above, the first floor was distinctly more...hospital-like, choosing to forego the wallpaper and carpeting of the upper floors, and replacing their lamps with fluorescent lights. There were also a lot more orderlies bustling about, all wearing that beige uniform that made them sort of blend together.

“So...you were there, yesterday?” she asked Oliver.

He nodded. “Yeah. It was...it was scary, man. Just all of a sudden there was yelling and then Theresa was on the floor.” He glanced at her. “Was...was that guy ever like that with you?”

“His name’s Schneep,” Laurens reminded him. “And...well, there were moments when he was loud, and sometimes seemed...a bit aggressive, but he never attacked me.” She bit her lip. “I wonder if Dr. Newson triggered that somehow...”

Oliver didn’t answer, merely looking back away. “Hey, we’re here. Room 1010.” They stopped outside a door that looked just like all the others. “I’m, uh, required to go in with you.”

“Yeah, Dr. Newson told me. She also gave me this.” Laurens pulled out a key card. While doors on the upper floors could open on their own, doors on the first floor were locked, though some of them could be opened from the inside but not from the outside. Laurens didn’t know if Room 1010 was one of those. She swiped the card through the reader next to the door. It beeped, and there was a click. Laurens pulled the door open and went inside, followed by Oliver.

The difference between the first floor and upper floors was even more evident here. Room 1010 was smaller, but also emptier. The only furniture was the white-blanketed bed, a circular table with rounded edges next to it, and a single, rather uncomfortable-looking chair next to that. A half-open door showed a connected bathroom beyond. As it was an internal room, there wasn’t a window, and the overhead lights were controlled with a single switch, no lamps anywhere.

Schneep was sitting on the bed, leaning against the wall and hugging the bed’s single pillow to his chest. He was wearing a simple white shirt and pants, which Laurens recognized as standard-issue clothing, since regulations on the first floor didn’t allow patients to bring any of their own. Schneep didn’t look up as Laurens crossed the room and sat in the room’s only chair. Oliver, meanwhile, hovered in the corner, seeming to sense that he had to stay out of this.

“Hi, Schneep,” Laurens said. “I’m back. Sorry I wasn’t here yesterday.”

He nodded. “Was not your fault. You were sick. I’m sorry.” That last statement sounded less like an expression of sympathy and more like an actual apology.

“It’s okay, it wasn’t your fault either,” Laurens said gently.

After a quiet moment, Schneep cleared his throat and asked, “The woman, the orderly from yesterday, is she alive?”

“Yes, she’s alive,” Laurens confirmed. Seeing how Schneep relaxed, she decided not to mention the critical condition.

He looked at her for the first time since she entered the room. And she almost physically started when she realized his eyes were rimmed with red. “It was not my fault. You know that, right? You believe that?”

“I know. I believe you.”

“You always do.” He nodded. “Or at least, you sound like you do. Even if you don’t and you only sound it, I appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem, Schneep.” And it really wasn’t. Laurens straightened. “Well, I have...news for you. I don’t know if you’ll see it as good or bad, but it’s news.” Schneep didn’t say anything, but he did sit up a bit. Laurens continued, “So, uh, yesterday, while I was sick, I met one of your friends. Chase. He said he...wanted to visit.”

A wide variety of emotions flickered across Schneep’s face. Surprise, joy, realization, worry, fear, consideration, then back to joy, though a bit tempered. “I think I would like to see him,” he said, squeezing the pillow tighter.

“I told him you would,” Laurens said. “He’s coming on Friday, three days from now.” She paused. “You think...you’ll be alright until then?”

A strangled laugh. “Is hard to predict. But I hope so. I would not want...anything to...happen.” The words were chosen haltingly, as if he was trying to find the simplest way to say it.

“Nothing’s going to happen,” Laurens said, surprising herself with the firmness of her own voice. “You’re doing good, you know. You can do it.” She wasn’t sure what ‘it’ was, but sometimes you just needed to hear it. “And I’ll be there that day, too.”

“That would be good,” Schneep agreed. For a moment, he was silent. “I...I do not feel like talking today. Would you leave, please?”

“Oh. Of course.” Laurens stood up. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

“Yes.”

Laurens left, finding her steps taking longer than usual. She glanced behind her one last time before leaving to see Schneep had buried his face in the pillow. She hesitated. Maybe she should stay...but he seemed like he wanted to be alone. In the future, she might be able to bring something so she could be alone with him. After all, there were times when that was really what was best. But she couldn’t, today.

She followed Oliver back through the first floor halls. “That was...different than I was expecting,” he admitted.

“It usually is,” Laurens agreed. “But people aren’t just one thing, you know?”

“...yeah, I think so.”

“Good.” Laurens took a deep breath, and sighed. Three days. She just had to hope things would improve in three days. And then she had to believe things would continue to improve from there.

And somehow, she did. Perhaps she was more optimistic than she’d thought she was, but she believed things would get better. They usually did.

[veronicassadboi]

Jeronica and Barchie + the kids at Hiram's funeral

I actually really enjoyed this prompt... a different outlook on things!

———

The fact that she was wearing Versace felt like a nod to Hiram, but the fact that Jughead was wearing navy blue Doc Martens that he had owned for ten years which was less than the amount of time that she had last spoken to Hiram put things into a cruel perspective that was all she focused on as Archie spoke. She’s transported nineteen years ago. Numbers ran through her head - statistics. Her father would be proud of her because you should always concentrate on the statistics, mija. You should always be focused. Numbers ran through Veronica’s head, nineteen years since Fred Andrews died, eighteen years since she first left Riverdale for New York. Eleven years since she had last held a proper conversation with her father. A note her mother told her to read is scrunched up in her hand, unable to bring herself to read it.

The eight year olds run around through the hallway with laughter in the air, Jughead had sat down with Ava to tell her about funerals, but she didn’t quite get it. He tried to tell her about Hiram, but he didn’t quite get that and it ended in a weird story about prisons, fraud and the Speakeasy. Not quite what Veronica wanted Jughead to regale to their daughter, but it had to do. Freddie listened in and for once, Archie didn’t pull his son away from an Uncle Jug special.

“I know what you must be thinking…” Archie said in that same soothing tone as always. Her nails clink on the pearls around her neck and the heat from Jughead’s gaze burns her but she ignores it.

“I don’t think so,” she mutters, watching her right high heel slide up and down her toes as she tilts her foot.

“Of course I do!” Archie says, patting her shoulder and leaning in closer. Jughead keeps his distance, of course he does, she thinks. Comforting was never her husband’s thing and the awkward conversations he had with her leading up to the funeral were just that; awkward, stiff and jittery.

Archie’s eyes brim with tears. Veronica tries not to grind her teeth out of sheer frustration, but to say that Hiram Lodge hated him would be an understatement. But Veronica knows that it just shows Archie’s whole heart, because only Archie Andrews could still hold sympathy for a man who tried to get rid of him… she chuckles to herself lightly without notice. Death threats and attempts were a funny thing.

“When my dad died…” Archie says but Jughead’s clearing of his throat cuts Archie off. For the first time in what feels like forever, Veronica looks up. Fred Andrews was still a sore subject to Jughead, still something that hadn’t healed over even for him. Still something that plays on his mind, Veronica knows. Jughead lost a father that day too.

Veronica sighs, placing both heels on the floor and looks Archie in the eye, “I love you for this, Arch,” she says gently. “But my dad was a bad man who everyone hated. Everyone loves your dad.”

“Come on bro,” Jughead says, tapping Archie’s shoulder. “Let’s go and see if Hermione needs anything.”

Jughead gives his wife a look that screams that he doesn’t want to be here, but he doesn’t want to leave her either.

As soon as the door shuts, she cries into a pillow in her old room.

----

A pretty girl with her mom’s smile and her father’s shocking red hair stands at the door wearing all black. Veronica sees Mary Andrews standing behind Maisie who gives Veronica a quick sympathetic smile and a gentle push on Maisie’s back. “Aunt V?” she almost whispers. “My mom wants to know if she can come in?”

If Veronica squints enough, she’d swear she was looking at Betty the day that they became best friends. Fifteen on Maisie looks exactly the same as it did on Betty, but, of course, with the red hair that belongs to her grandmother. Veronica sniffs and nods and the quick breath of relief that shoots through Maisie as she scurries away tells Veronica that she really didn’t want to even come to see her.

As soon as Betty arrived in the room, she laid down next to Veronica and let her sob into her hair. There were too many regrets, not enough forgiveness and now, no time left to fix things. Betty let Veronica tell her about how much she missed her father, how he left her a note; probably some bullshit thing about money, he never forgave her for marrying a Jones. Her mom was a total mess. She was a total mess.

“When you lose someone that you’ll never be able to work out the problems with, it causes a whole new problem. You’ll never know their motives or reasons behind anything… but eventually, you’ll need to let go. Not now. But eventually.”

Betty’s eyes offer more to Veronica than anyone elses words. Betty’s words struck Veronica hard. Veronica knows, if there was anyone who would understand even a little it was Betty.

Veronica sobs harder and a little longer on Betty’s shoulder and Betty brushes back her hair, continues to wipe tears. “You’ll be okay, V, I promise you.”

-----

Veronica wasn’t sure where to focus when her mind was on everyone else. Today, she was grateful for FP, Alice and Mary because as much as she wanted to think she was strong enough, she wouldn’t have the strength to support her mother. Heartache seems funny when you’ve always sworn you’ve hated someone. Veronica spent many years trying to decipher the art of love. It’s something she will never understand and it’s different for everyone. Jughead Jones is her walking, talking example. Veronica notices Archie’s eyes glued on his father’s headstone and Betty’s eyes flutter to her father’s vandalised one. Both with a sense of longing. As much as she knows Jughead didn’t want to be standing front and centre, the gesture gave Veronica a sense of ease as she stood in front of everyone with him by her side. Freddie and Ava don’t sit still, swinging legs and hissing at each other but Mary and Maisie try their hardest to calm the eight year olds. It distracts Veronica, but she realises she has to get it done. “Come on, Veronica,” Jughead says, trying to encourage her. “You’re almost finished.”

She looks at the messy notes she jotted down for the Eulogy. Dylan’s scrawl that looks so much like Jughead’s is scattered here and there - her son was a good writer, though nothing seemed to make sense to her when she tries to put it into proper functioning words.

“You might have to finish it, Dyl,” Jughead whispers to their son.

A groan is heard coming from Dylan, but Veronica can’t tear her eyes off her father. “I don’t want to talk.”

“Come on buddy,” Archie adds. “Do it for your mom.”

“I’ll take you for food after,” Betty tries.

“That doesn’t work anymore, Aunt B,” he sighs.

Veronica listens to the conversations around her but doesn’t dive in. It’s like she’s listening from the bottom of Sweetwater.

“I didn’t know my grandfather much,” Dylan says, sliding in between his mom and Betty, taking Veronica’s hand in his and holding it tight. Taking the floor.

Veronica’s eyes cloud with tears, she wants to smile at her son, encouraging him to keep on going because that’s what parents do - offer support when they need to give their kids every bit of strength they have. But his hand keeps her grounded because she can barely stand up.

“What I do know, despite all his flaws, my mom has always said she inherited her ridiculous strength from him. Her willpower and fight. Her hot-headedness,” Dylan adds with a wink to his mom. Veronica manages a smile. “Her drive and ambition.”

Veronica manages to look to the tiny crowd, some grins, mostly nods of approval.

Dylan lifts his mom’s hand to his lips and kisses it. “I know that she always said that he taught her that family always comes first - family over everything. And I guess that’s how they came to have the relationship that they had. Because mom chose us.”

The rest of the words blur out. Betty’s arm is around Veronica’s waist and her tears fall on Veronica’s Versace dress, an acute minor detail that she shouldn’t notice but she does. Maisie falls to Dylan’s side as he concludes the Eulogy, holding his other hand as they lower Hiram into the ground.

She had her entire family around her, but Hiram’s quiet whisperings in her ear never came, and for that, she felt nothing but heartache.

----

Veronica sits on her old bed in the Pembrooke, Archie’s laugh can be heard through the place and Jughead’s tone can be felt through the walls. The fact that Hermione had asked Jughead to write Hiram’s obituary made Veronica laugh and Jughead cringe, but he was roped into it anyway, asking Archie if there was anything he’d like to add to it. But Veronica knows her husband would do anything for her and if anyone was good at bullshitting words, it was him.

She clings on to the note her father had left for her, finally opening it up and smoothing its crinkled form against her leg.

The words blur when they’re hit with her tears; “I just want you to be happy,” is all it says.

“Mom?” comes from the door, black Chuck Taylors, a scar on his lip from a biking trip gone wrong with Uncle Archie and a denim jacket that is vintage Levis.

Dylan sits next to his mom, laying his head on her shoulder. She takes his hand, just like he took hers earlier and passes him the paper.

He reads the words with a look of confusion that replicates his father’s. “What’s this?”

“The only thing your grandfather ever got right… I just want you to be happy, son.”

——-

Send me a jeronica centric ft Barchie prompt and I’ll write you a >2000 word Drabble!

[hellzyeahthewebwieldingavenger]

Spider-Man: Life Story #4 Thoughts Part 1: Doc Ock Disservice

In retrospect issue #1 of this series was a mixed bag, issue #2 was bad, issue #3 was hot trash and now issue #4 is...

 Well...it depends.

See I usually try my best to write these basically as soon as I’ve read an issue. However a trip to my LCS and back is at least a 2 hour round trip and I had to head into work practically immediately after getting back. Consequently I’m writing this several hours later than I would have liked.

My initial gut feeling during and immediately after reading the issue was that this was a mixed bag. But ruminating on it more it’s gone down yet further in my eyes.

Maybe I’m not diving deep enough into it but my gut feelings on this (which is what these posts are, they’re not reviews where I try to be more actively analytical rather than ‘free style’ it) it’s...not AS bad as prior issues; issue #3 being the absolute nadir thus far.

Perhaps that is due to now knowing how messed up this series is I knew what I was getting into and what to expect thus I was less aghast by what I saw. Perhaps it was the fact that this issue, unlike issue #3, didn’t slap my intelligence in the face with asinine historical politics and the most aggressively stupid attempt to homage my fav Spidey tale, KLH.

However some of my...I don’t know the right term...my feeling less disdainfulness, towards this issue might stem from Peter’s age.

See when you do the math canon Peter Parker’s lifespan can be viewed as encompassing the amount of time covered in issues #1-3, that is to say ages 15-mid 30s. Thus there was a certain degree of precedence involved, a certain roadmap for us to compare LF Peter to.

But in this issue Peter is around 48 years old. This is well beyond the age of canon Peter Parker and only AU versions of the character have ever approached that age and being AUs they aren’t great sources for comparison. The closest thing we have is MC2 Peter Parker who was in his early 40s and different in his attitude and outlook to LF Peter. However that could be due to being younger, having his family and being retired for 10+ years thus making him more positive towards the prospect of being Spider-Man.

LF Peter is fed up, tired and wants to stop being Spider-Man. Any of the old enjoyment he ever derived from it is long gone. As is apparently his desire to remain ‘relevent’. Guess he got over that early mid-life crisis he went through in issue #3. You know that mid-life crisis that led to him using an alien performance enhancer that was allegedly addictive.

Actually more than a few of this issue’s problems can be owed to older issues, and specifically issue #3.

First of all...so America is still around. Um...yeah wasn’t there a war with Russia happening last issue? Wasn’t there a nuclear arms race that was hotter than the Cold War ever was in real life?

I suppose given how utterly unrealistic it was that Russia nuked an American town and then nuclear Armageddon didn’t ensue in issue #3, this issue is consistent in it’s boneheaded lack of realism.

And it does offer an explanation. Tony Stark’s weapons ended the war.

...Okay...we need to talk about this again and this time I’m going to spell it out.

So there has been no end of speculative fiction presenting stories revolving around a world where historical events happened differently.

A common example, embodied by the acclaimed show Man in the High Castle, is ‘What if the Axis powers won WWII’.

Life Story has at various turns presented real life historical events but injected superheroes in them whilst also showing them playing out differently.

Iron Man, Giant Man and Captain America went to Vietnam.

Captain America went rogue in Vietnam.

The Vietnam War lasted longer than in real life history.

Russia launched nukes at the USA and destroyed a town resulting in a super hero invasion on Russia and open warfare.

Said war was won by America apparently thanks to Tony Stark’s weapons.

Do you know the difference between Life Story and Man in the High Castle, or indeed most speculative fiction?

It actually explains what happened!

In Man in the High Castle we learn various pieces of the alternate history, among them being that the Axis powers developed atomic weapons before the Allies and nuked Washington DC, eventually winning the war and dividing America between the Third Riech and the Empire of Japan.

In Life Story we find out the Vietnam War lasted longer. Somehow.

In Life Story we find out Tony Stark’s weapons won the war with Russia. Somehow.

WHAT HAPPENED!

At best this is a pointless tease, it’s like sidestory world building. What’s the point of bringing the fact that this world’s history is drastically different but not bothering to elaborate on it at all.

Tony’s weapons won the war. What weapons? How did they win? Give us some details for God’s sake.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, the story isn’t about the Russian war or the alternate international politics, it’s about Spider-Man. But then...why the fuck is it in the story?

Shit dude, redraft Life Story a little bit and you could more or less exorcise ALL the stuff about international political conflicts and lose nothing. In the case of Kraven’s motivations last issue it’d be an improvement!

Look maybe I’ve got a bug up my butt about this more than most people because I studied history at university, but even putting that aside...it just feels superfluous to this story.

What gets me is that it’s veeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeery good money the only reason this shit is in the story is to evoke Watchmen (which ‘coincidenally’ is being revisted in Doomsday Clock by DC right now) which was also an example of speculative historical fiction involving superheroes. Which also explained what happened!

Superheroes existed. So they intervened in Vietnam. And they won because of their overwhelming power.

In Life Story we don’t even know who won the Vietnam War or even if it’s over yet!

Moving on a little, so Tony Stark and Peter are at logger heads. Now I dislike Spider-Man’s involvement with Iron Man in recent years but I have mixed feelings about this. On the one hand seeing Iron Man not be Peter’s mentor is lovely, but I wonder if Zdarsky was banking on audience familiarity with that dynamic from the films to create a shock moment by portraying a relationship between both men so at odds with what you see in Homecoming.

That wasn’t my first thought though. My first thought was Zdarsky is trading off of the Peter/Tony relationship from JMS’ run...which had nothing to do with the 1990s at all; we’ll talk more about that in a minute.

Finally, not content to write Peter out of character, Zdarsky apparently wanted to write Tony out of character too.

I am no Iron Man expert but by the 1990s...hadn’t he kinda sorta stopped making weapons!

I could forgive it in the older issues because Tony apparently didn’t get out of the arms business in the comics immediately like in the films, so it wasn’t inaccurate to the time periods. But I’m 90% sure he had stopped making weapons by the 1990s. Tell me if I’m wrong please, but if I am not....holy shit what is Zdarsky doing? How does aging in real time = Iron Man would still be a war profiteer?

Let’s leave Stark and the real life history alone and get into the real meat of this story.

Okay so we have Ben Reil-

Wait what?

*re-reads Life Story #4*

...there is something off with this...

*checks Life Story #2*

...um...Life Story #2 clearly states that Peter and Gwen’s clones took on the names Helen and Ben PARKER not REILLY!

Now Reilly makes a lot more sense from both a practical point of view (a guy who looks like Peter Parker with his last name raises questions) and from a referencing canon POV.

But what the fuck is up with the inconsistency?

Who was asleep at the wheel for that one! Oh...but it won’t be the only inconsistency by the way.

So Ben Reilly (who looks more like Ben Urich) is a photogra-

Wait, wait, wait. What again?

Ben Reilly is a...photographer?

...WHY??????????????????????

Look...Peter does have a certain passion for photojournalism, but he prefers science.

Ben Reilly in canon never even considered photography as a job to my recollection. He worked as a lab assistant, a barrista, a bouncer/body guard, a teacher but never a photographer even though that would’ve been an obvious profession to consider.

When Peter began working that job it was a way for him to earn the money he desperately needed to provide for himself and Aunt May whilst also not having his time eaten up with a 9-5.

Sure Ben is also a superhero (the Red Mask...I hope he didn’t dream that up himself...in the middle of a Cold War...) in this universe, but what is motivating him to do that? He’s got science smarts, he has legal documentation from issue #2 allowing him to hold jobs. Why would he not go into a field he both prefers and one that you’d think in a world where there was a war raging with intangible nukes would be of greater use?

I can think of some No. Prize explanations...but that’s the problem.

I  have to think of those explanations. The story, like so much else in this shitty series, doesn’t elaborate.

This goes beyond the characters being different for the sake of being different from canon.

Ben Reilly is doing something that demands an explanation within the context of this series’ unique continuity as established. It’s not even a matter of established characterization based on canon, it’s a matter of established characterization based upon the last 3 goddam issues.

This lack of thought equally applies to our main villain of the issue, Doctor Octopus.

So in issue #2/1977 Doc Ock had reformed because of a heart attack and all that good tender luvin care he got from a woman at least 20 years his senior; Zdarsky does know most people enjoy the May/Otto relationship ironically right, nobody actually thinks it makes sense or was a good idea, but no here it’s the crux of his whole character.

In issue #3/1984 he was...clearly a villain again because he’s obviously attacking Spider-Man in the double page spread depicting Secret Wars.

In issue #4/1995 we learn that Otto was at May’s funeral and this was the last time Peter saw him. Also according to Peter May left Otto long before she died and that was when he just disappeared, Peter presuming he retired in Florida.

So going by issue #4 alone we have something of a contradiction. If Otto disappeared long before May’s death...how could the last time Peter have seen him been at her funeral.

Maybe that’s just phrased a little badly and I’m nitpicking. Fair enough.

What isn’t fair enough though is either Zdarsky isn’t paying attention to his own writing, Bagley and he are not communicating properly or the editor is severely dropping the ball.

May and Otto were clearly NOT together in issue #3 when Otto was also clearly a villain and Peter clearly was aware of this because Otto was attacking him.

Which means Otto must’ve disappeared before then which means Peter would’ve known he hadn’t retired, he’d returned to villainy.

Now a point of praise, Otto blaming Peter for May leaving him, I think that rings true to Otto’s character, let alone an old aging Otto. This is the guy who often saw what he wanted to see, who infamously once wanted to nuke NYC to prove how he wasn’t to be taken lightly even though it’d also kill him too.

Too bad that point of praise is drowned out by his plan in this story which is all wrapped up in the clones.

Okay, okay, Doc Ock had a important role to play in the 1990s Clone Saga so what’s the problem?

The problem is that...I heavily suspect this isn’t riffing on the 1990s Clone Saga.

I think it’s much more likely that it’s riffing on the Ultimate Clone Saga in which Doc Ock was the mastermind behind the clones; coincidentally Bagley drew all three of the Ock Clone Saga tales which is a nice piece of historical symmetry.

Why...is....Zdarsky....riffing....on....a...Ultimate....Universe....story....?????????????????...from the 2000s!!!!!!!!

And in case the jury doesn’t accept that criticism here is another one. Otto feels he’s dying without accomplishing anything.

Um...wasn’t he working with Reed Richards in issue #2?

Otto working legitimately with a big brain like Reed surely would’ve in like 10 years accomplished SOMETHING! He invented so much crazy tech he really didn’t patent any of it, release it to the public?

Couldn’t his arms alone do wonders for disabled people?

I know this is comics so you should suspend disbelief because if you don’t you have to ask why fossil fuels even still exist.

But that’s the problem with this series.

It wants to have it’s cake and eat it.

It wants to show superheroes having a world changing impact on the world as they realistically would...but not go all the way with it.

It wants to have superheroes go to Vietnam and Russia have and use super powered people and intangible nukes but it also wants to ignore the obvious ramifications when it’s inconvenient.

This gets even stupider when you contextualize it within wider Spider-Man media. In the recent, heavily publicized Spidey PS4 video game (that Marvel is adapting as a comic book right now) Doc Ock creates his arms specifically to help disabled people and uses them because he himself is losing control of his motor functions. And in Ultimate Spider-Man cartoon (for 5 year olds) Doc Ock is disabled from the outset and entirely relies on his arms to move around.

So why the fuck did Otto at no point consider using that tech to help the disabled and thereby accomplish something in his life. It’s an obvious idea Reed, Peter or even May must’ve suggested. It probably could’ve helped someone as frail and infirm as May specifically.

We’re also told May left Otto due to his anger. Great use of telling not showing there Zdarsky. Remember how angry Otto seemed in his one other speaking appearance before now?

[calliecat93]

Dexter Grif Analysis, Part Two (Sorta)

I had been thinking of doing a follow-up to my Grif Analysis from last year... but this past season didn’t really provide much for Grif. At least, not enough for me to really do a full-on Grif: S17 Analysis. Maybe I’ll do one for Donut, haha. However we DO have the finale with him and Kai, and that IS analysis worthy. I already talked about it some, but I’m gonna do Grif more specifically and how this affects his characterization, both past and future.

Okay, so in the finale, we find out that all along, the draft story was a lie and that he indeed enlisted. Now, this debunks canon that people have been going by for many years now, though tbf the draft was NEVER brought up in canon until now while the enlistment was brought up at least twice (the very first episode and in S16). Not even the Fanguide mentioned it. Still, it does still debunk what people had been going by for a long time, so... what does this do to the character?

Well, let's think about it. So we all know that Grif had a shitty home life from what has been said in canon. His parents preferred Kai over him. His father was ’unstable’ and probably not in the picture much, especially since neither he nor Kai mention him in the S17 finale. His mother was a circus performer who also ‘turned tricks behind the Elephant cages’. He had to take care of Kai more or less on his own despite being... what, two or three years older most likely. And if The Labryinth is anything to go off on, he had an asshole gym teacher who more or less bullied him on some level, and who knows how many other people treated him like shit for whatever reason.

Grif’s life sucked, and there was nothing that he could do about it. He had no control over the situation and no way out of it. And as much as he loved his sister, his mom couldn’t give him what he wanted, and he knew it. So he tried to find a way to get what he wanted. To have some form of structure in his life. A way to take control and not have it be shitty. So he tried college away from Hawaii, and that didn’t work. I imagine that Grif didn’t have the motivation to put effort into his studies cause... well he’s a lazy person who hates all fo that, even if he is smarter and more fit than he’d ever admit. I mean, while it was from a PSA and technically not canon, he was smart enough to at least get accepted into Harvard. But it didn't work, and Grif had two options: go back home and resume his shitty life or try something else. He chose the latter, and he decided on enlisting.

One problem though. Telling Kai that he was leaving to go to college? That was probably something that she could understand. But the military? Which, if you recall, was at a time of a massive war. Grif could easily die, and as such, he’d have to tell his family about why he’d want to drop out of school and enlist. Which would be the right thing to do... but Grif would more or less have to tell his own sister that he wanted away from home and to have his own life. So, because Grif is an idiot who sucks at dealing with emotions, he decided to lie about it. He got drafted. He was leaving because he was being made to, not because he wanted to get away from his life. He now could avoid what would be a very painful conversation of trying to explain to Kai everything and risk upsetting her or make her feel like he was abandoning her willingly. He would never intentionally do that. He loves Kai more than anyone else. But she was a part of a life that he was tired of, and to get the structure that he felt that he needed, he had to leave her behind. And having to admit that to her was simply something that he couldn’t do. Lying was easier.

And what happened after? His life got worst. He was pushed even more than he likely was in school and he hated it. He found out about his family home being set on fire, and he felt too guilty to go back or reach out, and that’s even if he could by that point due to the military. He couldn't just quit one he enlisted, after all. If you believe the fanguide, he got sent to a doomed colony where he was likely miserable AND everyone but him ended up dead. Then after that, he’s re-assigned to Red Boot Camp and thus sold off as a SIM Trooper without even knowing it. And thus, Blood Gulch happened where he was surrounded by people that he hated and who hated him. Yeah, they cared about each other eventually, but still. Oh and then his sister shows up and now he had to make sure that she stayed safe AND avoid bringing up anything.

In other words, Grif quit on his family because he was sick of the constant struggles and tried to do what he wanted. As it turned out, what he thought was better for him wasn’t. It just left him miserable. And it wasn’t the last time that he did this. Look at Season 15. The season where he quit the team, essentially leaving behind his makeshift family. Why? Because he was sick of the constant struggles and decided to do what he wanted. In this case, he actually DID tell them to their faces the reason why instead of lying like he did with Sister, but it’s still Grif deciding that he’s had enough and doing something for himself. And, like before, it made him miserable. He no longer had anyone. There were no more adventures, but he also had no one with him but himself. That drove him crazy. He can’t stand being alone. He loves the Reds and Blues, and he realized that he needed them. It’s why he went back and he apologized the first chance that he got. 

He shouldn't have left the Reds and Blues, and that’s how he felt about Kai. He shouldn’t have left. It’s hard to not blame Grif for his choices. because... yeah, he had every right to call bullshit on a life that he hated and try to change it. Both times. But both times, he found himself in something worst and was just as unhappy as he was before as he found himself in situations beyond his control. It’s like no matter what he did, he couldn’t escape it. He was always going to be like a pinball, knocked around over and over no matter what he did. The fact that he never just tried talking out never helped. He never talked his feelings out to Kai. He never talked them out to the Reds and Blues. He kept running form his problems instead of just getting it over with to get through it as quickly as possible.

While S17 didn’t do a very good job of illustrating Grif’s development, it was still there. He had quit complaining about his the constant work, for example. And I think that the finale does illustrate that on some level, he did learn. He ends up in Kai’s Labryinth, and he finally decides to come clean about everything. How he lied. How he was unhappy and tried to find more structure for his life. How he hadn’t meant to cut Kai out, and he felt too guilty to bring anything up himself. And he outright says that whenever Kai wants to talk about it, he’ll do it. He’s willing to talk the feelings out, both his own and Kai’s. He never would have done this in the beginning of the series, not even with his own sister because he always avoided those kinds of talks. He did talk his feelings out some with Simmons in S15, which was a good step, but he still avoided talking in depth about it by just saying that he hated everyone, but he still needed them and was their ‘hateglue’. Yeah imo, he just said that as a copout to avoid talking any further about his actual feelings about the constant adventures, which he did finally talk about with Huggins a season later. So this is a big step forward for him as a person since he’s at least now willing to talk to his sister about everything.

So how does this affect Grif’s characterizaiton? I don’t think it changes too much. I mean, yeah he wasn’t drafted which may affect things some fan perceptions. But it is still using what’s been given in-show for him. He was still essentially forced into things beyond his control over and over again, even after his military service was more or less over. He never got anything out of it, at least at first. Remember how Doc didn’t mention him when he pointed out how everyone got what they wanted in S10? Yeah, because Grif hadn’t. He hated the military and was only then starting to not hate the people that he was stuck with. Has he gotten what he wanted now? To an extent. He has people that he loves and realized that he didn’t want to be without. He’s actually trying to work through problems now and starting to realize that he needs to talk shit out instead of avoiding it. But he still hates the constant adventures and he’s not 100% there yet, but he’s certianly progressing. Kind of like how Tucker has still been progressing these past few seasons. I’d say that at this point, Grif is starting to find that structure and is certianly int he place that he needs to be. The structure is still a little shaky and incomplete, but it’s certianly a work in progress.

Simply, Grif is in a better place than he had been before. As I said, he’s still got progress to make and S17 could have done a better job in that area, but he’s certianly on his way. I think what has to happen with him now is for him to start opening up to the others more like he was able to with Huggins, or at the very least to someone like Simmons or Kai. He can't control them getting dragged into another adventure, but if he can vent it out and have that support, he can endure it. He may still moan and groan about it some, but he’s not going to quit anymore, he’s going to work through it as quickly as he can. He’s becoming better, now he just needs to find some form of stability.

[joyful-soul-collector]

33/11/11 Tag

Rules: Answer the 11 questions of the person who tagged you, make up 11 questions, then tag 11 people to answer them. 

Thanks for tagging me @azawrites, @tracle0, and @ren-c-leyn! I decided instead of making three separate posts, it’s be easier to just put ‘em all in one spot.

Questions from @azawrites:

1. What makes you get up and write?

Whenever I have time really. If I have free time, you’ll catch me in front of my laptop, tryin’ to figure out a scene

2. Where and how did you get the idea for your wip (or past project)?

For AR, I was inspired by a webcomic called Patrik the Vampire, as well as a lot of tumblr posts about aliens reaction to random human stuff. 

3. What was the first thing you wrote?

I wrote a story about a girl who could make her imaginary friends come to life! She had two, Poofles, a giant grasshopper lookin’ thing, and Robo, a robot with a big feathery plume coming out of his head. Both are actually imaginary friends I had when I was younger. She fought crime with them!

4. Are any of your ocs based on someone you know?

I dunno about based on, but a lot of my OCs have similar traits to me. Jace is definitely the one who is most like me.

5. How long do you plan a project before you start writing it?

I'm not sure. I find that if I plan for too long, I lose interest. I tend to write and then peice a plot together as I go, and then I go back and edit it to the plot that I’ve thought up by the end. I’m not sure that’s the best way to go about it, but that’s what happens lol.  

6. Which books shaped your writing style?

Definitely Ready Player One and Harry Potter. I’d also say a few comics like Saga, Sweet Tooth, and Ultimate Spider-Man also helped. Both helped me develop how I do my characters and worldbuilding, but novels helped me more with the actual style.  

7. What’s your favorite oc quote?

Something Jace says: “Everyone has their own version of everything. Their version of fine, of giving up, of happy, and sad, of angry, and calm, of life in general. It’s just that mine is a little more… specific.”

8. Would you like to work as a writer, or have another career? 

Writing would be fantastic. If I could just write novels for the rest of my life and make good, sustainable money off of that, it would be a dream come true. I’m just not sure how possible that is honestly. 

9. Describe your writing space

We have one of those L shaped couches, and I sit right in the corner. Feels like a nice hug.

10. What are you reading now?

I’m reading the comic Saga, by Brian K Vaughan. Fun Fact: Jace was named after him, though his last name is spelled Vaughn.  

11. What do you do when you’re not writing?

I go to school, take care of my little sisters, and scroll on tumblr endlessly. 

Questions from @tracle0:

1) What’s the first book you remember reading? 

There’s this picture book called There’s A Hole in My Pocket, and that’s a first one I remember. It had little elephants, it was so cute.

2) What’s the first book/story you remember writing? 

I wrote a story about a little girl who could make her imaginary friends come to life!

3) What’s a piece of media (book, series, film, whatever) that you go back to when you’re sad? 

Avatar: The Last Airbender and Ready Player One.

4) Can you draw parallels between your OCs and characters in published fiction? If so, list a few (or all of them I’m not your boss)

I can’t think of any at the moment, though I know I’ve taken inspiration from my favorite books and shows.

5) Think of an OC. Any OC. Now express their general mood in their story in one (1) emoji.

Hazik: 😇

6) What’s a plot point that makes you cackle when you think about it because omg it’s such good writing?

There’s a chapter that’s got lil Jace in it. There’s also one for Hazik, but I like the Jace one better. I call them my Back To The Future chapters. 

7) Have you ever done an Accidental Smart in your writing? If so, what?

I apparently wrote a bunch of stuff while I was hella tired at like five am. I barely remember doing this because I’d stayed up real late the other night too, so I was even more tired that normal. I opened the doc a day later and there was the entire backstory of why Hazik was on Earth.

8) What songs do you associate with your stories? 

AR goes with: Mimir from the God of War 2018 soundtrack (at the more serious moments), To All of You from the Life Is Strange soundtrack, and Anyone Else But You from the Juno soundtrack.

9) Are you better at dialogue or description? 

Dialogue definitely. 

10) Have you ever gotten better at doing something because you put it in a story and had to research? If so, what? 

Better at reciting facts about scar types, and 

11) Have you had a drink of water recently? Go on, drink some water. It’s good for you.

Nope! Thank you for the reminder!

Questions from @ren-c-leyn:

1. Favorite literary device?

Motif. There are quite a few in AR, so ya know, might wanna look out for that ;)

2. What is the hardest thing for you to write? (setting, details, dialogue, ect.)

I cannot do setting. Sometimes I accidentally write everything except where the characters ARE, and they’re just talking heads in a place only my brain can see.

3. What is the best advice you have ever gotten?

If you look at your old writing, and see that it sucks, that just means you’ve gotten better.

4. Is there a detail or particular bit of description that seems to come up in your writing a lot?

Colors. Red in particular. Also, the phrase “Amazing, actually.” These are totally not motifs at all. Pay absolutely zero attention to them.

5. Name a trope you love and will read/watch to death.

Angsty person with a sad backstory gets a nice happy ending

6. Is there any writing advice that kind of stole your motivation and made you feel bad instead of helping?

My friend can be blunt, and I asked her to read on of my things once and she got on one of the lines that I really liked and just tore into it. I didn’t end up deleting it though, her reasoning wasn’t good.

7. Do you do anything creative outside of writing?

Not really. 

8. Favorite fairytale?

Jack and the Beanstalk!

9. Do you like playing visual novel games?

Yeah! I play Choices and The Arcana all the time! I’ve also played Life Is Strange and Oxenfree, which aren’t technically novel games but they are story oriented.

10. Where do you tend to get your best ideas from?

Watching movies and TV shows 

11. Scariest part of writing for you?

The part where other people edit it. I’m always scared they’re gonna hate it. I want people to edit it, and I want them to give their honest opinion, but some people can be more mean than helpful. 

My questions and people I’m tagging are under the cut!

I’m Tagging: @tracle0, @quirky-squid, @masksandmadness, @alexis-writes-sometimes, @albatris, @gabbysmadness, @txintedsxint, @timetravelingpigeon, @thel3tterm, @necromancymajor, @kai-writesstuff

My Questions for you all are:

1. What is your favorite OC quote?

2. What’s your favorite font?

3. Which OC has the saddest backstory? (or the least happy?)

4. Which OC has the happiest? (or the least sad?)

5. What’s a vague spoiler for one of your WIPs?

6. Do any of your WIPs carry the same themes? What themes?

7. What are your favorite character/situation tropes?

8. What do you like most about yourself?

9. Which on of your ocs is your favorite character to write?

10. What is the longest you’ve ever written for?

11. Favorite food?

[feynites]

So that post I made about villain x hero relationships and power fantasies has gotten a lot more popular than anticipated, so just for the record:

- It’s not about Reylo. It’s not about any particular ship. It’s about what it’s about. The concern and confusion over villain x hero ships has been around fandoms for at least as long as I have (so, minimum twenty years), and probably longer. I’m pretty sure at some point, someone in my grandma’s generation put down their latest zine and called up their friend just like ‘Matilda what the hell Khan is evil you can’t have Kirk seduce him that’s morally reprehensible’.

- That said, if someone feels like that post is a useful description of their inclination to ship any given ship, then it probably is and I hope that’s helpful insight for them. Personally I’ve found that knowing where I’m coming from is the absolute best way to make stories that 100% appeal to me, and also leave out the stuff I don’t actually want in them, because I know it’s unnecessary. Like, did you know that you can absolutely appeal to this fantasy by making a character who is powerful, intractable, and mistaken, but without actually making them evil at all?

- Of course, there are definitely other possible motivating factors for shipping any given ship, so I am, again, talking specifically about what I’m talking about in that post. Which is that converting villains, rather than killing them, is often representative of a particular power fantasy. I mention shipping a fair bit, but it doesn’t even need to be ship-y at all. You can have the same basic appeal with friendship or familial relationships. Adopting the villain is pretty popular for the same reasons, especially in time travel fics and stuff.

- There are also almost always a lot of things to criticize in a ship or fandom. Something not necessarily coming from a bad place does not mean it’s inherently good, either. That post is not meant to be taken as an argument against all criticism. I think I actually say that IN the post but so many people think I’m vague blogging to dissuade fandom critics. If I’m trying to dissuade anything it’s seeing someone else going ‘but why Matilda, for the love of god, why?!’

- I actually, honestly mean it when I say that you should think carefully about your power fantasies when you indulge in them. Not just because they can lead you to make positive associations with stuff that’s actually a red flag in real life, but also because the desire to feel powerful (even in fantasies) is pretty open to abuse and exploitation. Both in the sense of manipulating someone who wants to feel powerful, and in the sense of disregarding and undermining anything that doesn’t feed into your desire. 

- Also, on the reverse of fretting less about other people’s inclinations towards certain dynamics, sometimes engaging with villains and villainous tropes really does mean that you end up writing stories with negative themes and implications. This is another reason to consider stuff a lot. Writing is like 50% thinking and 40% actually writing. And 10% screaming (internally or also sometimes out loud).

- On a final note, I am sorry to burst some bubbles but this fantasy really, truly is not inherently virtuous. You can have the dynamic of heroes getting villains on their sides be totally ignoble. Prioritizing social power can easily lead to dynamics of enslavement, exploitation, abuse, and brainwashing, just to name a few. And if you’re thinking ‘that doesn’t sound very heroic’, just keep in mind that Doc Savage, in his heyday, used to send his defeated enemies to a facility where they were mentally reprogrammed into law-abiding citizens. Commander Shepard in Mass Effect can choose to change the opinions of an entire station full of sentient AI’s, and that is considered the paragon choice. A hero’s moral compass is only as true as it is written to be.

Okay now you can all go back to your regularly scheduled business and stuff. Thus concludes my rambling.

[eastithoughtyousaidweest]

Malaysian Persuasion

7/17

Today was my first full day in Malaysia, and it was probably almost perfect.

First of all, it was so chill. Amalen also had just gotten home from a trip to China, so he just wanted to chill out, which was ok with me because I’ve been waking up at 6 or 7am to either work on my doc or travel for the past 3 weeks. So I woke up at 10am without an alarm (after drinking with him and his roommate until 3:30, to be fair), and it was really nice.

We spent the morning just hanging, just like a bunch of guys might do in the U.S. We slowly worked up the motivation to drive down the street to get some breakfast around 11:30am, and got some rice with fried pork and chicken called char suey. Pretty delish, despite being a bit heavier than my usual breakfast. I also found a dude selling buns out of his truck, and he had a bunch of flavors they didn’t have in China; I tried one with this coconut sugary paste inside called kaya, which was less coconut than I expected, but the bready bun was still floofy, which is really all I’m looking for.

We whittled away a few hours eating, chilling and watching the first new episode of Game of Thrones, which I was totally fine with, even though usual me would’ve been like “Why the fuck am I sitting around watching TV while I’m in Malaysia???” But honestly, I saw value in just building a relationship with Amalen and his roommate Kelvin, and didn’t see a need to force anything, especially when they were my hosts.

Anyway, around 2pm, Amalen and I started driving out to this waterfall in the jungle he’d been promising me all day. It was an hour and 20 min drive, but we just caught up and talked the whole way, so it was actually really nice. Before entering the jungle, we stopped and got a bunch of fried snacks from this stand in a parking lot, Amalen chatting up the older Muslim woman selling us the treats as if they were besties. People here at stores seem to really like chatting, and Amalen’s a pro at playing that social game.

To get to where we were going, Amalen had to drive his thankfully tiny white car down a skinny asphalt road, riddled with treacherous potholes, through an indigenous village with homes made of wood and tin roofs, and finally to a barrier where we parked. He comes to that spot a lot, and knew some of the indigenous people there, and he actually spoke in Malay to a few people we saw to make sure it was still ok to enter, so I knew we weren’t being disrespectful or something by entering this land.

And I’m so glad we were able to enter, because it was mind-blowing. Thick, lush, green rainforest all around me, buzzing and chirping with bug and bird hums, crinkling with the panicked retreats of tiny lizards, speckled with the sun sneakily glimmering its way through the cracks. It was sticky and humid, but not too hot. As we went, Amalen pointed plants out to me and showed me signs on the trail of wild boar having been there the previous night. Wild boar are super overpopulated in that area of Malaysia, destroying trails and crops, so Amalen told me hunting them, like deer culling in the U.S., was usually ok. And he broke out a pocket knife he’d sharpen before we came out to the jungle, so I knew if anything, we were at least pseudo-safe.

Luckily, no boar hunting went down. What did go down is that we finally arrived at this amazing waterfall Amalen called his secret waterfall. It flow down along grey boulders, white and frothing, pouring out into a rocky-bottomed pool deep enough to stand in. When we walked up to the waterfall itself, we could face away from it and just let the water work the tension out like a natural massage. The water was not too cold, and the area was totally isolated. We sat on a rock, ate fried plantains and egg rolls and doughnuts from the stand, swam and got waterfall massages, and just relaxed. After weeks of running, it was exactly what I needed. And I was so grateful to Amalen for taking me to such an amazing place I literally never could’ve even accessed on my own.

Only downside? Leeches. It sounds freakier than it is, but essentially, they were tiny, slug-like things, smaller than the top part of my pinky, who would latch onto our feet or legs after we walked through certain areas. Amalen helped me, teaching me how to use a pocketknife to scrape them off after they latched. They left me with tiny little circular cuts, which actually bled for a while because apparently their saliva is anti-coagulant. But they didn’t hurt, and really, it’s not different than a mosquito or something, just a bit more graphic.

Anyway, that didn’t take away from anything. Afterwards, we met up with Amaeln’s friend Ryan at a food court, where I tried satay (chicken on skewers with peanut sauce to dip in), coconut rice with spicy sauce, anchovies and egg, and panak (a sort of sushi roll but in a wheat wrap, with crunchy vegetables and some sort of tempura inside). We also bought ourselves three more-than-half-liter bottles of Tiger Beer from Singapore. We had just finished them, and I was feeling a solid buzz, when Ryan’s dad showed up out of nowhere and ordered us three more bottles. So we were obligated to get way drunker than any of us anticipated, but hey, we swapped stories about our countries, joked around a bunch, and really has an awesome greasy, drinky night.

I pre-screened my doc to Amalen and Kelvin tonight too. It was really cool to see how Amalen got so excited about certain parts, and how much discussion it generated afterwards about COP and Amalen’s NGO, even between two people who are in it. I’m really pumped to see how more people like it, and really happy to see the impact it’s making for those in it.

Exploring KL tomorrow with Kelvin. Night night.

<3Scaht

7/18

Damn. So much socializing today. Like 11 hours of it. But it was great.

Started off by heading into KL with Kelvin, who grew up here. He took me to get a really good outdoor food stall court, which there are a bunch of here, in Chinatown. There was food everywhere, but I trusted him to know what was good, so I let him order this spicy red coconut curry for us, brimming with crispy fried pork skin, oysters, green vegetables and eggplant. It was so delish, until I bit into a pork skin saturated with curry and it burst straight into my throat like a juicy grape full of spicy fire. Totally burned the shit out of my throat, but luckily dessert was a cup of shaved ice (really finely ground ice covered in coconut milk and supplemented with various jellies and red bean), so I was soothed soon enough.

We then spent like 5 hours walking all over KL. He took me to the Independence Square where a lot of protests have happened, to the looming, corn-cob-looking Petronas Twin Towers, to some fancy-shmancy malls, to a fruit stand where we drank some coconut water straight outta the coconut, and to Little India. On the way, he told me SO much about Malaysia, from its history as a British colony to the politics and issues with election rigging to the school he went to and what it was like, and so much more. He was a really great tour guide, and since he’s around my age and we have similar interests, he was able to provide me much history into the politics and social issues I’m always interested in learning about.

One thing he told me that really stood out is that he loves just taking people around the city, and that if someone asked him for directions, he’d usually be happy to just walk them there. He said that was actually a pretty common thing to do here. Also, when I tried to pay him back for the food, he told me to not worry about the money. He said that really in Malaysia, they like to treat their guests, and they try not to let money be a big deal between friends, so it’s a big part of their culture to do that. These two things really struck me because they’re just so much friendlier and communal ways of supporting one another than in the U.S., where most people don’t wanna talk to you at all in the city, much less walk you somewhere, and where even $0.25 is often Venmo’ed between friends. I wanna bring back some of that hospitality to my own practices, because it definitely reflects the way I’d like people to interact.

Next, I met with Jolene, one of the Malaysians who was part of my film, for dinner in a hipster part of town called Bangsar. It 3 or 4 hilly streets were lined with international cuisines, fancy bakeries and cafes, boutique clothes, and bars trying very hard to look chill and/or refined. We actually got a really good dinner at a Nyonya restaurant, which combines Malay and Chinese styles; a whole fried fish and these smoky, fishy sautéed greens, plus fancy cocktails. We chatted about life and joked around, and I really enjoyed just getting to know her better. Of course, she treated me, which was super nice cause these were no street food prices.

Last, she texted her friend Sidney to meet up with us, an awesome guy who actually filmed some follow-up interviews for the film for me here in Malaysia since I wasn’t here. I hadn’t met him in person until then, but he was really great. Deep thinker, really open about things like mental health and insecurities, and really into films. We nerded out over cameras and film editing and our favorite movies, and he actually ended up coming with me to this huge food street called Jalan Alor, which was lined for about 2 city blocks with restaurants and stalls selling Thai, Vietnamese, Chinese, Malaysia, coconut ice cream, dim sum, and a whole lotta stanky durian. If you don’t know, durian is a huge spiky fruit, like the size of a football or bigger, which smells kind of like fart or rotten eggs or a combo thereof. Kelvin, who loves it, actually told me he wouldn’t consider it a fruit, but just its own food group: Durian. He also told me that if you eat it within 8 hours or so of drinking alcohol, it’ll fuck up your stomach. So I haven’t tried it yet, but I want to for sure.

Anyway, it was really special to explore the city with all of these people and build up my relationships here. I’m so grateful for the guidance and the hospitality, and I REALLY hope they can all make it to the States one day so I can return the favor.

<3Scaht

7/19-7/20

It has come to an end. These were my final 2 days in not just Malaysia, but of my trip overall. And I think it couldn’t have been more fulfilling and shitshow-y.

Wednesday I wandered around the city on my own, hitting up the National Museum where I learned a whole lot about the history of the Malay Empires and how Malaysia was a key trading midpoint between China and the Middle East and the history of colonialism in Malaysia and all sorts of other cool stuff. As any U.S. citizen would know, we just don’t really learn that stuff in our schools, and it was super cool to gain all this knowledge about a totally different part of the world.

One thing it made me think about was the idea of cultural appropriation, because the museum talked a lot about how in the 14th and 15th centuries, as people from different regions met up and traded goods and skills and ideas, many cultures adopted parts of other cultures. This meant anything from parts of their dress to artistic motifs to cooking flavors. I thought this was really interesting, because it was made out to be a very mutually beneficial kind of cultural exchange, as opposed to in the U.S. today, where the conversation about cultural appropriation emphasizes the stealing of other’s cultures. I think maybe the difference is that often in places like the U.S., the cultural appropriation is done for profit, or without an actual interaction with the people whose culture it is, leading to disrespectful use of cultural elements and profiting off other’s culture without giving them any credit or economic compensation. In contrast, it seems like in these old Silk Road trade exchanges, people were actually sharing their cultures of their own accord, and interacting with those whose culture it was. Not that this means there wasn’t any ripping off of cultural elements or fetishzation of other’s cultures, but it makes me wonder if this sort of cultural mixing can happen in a positive and beneficial way that enriches humanity.

Wednesday night was the big night: the “world premiere” of my film on the Malaysian Youth Delegation (MYD) to the COP21 climate negotiations. I’ve mentioned it throughout the blog, but to give you more context, I got a grant from my university in November 2015 to go with my friend Miranda and make a film on youth climate activism at COP21, the international UN climate negotiations where the Paris Agreement was created. We ended up meeting the Malaysian Youth Delegation, a group of 5 young peeps who were there for the first time representing their country. We hung out and filmed them for 10 days, and then over the past year and a half have been editing it together. Why’d it take a year and a half, you ask? Broken harddrive, Miranda graduating, me finishing school, general procrastination; these all comprise some aspect of the answer. But in a silver lining to a terrible event, Trump pulling out of the Paris Agreement actually made the film relevant again, so I kicked myself into gear, committed to going to Malaysia, and have been working on the film at 6 or 7am almost every day of this trip to finish it before, well, two days ago.

The film came out to about 40 minutes, the longest film I’ve made by far (the next longest is only 12 minutes). Screening it was an awesome experience; 4 out of the 5 main MYD members were there, and about 8 of their younger members who they’re currently training to go to the next COP in Bonn, Germany were there as well. Screening a film to a group of people who are so intimately familiar with each other and the material is a cool experience; they were constantly giggling at seeing themselves or their friends onscreen, and they already understood the context of what was going on, making it easier for them to get into it. They also laughed at my jokes throughout the film, which I think is every filmmaker’s dream; it’s really hard to tell whether the things I think are funny are gonna land with an audience, but I think it went pretty nicely.

I did a Q&A after the screening where everyone asked a ton of questions, and it was really nice to be able to share my experiences and reflect on things with them. Overall, in the moment the whole screening just felt like a really casual thing; we were just in a classroom, watching it on a projector. Very intimate. But I gotta say I feel pretty amazing that I was able to make this happen. There was a long period of time where I thought this film was just gonna go incomplete, and it really made me feel guilty and weighed on me a lot. Now, that weight is finally gone, and I have a project that I actually followed-through on which I am really proud of. I’m hoping to submit it to some film fests too, so hopefully things will keep happening. But I’m really grateful that I was able to do this screening, and that I got so much time and energy and support from everyone in MYD, and everyone else who listened to me whine about this film over the past year and a half.

My final 12 or so hours in Malaysia were the shitshow part. Amalen, Kelvin and I had planned to drive to Kuantan, a small town on the east coast of the country where Amalen grew up. It was supposedly a 3-hour drive away, so we set off around 12am after a little post-screening dinner, hoping to arrive by 3am. The catch was that I had to take a bus back to KL the next day at like 1:30pm, so I really would only have like 10 hours in Kuantan. But I did it because Amalen promised me some beach time, and I didn’t really have much else to do.

Oh, and I should mention that we brought Amalen’s cat Jenny along too, because Amalen wanted to get her spayed at the vet in his hometown. Unfortunately for her and us, he didn’t have a carrier. Apparently, in the past, she usually just chills out under the passenger seat and is fine. But today for whatever reason, Jenny was not happy. She kept scrambling up to the rear window, then down under the seats, then up my legs into a box on the seat next to me, then under Kelvin’s feet as he drove. We all tried to make nice spaces for her and calm her down. but she took at least 30 minutes to finally just sit down and start distracting herself by licking herself clean. Poor kitty.

Anyway, I should’ve known things weren’t gonna go so well on this trip when about 30 minutes into the drive, we stopped for gas and Kelvin puked in the parking lot. He had some sort of stomach bug, and it all hit him right there. Of course, all the gas station convenience stores were closed, so he couldn’t even get some water to wash his mouth out.

Somehow, he kept driving, and we drove up to the Genting Highlands, a detour Amalen and Kelvin had planned without me really knowing what was happening. It’s these really high hills where Malaysia’s only legal casino is built. We drove up and around all these hairpin turns, the yellow lights of this massive casino glowing all across the peak of this looming hill. Eventually, we stopped at a lookout point where you could see the KL skyline and chilled for like an hour, drinking beers and chatting. That was all good, except for when Kelvin started puking again. Turns out beer doesn’t mix so well with stomach bugs. Who knew?

Amalen took over the wheel, and we kept going. At this point it was already like 3am and we’d only made it like 45 minutes towards Kuantan cause of all the detours. I did my best to stay up and keep Amalen company as he drove, but I could feel the exhaustion and the beer dragging my eyelids down like stones. I drifted in and out of conversation, nodding a lot with my eyes half open before finally passing out. Amalen ended up pulling over in a parking lot around 4:30, planning to snooze for like 15 minutes. We woke up at 6:45am.

In the end, the snooze was for the best to keep up safe, even though we didn’t actually arrive til like 8am. An 8 hour trip total. And I had to head back at 1:30pm. So much for a 3 hour drive.

At this point, I was also just exhausted and hungover and my stomach felt like butt. Some combination of the fried food I had eaten for dinner and the beer and the lack of sleep made my body real pissed off, and pretty soon my tummy opened up the floodgates. I felt weak, and had a headache, and even the smell of food made me feel nauseous. But I pushed through, determined to get to the beach and just pass out on the sand. Which I did.

We chilled at the beach for like an hour and a half, and I even worked up the energy to sit in the waves a bit and look at all the tiny little crabs that would scatter into holes in the sand as I approached. So at least I can say I’ve been in the South China Sea, even if only as an attempted hangover cure.

Amalen drove me to the bus station at 1pm, and I’ve been in transit between bus and train and plane since then. Amalen was a super awesome host, giving me a place to stay and taking me to get all the staple Malaysian food and showing me some really beautiful parts of his world in Malaysia. I also really enjoyed the long car trips where we just got to talk and get to know each other’s stories and life philosophies better. He’s a really thoughtful, knowledgeable, goofy dude, and he cares a lot about his friends, which I really respect. It really blows my mind that, because of a random thought me and Miranda had to apply for a grant to go to Paris, I now have lifelong friends on the other side of the globe. Life is pretty dope like that.

So yah, that’s all. Hope you enjoyed perusing my travels, and if you have any questions or things to say to me or want some travel suggestions, hit me up through one of the ridiculous amount of communication channels I now have (WeChat, Facebook, Text, WhatsApp, GroupMe, Email, Signal, whatever).

Annyeong kyeseyo (Korean)

Joigin (Cantonese)

Zài jiàn (Mandarin)

Pope gone mai (Lao)

Selamat tinggal (Malaysian)

Byeeee (Scott)

[weekendwarriorblog]

WHAT TO WATCH THIS WEEKEND Feb. 1, 2019 -  MISS BALA

It’s Super Bowl weekend, and you know what means, right? No, I don’t either, but normally, the Super Bowl has an effect on Sunday box office as people will go to Super Bowl parties or watch it with friends which makes it less of a necessity to go to the movies, so anything opening needs to make sure to do well on Friday and Saturday. Into that market comes a female-driven action thriller that might benefit from having a weekend to itself.

MISS BALA (Sony)

Directed by Catherine Hardwick (Twilight, Thirteen, The Nativity, Red Riding Hood) Written by Gareth Dunnet-Alcocer Cast: Gina Rodriguez, Anthony Mackie, Ismael Cruz Cordova MPAA Rating: PG-13

The only wide release this weekend is this female-driven revenge thriller starring the beloved Gina Rodriguez from Jane the Virgin, which is based on a 2011 Mexican film that was Mexico’s Oscar submission that year. (It didn’t even get nominated.) The film was popular enough that the producers found a studio interested in a remake starring one of the more beloved LatinX actors from recent years.

Although Gina Rodriguez has never received an Emmy nomination, she’s received three Golden Globe nominations, all for Jane the Virgin, winning with her first nod in 2015.  She hasn’t quite made a name for herself in the movie realm, mostly voicing roles in animated films and having small roles in last year’s Annihilation and Deepwater Horizon. (I hate to say this, but I still sometimes get her mixed up with Fast and Furious star Michelle Rodriguez, but they are indeed two different people.)

It also stars Anthony Mackie, who was last seen in Fox’s The Hate U Give, but who has really exploded as a star after being cast as The Falcon for Marvel Studios’ Captain America: The Winter Soldier, appearing in a couple Marvel movies since then.

Miss Bala is following in the same general genre realm as 2018’s Proud Mary, starring Taraji P. Henson, which opened with just under $10 million on MLK Jr. weekend and grossed $20.9 million, or Jennifer Garner’s Peppermint, which grossed $35.5 million after opening with $13.4 million. Oddly, both those movies opened on weekend with much stronger competition – Liam Neeson’s The Commuter and The Nun – which is not something Miss Bala has to worry about.

Although I’m not sure Miss Bala  can make huge waves, it should do well among urban audiences and maybe more among women than the typical action thriller might, although this is usually a male-driven genre. Unfortunately, Sony is only opening it in roughly 2,000 theaters, probably focused on those urban markets, maybe hoping to get in some of the LatinX audience who make up a good percentage of moviegoers these days. Much of the recent marketing is focusing on the amount of LatinX people involved with making the movie, so they’re clearly hoping to get some of the business of Pantelion’s bigger releases.

Mind you, last weekend, The Kid Who Would Be King opened much MUCH lower than expected, and I expect this sort of ennui to affect Miss Bala as well. An opening in the $7 to 8 million range should probably be expected, which might allow Glass to remain #1 for a third weekend despite the Sunday competition from the Super Bowl.

Mini-Review:

It’s been so long since I saw the Mexican movie Miss Bala, all I really remember of it is that it’s about a beauty contest winner who gets caught up in the war on drugs between the DEA and Mexican gangsters, and with the relationship between Mexico and the U.S. so much in the news, it makes sense that a studio would want to remake it for American audiences.

In this case, it’s Gina Rodriguez’s Gloria, an L.A. make-up artist who travels down to Tijuana to support her friend Suzu, who has entered the Miss Baja competition – again, Gloria is there just to support her friend -- and yet, when they go out to a nightclub, Gloria witnesses the Estrella gang showing up to shoot up the place and kill the police chief. Suzu gets lost in the melee, and next thing Gloria knows, she’s taken by the gang, whose leader Lino (Ismael Cruz Cordova) takes a liking to her. Trying to escape, she ends up encountering the DEA who wants to use Gloria to keep the Estrella gang in their sights.

That’s probably all you need to know as Gloria is passed around and put to work by both Lino and his gang, the DEA and other factions, all who see her as a way to end the ongoing war.

There’s no question that Rodriguez is a talented actress, something she shows off repeatedly, as she acts scared, acts upset and basically acts her way out of any bad situation into which she’s put. In fact, she’s so much better than every other actor around her, that makes it obvious how bad the other actors are.

Similarly, Catherine Hardwicke has enough experience as a filmmaker to make this work, but she’s clearly working from a script that just doesn’t have enough meat to keep it going, so the film’s pace is all over the place. We get a big shoot-out one minute, then Gloria and Lino are out on a quiet but out-of-place date the next. Over an hour later, we’re BACK at the beauty competition, which you keep thinking has been taken out of the story equation, because it seems like such a non-entity at that point. Not that the beauty contest ever seemed like that big an aspect of the original, but at least it was used as the set-up for the lead character’s journey rather than a plot device shoehorned into her story.

There’s so much that could have been said about this piece in terms of the way women are used as objects for trading and trafficking, but that aspect of the movie gets lost in the interest of making it a cool gangster flick that doesn’t lose the LatinX women watching it… but probably will anyway.

Miss Bala has guns, explosions, a decent guideline to work from and Gina Rodriguez, so why is it still so frickin’ boring?

Rating: 6/10

With that in mind, this week’s Top 10 should look something like below, and it’s likely to be one of the worst weekends of the year with the Top 10 grossing less than $50 million….

UPDATE: A couple minor changes due to actual theater counts being a little different from my earlier estimates, although the most significance addition is Peter Jackson’s They Shall Not Grow Old, which is re-opening into 735 theaters across the country this weekend. Interest and demand should still be good enough for it to get into the top 10 without around $3 million or so. We’ll have to see how the Super Bowl affects anything on Sunday, especially the L.A. Rams playing the New England Patriots, affecting two important movie markets.

1. Glass   (Universal) - $9.5 million -50%

2. The Upside (STX) – $8 million-33%

3. Miss Bala (Sony) - $7.5 million N/A

4. The Kid Who Would Be King  (20thCentury Fox) - $4.4 million -38%

5. Aquaman (Warner Bros.)  - $4.2 million -43%

6. Spider-Man: Into the Spider-verse  (Sony) - $4.0 million -35% (up .2 million)

7. Green Book  (Universal) - $3.8 million -31% (up .3 million)

8. A Dog’s Way Home (Sony) – $3.2 million -37% (up .3 million

9. They Shall Not Grow Old (Warner Bros.) - $2.9 million N/A

10. Escape Room (Sony) - $2.3 million -45%

LIMITED RELEASES

Apparently, Peter Jackson’s THEY SHALL NOT GROW OLD (Warner Bros.) will be opening for a limited release into about 500 theaters this weekend after three successful “one-day only” screenings of his 3D colorized WWI footage, grossing more than $8 million. If you haven’t had a chance to check it out yet, I highly recommend it, and who knows? Maybe it will place somewhere in the top 15 for the weekend. You can read more about this fascinating doc in my earlier column.

Just a week after the debut of his Netflix film Polar, Mads Mikkelson returns in the very different survival thriller ARCTIC (Bleecker Street), written and directed by Joe Penna. In this one, he plays Overgard, the sole survivor of a plane crash in the arctic wasteland whose drive to survive is further motivated by a young woman he ends up dragging across the tundra in hopes of saving her. I generally love survival movies like this one and the likes of Touching the Void, 127 Hours and the Kate Winslet-Idris Elba survival movie The Mountain Between Us. This one is particularly special, because Mikkelson is such an amazing actor, and he’s really able to carry this story, often with almost zero dialogue. Penna also shows quite a bit of skill as a first-time director, filming in less-than-desirable conditions to really raise the stakes on what Overgard needs to overcome to survive. I recommend this tense survival film highly if you live in one of the select cities where it will be playing on Friday.

Although his upcoming horror remake Grudge has been shifted back to Jan. 2020, Nicholas (The Eyes of My Mother) Pesce’s second feature PIERCING (Universal Pictures Content Group), based on Ryû Murakami’s novel, stars Christopher Abbott as a man with a disturbing past who hires an equally disturbed escort, played by Mia Wasikowska, for an S&M session that turns into a grisly and deadly game. It’s an extremely disturbing but brilliantly stylish film that throws back to Dario Argento and De Palma – it even uses one of Goblin’s tracks from Argento’s Tenebre – but also pays homage to American Psycho and Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer. It will open in select theaters, On Demand and Digital HD this Friday

Opening Wednesday at New York’s Film Forum is Nuri Bilge Ceylan’s The Wild Pear Tree  (Cinema Guild), the new film from the Turkish director of Once Upon a Time in Anatolia, a family drama about a dysfunctional father-son relationship who are pitted against one another. Turkey’s official submission for the Oscars will open exclusively at New York’s Film Forum on Wednesday.

Rooney frontman Robert Schwartzman returns behind the camera with his second feature as a director,  The Unicorn (The Orchard), starring Lauren Lapkus (Orange is the New Black) and Nick Rutherford play an engaged couple visiting Palm Springs to celebrate her parents’ 25thwedding vow renewal, when they discover the magic of “threesomes” which they set out to discover for themselves. Having premiered at SXSW last year, it will open in select cities including New York’s Cinema Village, L.A.’s Laemmle Noho and more.

Fresh off its premiere at the 1stever Iranian Film Festival New York, Iranian filmmaker Mani Haghighi’s Pig (Khook) (IFC Center) has its U.S. theatrical premiere with its story of blacklisted director named Hasan, who hasn’t been allowed to make a film in years (something fairly common in Iran, apparently), so his favorite actress is moving on, his wife has fallen out of love with him and their daughter is moving out. Oh, and also (and I’m putting this in verbatim) “Hasan is upset that he is being inexplicably ignored by the serial killer who has been decapitating the country’s best filmmakers.”  Oh, Iran.. you so crazy! It opens at the IFC Center on Friday and in L.A. at the Lammle’s Music Hall and Town Center on Feb. 15.

From Bollywood comes Shelly Chopra Dhar’s Ek Ladki Ko Dekha Toh Aisa Laga (FIP), translated as “How I Felt When I Saw That Girl,” starring Sonam Kapoor (Sanju, Neerja) as Sweety, who has to deal with a family a little too excited about marrying her off, although she’s in love with a young writer, hoping her family will accept him. It will open in select cities in roughly 175 theaters, and I’m excited to say that I plan on seeing this Friday.

In that same vein, Rising Star Entertainment Ltd. Releases The Gandhi Murder, directed by Karim Traidia and Pankaj Sehgal, a conspiracy theory period film based on true events leading up to the assassination of Mahatma Ghandi. The film actually has a bunch of Western talent including Stephen Lang from the Avatar movies and Vinnie Jones, and it opens on Thursday, presumably focusing more on its VOD.

Asa Butterfield, Maisie Williams from Game of Thrones and Nina Dobrev star in Peter Hutching’s rom-com THEN CAME YOU (Shout! Studios) with Williams playing Skye, a teen suffering from a terminal illness who befriends 19-year-old hypochondriac Calvin (Butterfield) who helps her with her eccentric bucket list, and she helps him make a play for Nina Dobrev’s Izzy. So kind of Me and Earl and the Dying Girl, only with Nina Dobrev instead of Earl. In theaters and On Demand Friday.

Opening in New York, L.A. as well as On Demand (this time for real!) is St. Bernard Syndicate (Uncork’d Entertainment), the new mockumentary from Klown director Mads Brügger – who also has a new documentary at Sundance this week! It’s about two entrepreneurs who try to find their fortune in the Chinese pet industry by creating a breeding center for Saint Bernard dogs that goes off course.

An intriguing on VOD this week is John Potash’s Drugs as Weapons Against Us (Gravitas Ventures), about the CIA’s Project MK-Ultra and how it was used to manipulate musicians and activists to promote drugs for social control. I haven’t seen it but if Potash can offer proof, this will be one not to miss.

There are also a couple Fathom Events on Thursday, the Anime A Silent Voice and the Graham Staines biopic The Least of These, and you’d probably learn just as much about these by clicking on the respective links.

STREAMING

Having just premiered at Sundance, Dan Gilroy’s reunion with his Nightcrawler star Jake Gyllenhaal for VELVET BUZZSAW premieres on Netflix Friday. Gilroys’ horror-thriller takes place in the contemporary art world of Los Angeles, exploring the idea that “artists invest their souls in their work and that, in an ideal world, that work should not be considered a mere commodity.” Sounds like pretty heady stuff, and though I won’t be able to see it until later today, Jake Gyllenhaal is in it, so I should enjoy it.  I’ll post some thoughts sometime Thursday. (Note: The movie also opens in New York at the Landmark at 57, and presumably in L.A., too, if you want to see it with an audience.) 

Mini-Review: The snooty and pretentious LA. art world is probably rife for humor, and it’s also rife for a horror movie in which some of those snooty and pretentious people within are killed off in gory and fantastical fashion. While the third movie from Dan Gilroy (Nightcrawler) tries its best to mix the two sides of the horror-comedy genre, it constantly runs into trouble trying to keep them together.

Velvet Buzzsaw reunites Gilroy with his Nightcrawler star Jake Gyllenhaal as L.A. art critic Morf Vandewalt, who can make or break a budding artist’s career with one of his reviews. His girlfriend Josephina (Zawe Ashton) works at one of L.A.’s ritziest galleries but she isn’t faring well with her boss Rhodora Haze (Rene Russo, also from Nightcrawler). One night, Josephina finds a dead neighbor and learns that his apartment is teeming with his undiscovered artwork, dark and gloomy and perfect for selling to the L.A. art cognoscenti.  Everyone wants to get their hands on the priceless “Dease” artwork, but as Morf finds out more about the artist’s dark past, the people in his circles start dying.

If you’ve seen a lot of horror movies, you’ll probably already recognize the horror sub-genre of an item haunted by a dead man that proceeds to kill those who come into contact with it. This is basically where Gilroy’s latest film is coming from, though the premise of art that can literally kill is just a bit on-the-nose for a movie that’s set-up as a comedy about the art world.

The way Gilroy introduces the cast of characters is almost Altman-ess, as it pokes fun at all the different types vying for the priciest artwork by the mystery painter.  Gyllenhaal’s Morf is particularly funny as he transitions from confidence to full-on neuroses, but no one gets more laughs than Natalia Dyer as a young assistant who keeps being passed around from one employer to another, and her reaction to each of their deaths gets funnier each time.

There are a few clever and gory kills and a few less-than-clever kills, but it always feels like it’s never going far enough to appease horror fans, even with a seeming nod to the Phantasm franchise. (Incidentally, the title of the film comes from Rene Russo’s former punk band, incidentally, something which isn’t particularly significant to anything.)

I’m sure it would be a lot more fun watching Velvet Buzzsaw with an audience than it would sitting at home watching it on Netflix by yourself, but you’re either going to be fully on board with what Gilroy and his cast are doing or you won’t. There probably won’t be much in-between.

While there are certainly some merits to Dan Gilroy’s first (and hopefully last) foray into horror, the humor often plays better than the horror elements, and they rarely feel like they’re meshed-together particularly well.

Rating: 6/10

The Taiwanese drama Dear Ex from co-directors Chih-Yen Hsu and Mag Hsu stars Ying-Xuan Hsieh as a woman named Sanlian, whose  late husband has cut their son out of their will in favorite a man named Jay, played by Roy Chiu, which gets more interesting when her son moves in with Jay.

REPERTORY

METROGRAPH (NYC):

Late Nites at Metrograph continues with Diao Yi’Nan’s Black Coal, Thin Ice (2014), an excellent Chinese crime-thriller that I can’t recommend enough, having seen it a number of times since it premiered at the Tribeca Film Festival. This weekend’s Playtime: Family Matinees is Jean Cocteau’s 1946 classic Beauty and the Beast and then Produced by David O. Selznick continues with screenings of Hitchcock’s Spellbound (1945) on Saturday and Sunday and then continuing into February.

THE NEW BEVERLY (L.A.):

Weds. and Thurs’ double features are Edward J. Lasko’s Smash Up Alley: 43 The Richard Petty Story  (1972) with Jeff Bridges’ The Last American Hero  (1973); Friday and Saturday are double features of Steven Spielberg’s Jaws  (1975) with The Deep (1977) and the weekend’s 2pm Matinee is Norman Tokar’s The Happiest Millionaire  (1967). Monday’s Matinee is F. Gary Gray’s 1996 drama Set It Off.

ALAMO DRAFTHOUSE BROOKLYN (NYC):

Janus Films’ new 4k Restorations of Jackie Chan’s Police Story and Police Story 2 will be running once a day for the next week at New York’s first Alamo Drafthouse.

FILM SOCIETY OF LINCOLN CENTER (NYC):

Continuing the Film Society’s tribute to filmmakers who recently brought their Oscar-nominated films to the New York Film Festival, there will be a four-day Yorgos Lanthimos retrospective, including his latest film The Favourite, as well as earlier Greek films Dogtooth, Kinetta, Alps and English language films The Lobster (also an Oscar nomimee) and The Killing of a Sacred Deer.

EGYPTIAN THEATRE (LA):

In conjunction with the world premiere of Shudder TV’s Horror Noire: A History of Black Horror, the Egyptian will have a FREE screening Blacula (1971) on Friday night, and a double feature of Tales from the Hood with Tales from the Crypt: Demon Night (both from 1995) on Saturday night.

AERO  (LA):

Brad Bird will be appearing in person on Friday to screen his first film The Iron Giant  (1999) as part of “Bird Watching: the Animation of Brad Bird,” which continues on Saturday, again with Bird in person, for a double feature of The Incredibles  (2004) and its 2018 sequel The Incredibles II.

QUAD CINEMA (NYC):

The Quad presents two new retrospective series to coincide with the new 4k release of Emmanuelle: Beyond Emmanuelle: Just Jaeckin, a retrospective of the director’s erotic films,and Erotic Journeys: The Many Faces of Em(m)anuelle, which shows the entire series of erotic classics that paved the way for Cinemax.

IFC CENTER (NYC)

Waverly Midnights: The Feds will show the late Jonathan Demme’s Oscar-winning The Silence of the Lambs  (1991) on Friday and Saturday night, Weekend Classics: Early Godard  will screen Contempt (1963), while Late Night Favorites goes with Stanley Kubrick’s horror classic The Shining (1980).  

LANDMARK THEATRES NUART  (LA):

The Nuart’s Friday night midnight selection is Dennis Hopper’s Easy Rider from 1969.

FILM FORUM (NYC):

The amazing four-week series Far Out in the 70s: A New Wave of Comedy, 1969 - 1979 continues this week with Paul Mazurksy’s 1969 comedy Bob and Carol and Ted and Alice on Wednesday, as well as the French comedies The Mad Adventures of Rabbi Jacob (1973) and The Tall Blond Man with One Black Shoe  (1972), plus John Waters’Female Trouble (1974). The Alan Arkin-directed Little Murders, starring Elliot Gould,screens on Thursday and Friday with Richard Pryor’s Car Wash on Thursday and Robert Altman’s  California Split (also starring Gould) on Friday. Saturday the series continues with three similarly-titled but very different films in the 1979 coming-of-age drama Breaking Away, Hal Ashby and Peter Sellers’ Being There (1979) and Milos Forman’s Taking Off (1971). Sunday you can watch a Woody Allen double feature of his Oscar-winning Annie Hall (1977) and Oscar-nominated Manhattan (1979), in which Allen co-stars with Meryl Streep and Mariel Hemingway.  On Monday is a double feature of Melvyn Van Peebles’ Watermelon Man (1970) with the 1973 film Five on the Black Hand Side, both starring Godfrey Cambridge. Tuesday is a screening of La Cage Aux Folles (1978) along with the Elaine May-adapted and Mike Nichols’ directed The Birdcage  (1996), starring Robin Williams and Nathan Lane, plus the Elaine May-written Warren Beatty remake of Heaven Can Wait (1978). This weekend’s Film Forum Jr. is the 1979 family film The Muppet Movie, screening Saturday and Sunday at 11AM.

MOMA (NYC):

Modern Matinees: Sir Sidney Poitiercontinues with the Sidney Poitier-directed Stir Crazy (1980), starring Gene Wilder and Richard Pryor, on Thursday, 1962’s Paris Blueson Thursday and Sneakers  (1992) on Friday.  MOMA is also kicking off Cinema of Trauma: The Films of Lee Chang-dong on Friday, looking at the previous films of the Korean director of Burning, including Green Fish  (1997), Poetry  (2010) and Oasis  (2002).

MUSEUM OF THE MOVING IMAGE (NYC):

This weekend’s Family Matinee and Sensory Friendly Screening is the foreign animated film Zarafa  (2012), plus the museum is running its 2019 Cinema Tropical Festival, which includes films from Latin and South America from the past few years.

That’s it for this weekend, and things are currently in development for a few changes next week, so standby!