#but it's not like catastrophically bad if there's another season they could get back together

[quillyfied]

Happy Halloween and Happy Ghostfuckers, time to dig into the chest cavity of this episode and not come back out until the next! Another banger of an episode; someone in the Helluva Boss tag called it the Truth Seekers of season 2, and I am so inclined to agree, actually. Equal parts reaction and analysis, and 100% spoilers, like, did that even need to be said?

First: MILLIE MY BELOVED. After a season and a half (over five whole years) of some pretty lukewarm development and attention, having this episode start off with Millie being her happy cheerful self is already such a breath of fresh air, especially given the relentless nonstop personal drama Blitzo and Stolas have been part of for the last couple of episodes. It’s great that this episode is starting after a brief time skip, too; feels more natural for an audience that has had three months to process it all. Watching Millie step right into emotional support is amazing, too, for reasons that have been hinted at before; Happy Campers was so good for her and Moxxie’s characters and I’m prepared to fight about it. Having one of the few women in the cast be relegated to “emotional backbone” doesn’t feel as bad when she’s already expressed insecurity about her importance in life, shown that being an unbelievable badass doesn’t always give her the kind of attention she wants, and isn’t afraid to knock the people in her life down a peg when they aren’t supporting her back. Yes that was just from Happy Campers, and this episode reinforces that with further excellent context. But sshh. We’ll get to that later. Time to watch Loona and Moxxie breaking down because they’re sick of Blitzo’s shit but not to the point of leaving him yet (because they love him too shsshhhshshsh).

Interesting that after a few weeks of moping, NOW is when Blitzo is starting to ramp up his destructive behaviors; what tiny glimpses we were allowed to get in the mission shorts showed a Blitzo that was coping but seemed to be holding it together (you’ll pry the idea that Blitzo’s inability to work the crystal in Mission: Antarctica is directly related to his confidence, not his skill, out of my cold dead rotten hands). This sudden left turn into emptying IMP’s bank accounts and forcing Moxxie and Loona to act out his grief with him appears…new. Maybe lying around eating ice cream and cheese (bro) like a sad sack while watching human television isn’t a new behavior, but the Blitzo-level catastrophic destruction masquerading as retail therapy reads to me as a sudden snap, maybe due to the proximity of a certain lunar cycle. It’s certainly looking on par with running three rings to Wrath and maxing out someone else’s credit cards on shitty horse riding lessons (something that, based on the vague timeline I’ve been able to wrangle out of this godforsaken show, Millie wouldn’t have been present for, though to be fair it’s not like Blitzo ever really has a measured emotional response to anything).

(Viv, if you’re listening, consider this a brief cosmic request for Secretary Stolas to help poor Moxxie with this paperwork. Please. PLEASE. PLEEEEASE.)

I love too that Millie’s approach as default team Emotional Intelligence isn’t to meddle, either, because that also shows maturity on her part; letting the grown ass adults around her handle their shit while still being sweet to them is such a good and necessary component of the IMP team. Hang on having another Millie Feelings Moment while trying to have some sort of chronology here.

…it’s entirely purposeful that Bethany Ghostfucker has Charlie’s hair, right? Because they share a voice actress? Which means…Blitzo has now cosplayed some reference of Charlie…THE STREAMS THEY ARE CROSSING.

I also love how nOTHING could have prepared me for realizing that Blitzo’s outfit in this episode is a cosplay. Of a HUMAN. WHO FUCKS GHOSTS. I don’t know why I am so surprised at how literal the title is; this show continues to both sicken and delight me XD (raunchy humor isn’t my thing and Blitzo was definitely pushing it for me this episode, but also…it’s so nicely balanced with the real emotional breakdowns that I can’t even be mad about it)

Anyway, back to Millie and her Emotional Genius: very glad that she realizes what Blitzo is going through requires a little more babying than usual, and VERY glad that she and Blitzo already have an established system for when he needs to be babied and she doesn’t initially cave to it (I will be buying that magnet, thanks Spindlehorse). I also love how Millie encourages Loona to step up and help Moxxie (who also desperately needs some help, but Millie really can’t focus on him right now because she needs to focus on the root of the problem, which is Blitzo), essentially through begging but also just by being her usual kind self. And that quiet little moment of Millie using Loona’s name for maybe the first time ever is just…mwah. Chef’s kiss. No notes.

Sidetracking again to wonder why the subject of ghosts is just now coming up when Blitzo literally has an alert light labeled “Ghost.” Like. I feel like Blitzo believing in ghosts while Millie staunchly does not is such a good dynamic to play with, but also why is this the first that it’s being addressed. XD Okay, I get it, throwaway gag from the first episode that is becoming relevant now and maybe didn’t have that much thought put into it when it was first made, but I can dream. Or pick relentlessly at tiny details while completely missing the bigger picture. It’s fine. I’m fine.

What I’m not fine with is how Blitzo can completely trash the van in nearly the same way two episodes in a row (assuming that IMP going on the run is happening in Mastermind, which is far from a given, but phwoar would it be maximum emotional impact, to have an episode showing IMP finally moving into their shitty office and how much it means to them, only to have it ripped out from under them the next episode LOLOLOLOL). I’m mostly irritable that my prediction was untrue :P Although I am glad that the prediction that this hotel guy was Leviathan was disproven, because let’s be honest, that would make no sense. Some rando infestor demon, though? Totally on point. Also makes sense why he “falls” for Blitzo’s bullshit disguise; he knows they’re imps because he’s also a demon. Something new to play with. Though it’s interesting that even when Rolando goes rooting through Blitzo’s head, he still doesn’t seem to know either of their real names. Informational blind spot? Would make sense, with how the fight goes down, but later. Later.

Side note to wheeze with relief because when I first watched this episode, it was without subtitles, and I thought Igor was wheezing Blitzo’s name. Him saying “bitch” makes more sense actually. That’s fine. It was much creepier thinking he was saying Blitzo’s name actually XD

Listen. Listen. We know that Blitzo sort of self-medicates with sex and sexual humor. We know that he’s loaded his confidence eggs into the competent at sex basket, because his competence at emotions has a body count (literal). Much like how it was painful to watch Blitzo operating at maximum asshole behavior at the beginning of Apology Tour what with his relentless insistence at returning his relationship with Stolas to safter, sexier ground…watching Blitzo try to distract himself with a sexually charged silly new hobby is equally painful. Because for him, sex is surface level, because anything deeper is dangerous (lord above please ignore the innuendo IGNORE IT). If sex happens to come with emotional attachment, he ruthlessly severs it. But Blitzo being horny isn’t the problem, it’s his disregard for the people that get caught up in his horniness (and he certainly knows how to weaponize his raunchy humor and sexual charisma when it suits him). The Scooby Doo antics are hysterical, but watching Millie start to buckle under the strain of indulging Blitzo is as fascinating as it is inevitable. We already know Millie doesn’t have infinite patience even for Moxxie. So to watch her reach her limit with Blitzo when she might be the only person in IMP whom we have never seen snap at him…delicious. Absolutely the best. And GOOD ON HER for snapping at him for cutting her off, which is a thing he does all the time with everyone ever but rarely gets called on (because he’s waltzed off at that point usually).

And, as I dearly hoped, it’s Millie that starts to really get through to Blitzo, not by being gentle, exactly, but by being her refreshing blunt-not-bludgeoning self. She gives Blitzo the reaming he deserves, but doesn’t belittle him about it; she just points out that his behavior is harmful, draws a boundary, and leaves. Exactly what Blitzo needs…though his brain is certainly going to fuck with him about it first, because lol rejection-sensitive dysphoria being exacerbated by fucked up haunted trauma illusions is a BITCH.

When the gif for this episode dropped and it was Blitzo sliding down a ventilation shaft, I never saw a single other person remark on the dark liquid in the corner of the gif sliding down the shaft after him. I didn’t say anything about it either, just noted it and freaked out quietly every time the gif passed me by. NOW KNOWING THE CONTEXT OF THE DARK SLIDING LIQUID MAKES IT WORSE. I already suspected it was blood (Hellborn blood to be exact). I did not suspect that it would be THAT MUCH BLOOD. Though it’s interesting that Blitzo doesn’t recognize it as such, never calls it that, never seems to realize it. So. Maybe it isn’t blood (spoiler: it’s not blood, I am just dumb and didn’t realize what it is until a third viewing, good job me), but it sure as hell resembles Hellborn blood enough that I have the heebie jeebs. And the visuals are just SO CREEPY—Blitzo is practically drowning in it as he’s dumped into a waking nightmare, and like. Blitzo is an assassin by trade now, and we know IMP did a lot of in-Hell contracts before switching to corner the Sinner market, so there would ostensibly be a lot of Hellborn blood on his hands, but he doesn’t care about that. A job’s a job. The blood he feels guilty about…well…we know, okay, I won’t insult y’all’s intelligence by rehashing it, because it’s about to be made real damn obvious anyway.

THE HAUNTED MILLIES BEING ALL THE TIMES SHE COULD HAVE DIED IN PREVIOUS JOBS THOUGH. Bless the people smart enough to pick that up and throw that spaghetti at the wall because folks it STICKS, it’s so obvious and SO GOOD. And SUCH a neat little insight into Blitzo’s head, too: he cares SO MUCH about his employees, his family, and it does actually haunt him, how many close calls they’ve had. It does occur to him that his actions affect others. It’s just never bothered him, certainly not to this degree. I fully blame Apology Tour and Verosika for getting him started on considering how his actions have consequences for other people, how he “hurts other people’s fee-fees” but also routinely leads his team into dangerous situations where his mistakes could cost them all. And these phantom (lol f-word) versions of Millie not only driving this home through the visuals, but saying the quiet part out loud, asking Blitzo if he realizes this about himself? If he’s ever loved someone without hurting them? FUCK.

I said so many times I wanted Blitzo broken in half; I have FEASTED, friends, because Blitzo’s issues are bigger than Stolas and if he doesn’t address them, he won’t ever be happy with himself, let alone with anyone else, romantic or platonic. ALSO, feast upon the intersecting themes between Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel, because “you think you can change?” immediately put me in mind of “addict trash like you doesn’t change,” which…I believe whole-heartedly is something that Val said to Angel, maybe even said in that moment, but the framing of it and Angel’s character arc made it so clear to me that Val’s words had become Angel’s own. Except Angel started proving him wrong. He started struggling, however small and desperately and weakly, to change who he was, to become someone he actually liked instead of what everyone else wanted and liked. Blitzo is in the same boat. Because both of these shows are so much about how hard it can be to become a better version of yourself, especially in a world that’s set against you being that person, that will hurt you for daring to be better, to be different, to be YOURSELF. What Blitzo is going through right now is the emotional beat-down that every person who has ever wanted to self-improve despite (or maybe even because of) trauma or mental illness puts themself through. If you’ve ever been this mean to yourself and driven yourself to a sobbing panic attack, clap your hands (clap clap).

And then the low blow. The tearjerker. The cry-maker.

Teenage Blitzo running to his mother. Calling out for Mama. Telling her about the scary dream he was having. AND SHE COMFORTS HIM. She never turns on him, she’s never angry, she never even flinches as she’s burning alive in front of him. Ghosts aren’t real (sad) and we aren’t ever going to meet Tilla except through other people’s eyes, most likely Blitzo’s, but that double-edged knife of knowing that Blitzo both was so loved and loved so hard back, only to be the one who got her killed…we’ve known as an audience for a while now that this is the biggest burden on Blitzo’s soul, the one thing he may never forgive himself for and can’t conceive of anyone else forgiving, because it’s what’s Fundamentally Wrong with him: he makes everyone’s lives worse. How can he love when he is so completely destruction incarnate? How can he reach out to Moxxie, to Millie, to Loona, to Stolas, to Fizz, when the person dearest to him crumbled to ash in his hands and it’s his own fault?

How can Millie look at him and tell him he’s wrong, that he made her life better?

Fuck hang on cry break FUCK I forgot to remove my eye makeup before doing this lolololol

Okay. Pivoting to scrutinizing this flashback, because the first thing that is immediately apparent to me (besides how hot Millie and Blitzo are DAMN) is how much older and more tired Millie looks. Millie in particular. We’ve become accustomed to Millie looking a certain way, so the new look is certainly exciting, but it’s the expression that’s really the kicker here. She looks hardened and badass, but so, so tired. She’s tired of just being the muscle. She’s tired of scraping by for a buck, and fewer of them than she deserves. My theory that Wrath is saturated with imps of a similar skill set is correct; my theory that Helluva Boss isn’t going to address the class/race issues they’re drawing on in any meaningful way might yet be disproven. Because Millie doesn’t have horrific family trauma. What she has is what every imp has: systemic oppression and its accompanying insecurities. We got hints of this back in Happy Campers, when she was so thrilled to be the center of attention and important and liked, and NOT for how well she kills people. Now it has further context, and is why Millie being the Emotional Support of the team is so important to her as a character: she never thought she could be anything else. She never let herself believe she could be anything but someone’s underpaid goon that was going to die an early death and be as meaningless as everyone told her she was. Until Blitzo and IMP carved out a space for themselves and moved to THE TOP RING IN HELL. The one where Lucifer lives, the one where the Goetia seem to congregate, the one ring that, despite being a flaming hellhole (lol) that is full of weird dead humans and is constantly being beset by angels at least once a year, is considered the one place imps can’t make their mark. Gosh this episode is so important for making so much of that thinly-veiled subtext all throughout Helluva Boss into text, for underlining Striker’s compliment to Blitzo for making a name for himself by owning his own business, for saying EXPLICTLY AND OUT LOUD that imps aren’t even good enough for the shittiest, most moth-eaten office in Pride.

I’m still not holding my breath on Helluva Boss actually solving anything socially within itself, because that seems like a tall order. But it is no longer too much to ask for Stolas to grapple with some pretty heavy questions about his behavior and his preconceived notions, his internal biases and the ways he has hurt Blitzo in return. SECRETARY STOLAS PLEEEEEASE, I AM BEGGING.

Anyway. Time to drool over the fight choreography, first of this fight between Millie and Blitzo, because it’s GORGEOUS. They have what I was hoping so hard for them to have: fighting as a love language XD Blitzo and Millie understand each other on a pretty instinctual, almost primal level; their fight is a dance, not just because they’re both good at it. It’s an extension of their friendship, or what will become their friendship. Their bodies are their most basic communication tool, Millie often through touch and snuggles, and Blitzo through either fighting or fucking, depending on what’s needed. They both have killer instinct, which Moxxie’s anxiety often chokes out within himself and which Loona hasn’t really had the chance to hone.

I also love that moment before Blitzo tips the pool table, the whole “reputation is everything” “Oh yeah? So what’s your reputation?” Because. BECAUSE!! Millie is an exceptional assassin, but in this fight in particular, she is so different from how she is in the rest of the show. She’s a proper Wrathian imp assassin, angry and hard and relentless. Compare that to the beginning of Ozzie’s, when she scuttles into frame holding an axe in her teeth and screeches about how she’s still so jazzed up, clearly amped and so much more joyful than she is during this flashback. Again, said it at least twice, will say it once more: she looks so exhausted, like she’s burning herself out just to make it. And she isn’t a unique case in that regard by any means. It’s working for Blitzo that makes her unique, that gives her joy in her work instead of making her rely on how other people see her. Sinners already don’t care about her or her feelings; her next meal isn’t contingent on appearing as hardened and badass as possible, it’s on a Sinner having a grudge, which is an exclusive meal ticket that only Blitzo could have weaseled them into.

I also want to point out that this fight between Blitzo and Millie? Pretty well mirrored by the fight between Millie and Rolando!Blitzo. The way Millie blocks him with her forearm, the way she slams him into the wall—those are things Blitzo did to her, back during their first fight. Granted, Millie getting the coolest anime punch-stop of all time is something that’s all hers, because Millie is so special and had no idea until she found a new life. She is the happiest imp there ever was and she kicks no less ass for it.

(WHERE IS MY TIMELINE, IMP WAS AROUND FOR A YEAR BEFORE THEY GOT THE BOOK AND THE OFFICE. Unsure of how long after meeting Loona and Moxxie this meeting with Millie takes place, and this does scramble around the timeline of how long Blitzo had the book before Stolas calls to make the arrangement, and where does Moxxie and Millie’s marriage fit into this? They’ve only been married a year, so probably started dating pretty soon after meeting…still have no idea on when Stolas and Blitzo’s first time happened and how long after that was Loo Loo Land. I will tie myself into knots over this, must stop now.)

Anyway. Putting the fights to bed for the moment, gotta get in on those good good BFF snuggles, which will go immediately into Blitzo’s Trauma: The Movie. After Rolando does the honor of driving home the point that yeah, imps have it real fuckin’ bad in Hell canonically and textually and said out loud and everything, thanks for asking.

…oh. Right. Rolando dissolves into black goo. Blitzo wasn’t crawling through a tunnel of blood. It was a tunnel of Rolando. That’s somehow worse. Ah well. My point about Blitzo’s regrets and visually looking like he’s wading through Hellborn blood stands.

Small detail that’s standing out to me in this episode: how much Blitzo is holding his chest during the Rolando fight. Wondering if he’s cupping the pendant he almost lost, or if he’s injured in the chest pretty badly. Which is SO IRONIC if true, because. Y’know. Feelings. His are hurting.

Gosh this fight with Rolando is so scary, though. We’ve never seen infestor demons before (unless you count the Glam sisters, but they weren’t in their element, so to speak), and the power differential between Rolando and Blitzo and Millie is pretty stark. Different from the fight between Striker and Millie and Moxxie, Striker overwhelms with skill. Rolando is overwhelming with power. Don’t you just hate it when higher-class demons have special powers that reinforce the hierarchy? Bullshit. Anyway. THE FIGHT TAKING PLACE NEAR THE POOL IS SO GOOD. Because why wouldn’t an Envy demon have the water advantage? They’re literally fish people. And it’s TENSE OKAY.

BUT NOT AS TENSE AS BLITZO’S TRAUMA: THE MOVIE IS ABOUT TO BE.

I find it particularly significant that Rolando licks up the scarred side of Blitzo’s neck and then says a few minutes later that Blitzo’s level of insecurity is “intoxicating.” Yeah I imagine he’s super tasty to demons who feed on that kind of thing. See previous horrific trauma hallucination. Which I now have reason to believe wasn’t based entirely in reality; we already know all the Millies didn’t die that way, and now a snapshot of Blitzo finding the pendant in the wreckage. He didn’t watch his mom burn to death, not the way he was forced to watch in this episode. Goddamn. Rolando is an asshole, huh?

The Cash backslap really took me aback, actually, not just because Blitzo flinches away from it. The stills show that Cash does it while holding Blitzo’s still-burned wrist in his other hand, so this is really soon after the fire; one has to wonder if Cash did it because Blitzo caused his mother’s death, or if it’s just for the circus. Hard to get a read on Cash, no idea what his attitude towards Tilla is besides a gleeful willingness to use her to manipulate his son. I suppose I’m also shocked because I never really doubted that Cash probably hit Blitzo at least a little, but…a backhand, to me, reads of casual violence, something that’s done without much thinking about it. The way Stella reared back to backhand Stolas and we know by her shocked expression that he’s never caught her wrist to avoid the impact before. Terrible comparison, by the way, and by terrible I mean great but causing me emotional distress. I hadn’t suspected that Cash was likely just as physically abusive as he was emotionally abusive towards Blitzo. Nice to have the confirmation. I hate it here.

Okay, because I haven’t seen the screenshots anywhere yet: first scene of Millie and Moxxie is from Murder Family when Moxxie unties them. Second…I don’t know, actually, and I’m embarrassed to admit that. Maybe Truth Seekers? I could make the argument for Exes and Oohs if Moxxie was in a wedding dress, but I’m not sure. Any of the many times Blitzo has intruded on their time together, I suppose. And, fun fact: the shots that are playing in Blitzo’s eyes when Rolando forces Blitzo’s eyes open are the ones of Fizz and Verosika in Ozzie’s again. In case that was information you wanted. It’s also upsetting that Loona in LA is part of the reel of Blitzo Thinking Everyone Hates Him, because the fight in Spring Broken at least makes sense to flashback to. Though I do keep forgetting, constantly and with an insistence that infuriates me, that Loona and Blitzo were also having a fight during Seeing Stars and when she kicks him off of her at the end, it’s while Blitzo is apologizing for threatening to replace her.

I find it very interesting that there’s a split-second of Barb that cuts in when the Stolas part of the reel plays; it’s so fast, but right after Blitzo pulls away from Stolas’ hand in Ozzie’s, there’s a second shot of Barb as she’s yelling at him in Happy Campers. Significance? Probably that their separation hurts him just as much as his current one with Stolas, he’s just had more time to try and get used to it. Or represses it more.

Oh hey. Blitzo in his head is back in uniform, crystal and all. Nice. I didn’t even realize it. (…Crystal and all. Like it’s become part of his self-image already. HMMM.)

So interesting that Rolando chooses the most obvious pressure points to try and get to Millie…without realizing that coming out of Blitzo’s mouth, it completely robs them of power BECAUSE of their heart to heart. Millie already knows in her core that Blitzo rejects that image of her, because it’s an image of himself that he also rejects and he refuses to let her wallow in it. Their friendship is built on, well, building each other up in that way. Why in fuck would Millie listen to this asshole wax on and on about how she’s a lowborn inbred hick (what the fuck dude) when he’s currently possessing the guy who helped her break that image of herself? Like. Come on, asshole, use your brain, not your bigotry. But I guess that’s also the point of this episode, showing with explicit clarity that IMP is special because of all the anti-imp sentiment they’ve had to wade through and dismantle within themselves, so why would a supposedly “superior” demon think he had to hit any harder or more precise than that? Also. Though. The careless way Rolando is just throwing around Blitzo’s body is pretty sickening.

Special moment of silence for how Millie knows that Blitzo can take a beating that few others can and uses that to expel Rolando. I’m not crying. It’s fine.

“You’re dead, Bethany!” This is. Such a weird thing to say. Especially when you just went on a pleasure cruise through this guy’s deepest darkest fears. You can pull out what haunts him in the night, but not his name?? Counterpoint: he didn’t CARE to pull out Blitzo’s name. Because he’s an imp.

The knocking Rolando into the pool thing was hysterical, though. Such an anticlimax. Right before the electrocution and the eye-popping and all. Lol.

“FUCK hotels!” Says the man who was casually cosplaying an aspect of the princess of Hell who runs a hotel. I love these shows. I love the casual interplay between them. A crossover one day would be the best thing ever.

“I’ve never had a real friend that I didn’t want to fuck.” That is such a blisteringly honest thing for Blitzo to say that I don’t think he expected it to come out of his own mouth. And I love that Millie knows it has nothing to do with her and everything to do with Blitzo, and how Blitzo feels about Stolas. I just don’t think Blitzo realized he felt that way until he said it out loud.

And wrapping this all up with a nice bow with some Loona and Moxxie character growth, where she ACTUALLY takes care of him instead of leaving him to his own devices! Giving half a shit prevents arson, folks, love to see it.

This had the exact structure of Truth Seekers that got me hooked on this show in the first place: cutting the raunchy humor (which is hit or miss with me, usually don’t like it overmuch) with really deep, complex, and honest character moments. The way Blitzo mentors both Moxxie and Millie in different ways while still relying on them is just so satisfying. Even more satisfying is seeing Blitzo change from a one-note loud pervert into a complicated guy who has real feelings about other people and doesn’t actively want to hurt the people he cares about because he DOES CARE. He’s a fuckup, and he’s trying, and it’s so, so, SO good.

I’m sure I have forgotten to wax eloquent about something or other, but it’s almost four hours later and definitely almost five thousand words into this thing, so I’m gonna cut myself off here. Toodles! See you all in November for Mastermind, which is gonna be FINE I’m sure!!

[mask-of-anubis]

another joy x nina au <3

season 3 au

Summary: Joy attempts to gossip with her girlfriend about the love triangle she just discovered, but Nina, as always, is more interested in boring dusty books.

____________________________________________

“Nina!” Joy called.

She’d checked everywhere. Nina wasn’t at school, in her room, or anywhere apparently.

At last, Joy spotted her in the kitchen, hunched over the sink reading some giant, old book.

“Nina Martin,” Joy said again as she walked to the kitchen. When Nina didn’t look up, Joy walked up to her and pinched her waist.

“Ah! What?” Nina asked, startled. From the look in her eyes, Joy could tell she truly hadn’t heard her at all.

“I’ve been looking for you since classes ended,” Joy said.

“Why didn’t you just text me?”

Joy raised her eyebrows. She grabbed Nina’s phone out of her back pocket and tapped the screen. She had 10 texts from Joy.

Nina grimaced. Joy took it as an apology.

“What are you even reading?” Joy asked. She turned the book over and read, “A Complex History of Mummification and Theories on Waking the Dead?”

Joy stared. Nina was silent.

“Why the hell are you reading this?” Joy asked.

“Uh… leisure?” Nina said.

There was no time to dwell on it. Joy closed the book. “Whatever, I have to tell you something.”

Joy grabbed her hand and led her upstairs. When they got to Joy’s room, she looked over her shoulder for listeners then shut the door behind them.

“Okay, this is really big, so prepare yourself,” Joy said. She took a breath. “Jerome is cheating on Mara with Willow.”

It was mind-blowing, catastrophic news. At least it was for someone who wasn’t always “accidentally” waking the dead.

Nina frowned. “Is it bad that I didn’t know Mara and Jerome were still together?” she asked.

“Oh my god, you’re so oblivious,” Joy huffed.

She went to her closet and pulled the doors open so she could change.

Nina sat down on Willow’s bed, watching as pieces of her uniform got tossed to the floor from behind the closet door.

“So apparently, when Mara and Jerome got back together,” Joy said, peeking her head out so she could talk, “Jerome was secretly also getting romantic with Willow.”

Joy pulled on a jumper. “And now he’s dating both of them at the same time – how messed up is that?!” Joy said.

Finally, Nina got on the same page. “That son of a bitch…” she gasped.

Joy slammed her closet closed. “Yes, exactly!” she said.

“How did you find this out?” Nina asked.

“He’s stupid,” Joy said. She rolled her eyes. “I caught him doing a pros and cons list to weigh his options.”

Nina scoffed. “That little rat,” she said.

“I know!” Joy said. “And now, I have to figure out how to break it to them.”

Nina paused. “Wait, you haven’t told them? How have you not said anything?”

“It’s delicate!” Joy said. “You can’t just spring that on someone over text.”

“If it was Amber, I would tell her immediately,” Nina said.

“Thank you, oh righteous one,” Joy said. She crossed her arms “If you’re such a genius, how would you do it?”

“I dunno,” Nina said. “I’d probably be like, ‘Hey, guess what you guys have in common? You’re both Tauruses and you’re also both dating Jerome.’”

“Neither of them are Tauruses,” said Joy.

“Well then just the second thing,” Nina said.

“Why do I tell you gossip? I always regret telling you gossip,” Joy said. She was as bad as Patricia.

Nina stood up and crossed her arms, thinking.

“I just can’t believe neither of them have found out yet. Mara is as sharp as a whip, how has she not noticed her boyfriend is dating her roommate?” Nina asked.

“Because he’s a snake,” Joy said. “And he’s distracting them with all this attention and flowers and bullshit. Do you know what love bombing is?”

“I’m guessing it’s the opposite of whatever you do to me?” Nina said.

“It’s when you shower someone with so much love and affection that they can’t tell you’re manipulating them,” Joy said.

Nina considered this. “That’s so slimy,” she said. “You just manipulate me out in the open.”

“I know,” said Joy. “You’re welcome.”

“You’re telling them, right?” Nina said.

Joy sighed. “Yes,” she said. “I have to. I just don’t want to see their faces when I break the news.”

Nina grabbed her hand. “Look, don’t stress. It’ll be fine,” she said. Joy pouted. “They’re tough girls. And their worlds are far bigger than Jerome Clarke.”

Joy squeezed her hand. “I guess,” she said. “I just don’t want to hurt them.”

“You’re not hurting them,” Nina said. “You’re protecting them.”

“Ugh, why do I have to be such a good person?” Joy groaned.

“You’re cursed…” Nina said sarcastically. “Are you gonna do it now?”

“Willow has her last detention and Mara has a quiz bowl match,” Joy said, looking at her watch. Nina frowned; she didn’t know they had a quiz bowl team.

Joy sighed. “They won’t be back for at least another hour.”

“Right,” said Nina. She crossed her arms and rocked on her heels.

“So…” Joy looked around and noticed she had an empty room, a rare occurrence with two roommates.

“Wanna make out while we wait?” Nina asked, reading Joy’s mind.

“Mhm,” said Joy. She grabbed her hand and took her to her bed.

•••

An hour later, the room was quiet until the door slammed open.

“I’m free, I’m free, I’m freeeee!” Willow sang as she burst into the room.

She startled Joy and Nina, who had been kissing on Joy’s bed. They pulled apart so quickly that Nina bumped her chin into Joy’s nose.

Willow spun around in glee. Nina slapped Joy’s hand out from under her shirt. Joy folded it firmly in her lap.

Willow stopped spinning and caught her balance. “As of this hour, I am no longer a slave to Mr. Sweet and his evil little chores,” Willow said. She flopped down on her bed with a happy sigh.

“Congratulations, Wills,” Joy said. She shared a comical look with Nina.

“Nothing like being free from detention,” Nina said.

Willow rolled onto her stomach and seemed to see them for the first time. She examined them silently. Joy was used to Willow’s wide-eyed probing stare but Nina shrunk back a bit.

“Has anyone ever told said that you’re so cute together?” Willow said.

Nina and Joy looked at each other. “No, they mostly tell us we won’t last another month,” Nina said honestly.

“Or if you’re Jerome, that we should win the Most Batshit-Crazy Couple award in the yearbook,” said Joy.

“Rich coming from him,” Nina said under her breath. Joy elbowed her.

Willow smiled to herself. “I know it’s hard to believe, but Jerome can be sort of sweet actually. He has a sensitive side,” she said.

Nina gave Joy a look. Joy frowned.

“Well, um, I should go,” Nina said. She squeezed Joy’s hand and stood up. “See you at dinner?”

“Mhm,” Joy said, her eyes on Willow, who was smiling at her phone and twirling her hair.

As Nina left and went downstairs, she passed Mara on her way up. Mara smiled at her like normal, her face unsuspecting. Nina wished Joy good luck and braced for dinner.

For a moment, she was thankful she was dealing with a reawakened tomb raider instead.

[gabessquishytum]

i thought about tennis au and tossed that idea through the filth filter and went in a very different direction so. another take on a tennis au for you: star tennis player dream and coach hob. maybe hob was a major competitive player as an under-18 but got injured (fucked up knee!hob my beloved) and turned to coaching instead. and maybe dream is a bit older than him, approaching the end of his professional sports career, and appreciates hob's approach to injuries and respecting one's body. dream may look younger than he is, but he can't walk off a sprain the way he way he used to, and hob won't let him try.

but. for the filth side of this. hob is dream's coach during the training season, but during tournaments? he's dream's stress relief. if dream's anxious before a match, hob will hold his hips still and give him the longest, slowest blowjob of his life until he calms down. if dream wins they'll head back to dream's hotel room, order room service, and dream will sit hob on his cock and feed him sweets as a reward for doing such a good job as dream's coach.

but if he's frustrated after a loss, well... that's when things get interesting. hob makes a point of knowing exactly where the closest room with a lockable door is, because that's the only limit he insists on for dream's post-loss catharsis (he'll let dream fuck his throat in the locker room sometimes, though. if they have to go back to the hotel to get privacy and dream really needs to take the edge off)

because once they're alone? he's dream's to do with as he will, and dream takes full advantage of that. if dream's feeling generous he might start off opening hob up with his fingers. if not, he'll cut right to the chase and start working the lubed handle of his tennis racket into hob's hole.

after a particularly bad loss -- and after he's made hob come once already by grinding the handle into hob's prostate -- he starts working fingers into hob alongside the racket. he gets up to what hob thinks must have been three or four before he pulls them out and takes the racket with them, and then rummages in his bag for a minute. the next thing that presses at hob's hole is... pretty unmistakably a tennis ball. it's covered in lube but that doesn't change the fact that it's textured and rough and big, but dream tells him quite clearly that it's the ball that lost him the match, so he may as well get some enjoyment from it.

(it's not. it's a ball that dream had prepared days ago, had carefully cut holes in so he could thread a cord through it for safe removal later, because he adores hob and also does not want to have to bring him to a hospital to get a tennis ball out of his ass, thanks very much. but, well. hob doesn't need to know that just yet, now does he?)

-🐈‍⬛

Asdfhjl I'm having THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS ABOUT THIS OK partly because my favourite tennis player retired last year and im still mourning him. roger please come back, for my mental health.

Taking this in a similar-but-different direction. Maybe Hob was the junior number 1 and he was literally just about to start competing in the senior ranks and then boom, catastrophic knee injury. Dream was a few years younger and Hob was his inspiration so he's totally devastated that they're not going to have a big sexy senior rivalry :/// the solution? He hires Hob as his coach.

Hob has never coached anyone, doesn't have a clue what he's doing, doesn't know why Dream would hire him when he comes from money and could literally pay for anyone... but he's kind of out of a career so he says yes! And that's how they end up spending Dream’s entire professional career together.

Hob sits in the players box with chanel sunglasses and a iced coffee, looking like a damn supermodel while Dream sweats his way through the competition. Obviously on the inside Hob is literally shitting himself with nervousness but he only lets the emotion out when the match is over. Hob literally jumps down from the stands at one point when Dream wins the US Open (terrible for his knee, brilliant for the photographers).

As for the filth... Well, as an athlete, Dream has to be careful with his body. This means that Hob takes the brunt of the physical side of the relationship. If Dream has a good training session he gets to sit down all comfy on the bench in the locker room while Hob does his job and bounces up and down on his cock. If Dream doesn't have a good session, he gets to take his frustrations out by spanking Hob's pretty arse with his tennis racket. Dream’s physical and mental health is Hob’s top priority, and he can and will sprint to the bathroom during a break in play to give the world's quickest, sloppiest blowjob.

Dream just wishes that they would make more trophies with pointy ends. So many of them are shaped like plates! How's he supposed to use them as dildos! It's Hob’s reward to have his hole filled up after he's helped Dream win the tournament.

Maybe he'll just have to take two tennis balls instead.

[booasaur]

Verdict (2022) - 1x03

[rainymunson]

Eddie Munson Rec List

(work in progress)

none of these are mine! just sharing AMAZING collections and works i have found by incredible blogs on here :)

audio links (nsfw):

one

two

three

joe

four

headcanons:

cuddling

virgin!eddie

losing ur v

nsfw alphabet

vampire!eddie

dating

(another) nsfw abc’s

masterlists/rec lists

erosso

chaoticvigilantes

indouloureux

munsons-maiden

iwritefandomimagines

n0agranger

natti-ice

xcatnapsx

honeymunson (pt1)

one shots:

blood lust

you made me hate this city

bad idea - one last year. one last hurrah. hawkins high’s yearly senior camping trip is full of sentiment, and full of surprises. eddie definitely did not expect a night of confessions with his best friend, and definitely did not expect to end up naked with her.

don't tell steve - you’re steve’s younger sister and you’ve been secretly dating eddie. when eddie goes missing, you’re the only one who knows where he is.

Good Vibes - Eddie is your best friend and happens to accidentally come across your vibrator.

Purity ring - When Mrs. Thompson told me that I would have to tutor Eddie Munson, I never would have expected that I would be in his trailer on a Saturday night. Even if I don’t like to admit it, there is some tension between us. His constant flirty comments against my harsh responses have built up something between us. He is the one to make the first move.

girl with the tattoo - eddie pays for your first tattoo without knowing what it is you’re getting. when you finally show him, he practically flips his shit.

out of exile - jason fucking carver picked the wrong girl to go after in his search for chrissy’s killer, and eddie’s done running.

hawkins-losers request - How about some slow sweet, early mornin' loving for our Eddie boy? Or on the other side, dirty rough bathroom stall at a concert smut?

Save a Prayer ('til the morning after) - you and Eddie know you have to go back into the upside down to save Nancy, and so you spend one final night together before certain doom…

don't you dare - you and eddie have a private moment before going into the final battle against vecna

vampire!eddie: (i know. just, hear me out-)

bloodthirsty - He came to you only at night, your Eddie. Well you supposed he wasn’t quite your Eddie anymore. He was different, changed. 

series:

worlds apart - THEN. You’re the only survivor among the Mind Flayer’s victims, thanks to your friends - but after the Battle of Starcourt, you find yourself adrift in a sea of nightmares. Until an encounter in the woods with Eddie The Freak Munson offers an unexpected life line and turns your world upside down. NOW. Four months have passed since the winter night you walked out of Eddie’s trailer and his life for good. But when the mysterious headaches and nightmares return full-force and something wicked stirs in sleepy Hawkins, starting a witch hunt against Eddie, you realize that there are two things in this world that might be more persistent than you’d thought: Evil…and love. The story will be told in two timelines: the past (after the Battle of Starcourt) and the present (during the events of season 4).

promises, promises - Your boyfriend, Eddie Munson, accuses you of cheating on him due to your strange behavior. If only you could tell him you were hunting interdimensional monsters instead.

fix it fics:

i always will -  in the midst of catastrophe and sorrow, hidden feelings are revealed.

eddiesbug request - eddie doesn't die, but he just barely makes it, and visiting him in the hospital with his favorite music and foods and giving him soft cuddles and yeah

“If I get to live a million other lives, I hope I get to love you in all of them.” - A quickly, sloppily written angsty + fluffy fix-it fic I cranked out in one sitting because this is my therapy in a post st4 vol2 world. This was written quickly and quickly proofread by a very tired me, so definitely not my best work but something I just wanted to get out in the open for everyone! Enjoy.

family video - robin and steve were able to snag eddie munson a job at Family Video and it just so happens that the person of his dreams would be a regular customer.

wake up - You and Dustin gets Eddie out of the Upside Down. He is now in a coma 

fade into you - this is definitely just a fix it fic for vol 2 because i miss my baby ):

I thought we weren't supposed to be heroes - Eddie cuts the rope that connects the real world with the upside-down to buy more time and you and Dustin find a way to reach him anyway.

“Why the hell would you say something like that?” - instead of the shitty ending we got, he’s gonna live in this fic. you’re welcome&lt;3

Say you'll still be by my side - Eddie made it out of the Upside Down, barely alive. He’s in a coma now but you refuse to let him go.

Hawkins' Hero - Eddie risks his life trying to be a hero. What he doesn’t realize, is that, he’s always been your hero.

Liquid Smooth - eddie’s nightmares corrode his nights for the past two weeks. with guilt overwhelming his healing wounds, you let your boyfriend talk to you as a cathartic release.

It Can't Be - Nothing on earth will ever take Eddie Munson away from you, not even an army of bloodthirsty, flesh-eating demobats in the Upside Down.

[lordofthefarts]

You think it’s good writing for the traumatized abused child to be forced to move with her parents and leave her dreams behind because it’s “reality””???

sure, that’s one way to interpret the episode and what i said about it.

nothing takes away from the trauma and hurt that marcy faced both on earth and in amphibia. no one can deny that marcy was so hurt that she was willing to get herself and her friends trapped in another world for an indefinite amount of time when there was any risk that she’d lose them. sure, we could have a show about how this thirteen year-old marcy gets to spend eternity with her best friends and happy “forever.” but that’s not what this show is about. no, this show is about growth and change - anne’s whole narrative is about learning to do what’s right even when it’s hard, to be honest when lying would be so easy, and choosing to fight for what she really believes in. sasha’s arc is about choosing to change for the better - also being honest when it’s hard, but more importantly, putting your faith in the people you care about. wartwood’s whole motto was about being slow to accept and slow to change, and yet they rally together with newts and toads to fight together. marcy’s arc is all about learning to see what’s around her and accepting reality for what it is. 

change in the environment causes change in the person. being zapped to amphibia together was a major change and we see how much its changed our trio, especially the first time they reunite. they’d spent so much time apart, trying to survive in this new world, and in their reunion they try to go back to their “normal,” but their “normal” was never healthy and sustainable - it was deeply problematic and not really good for them. and change in and of itself isn’t inherently good or bad - we see that especially between anne and sasha. growth in the self comes from a recognition in a challenge to negative aspects to our character. anne’s initial character was challenged - she couldn’t live with the plantars the same way she’d been living her life up until then. this challenge in her character allowed for her to change, and she had the support of her whole frog family to become better, to find out who she was, and to grow into the anne we know now. season 1 is literally all about her growth, about how she keeps messing up but she learns how to fix things and take responsibility. that’s the whole point of “frog of the year.” 

sasha was enabled - she grew powerful and wicked strong - and she learned that her manipulation and controlling nature was a good thing. she didn’t grow for the better because this part of her character wasn’t challenged - in fact, the worst parts of her were encouraged. negative aspects of her character were first challenged in the s1 finale during her fight with anne, and she wears the scar of that memory, but instead of recognizing this as a flaw in who she is, she sees this as a flaw in her strength and preparation. if she was better, if she was stronger, then anne wouldn’t have fought back against her. she doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with who she is - “i like who i am,” she says during the family dinner. only after true colors do her negative traits really get challenged. after learning of her deceit, anne doesn’t trust her. andrias gets ahold of the box. she watches marcy get stabbed. they all get separated. this time, she realizes that it wasn’t her lack of strength or ability, but rather, her behavior that led to this catastrophe. anne telling her off and telling her that she’s a bad person really got her to recognize the negative parts of her character, and so finally, sasha chooses to change for the better - to grow - because she knows what needs to change.

marcy was also enabled - she was never asked to change. her silliness, her curiosity, her playfulness, her intelligence were parts of her that were encouraged and were taken advantage of by andrias. andrias encouraged her fantasy of adventure with her friends with his proposition. her toxic character flaw is the unwillingness to change and refusal to accept reality. marcy never faced the consequences of that until she was stabbed, put in a nightmare, and then possessed. she was so caught up in living this fantasy that she didn’t realize how it was hurting the people she cared about. in “all in” we see her fantasy - the core gives her everything she could ever want - and at first it works because the core erased the memories of the consequences of her actions. but she remembers, and yes, it upsets her, but she learns the price of her wanting to live in this fantasy and unwillingness to change. she took anne and sasha away from their lives and used them as her playthings - she didn’t consider their lives. we see the creepy versions of them in her fantasy world, like they’re just little puppets. and yeah, it’s understandable that she doesn’t want to move away from them, but just because she doesn’t want things to change doesn’t mean that they shouldn’t. 

“the thought of losing you was so…big,” marcy tells them after she wake up next to them, “i was afraid that if we weren’t together, we wouldn’t be friends anymore.”

“things change. we can’t stop it. but nothing - nor distance, nor time - can break the bond we share. because nothing can take away the memories of the time we shared together,” anne responds. 

and that’s the key. marcy’s able to return to consciousness because she learns to reject the fantasy that aldrich gave her. she finally accepts that change will happen - change already has happened, and staying the way she was has resulted in massive pain and destruction that she hadn’t intended. yeah, moving away sucks, especially with family that maybe didn’t treat her very well. but this all happened because she wanted to stay with her friends, because she was afraid that she’d lose them forever. but they’ve been apart for so long now, and they’re still with her, by her side. they’ve all changed, and life’s not going to stop throwing shit at them. they’re all going to keep changing, but they’re saying to each other that they’re going to be with each other through it all - somehow, someway. 

what would staying now do? they’ll have to go their separate ways physically eventually - that’s how life is. what would they do after high school? college? when they get jobs? as much as they love each other, it would stifle their growth to keep their life as stagnant as possible. if anything, having this space and making them realize what they really mean to each other would help their friendship. they can’t take each other for granted when they don’t see each other all the time anymore. they’ll get to show up for each other and reach out when they need the other - because it’s not just a matter of convenience. sure, for some, distance makes them grow apart - it be like that sometimes - but especially with the growth that our characters have done, i’d like to think that the distance would let them really appreciate each other.

[shxyo-sho]

Hello there,

I saw you were accepting request and wanted to send in an AOT ask (hope this is okay with you). Could I please have a headcanon for Eren, Armin, Levi, Hange and Reiner with a reader who is not particularly strong and feels like a burden to the rest of the survey corps? Thank you so much and have a nice day!

them reacting to reader feeling like a burden ♡

pairings: levi, hange, armin, eren, reiner x gn!reader

warnings: swearing, season two spoilers, kinda slandering 💀

genre: fluff, a lil angst

a/n: omg tysm for requesting this is my first aot post aaa! I’m also very sorry for how late this is, I was in a small writers block for a while :( as always have an amazing day and I hope you enjoy <3

|| aot m.list ||

Eren Yeager

When you tell him that you feel like a burden he is genuinely confused

Hes never really thought of you as weak

C’mon think about it!

You fight flesh eating titans on the weekly and are still alive

But he has to admit

He tends to feel like a burden to humanity as well

Being the reason for many deaths and catastrophes really takes a toll on him

(who woulda guessed 🧍🏼)

Especially when hes not strong enough to right his wrongs

He places a hand on your shoulder and looks into your eyes

“why don’t we get stronger together, hm?”

And he meant what he said

Trains with you during his free time and makes you spar with him

Even if your tired he forces you up, knowing it’ll benefit you in the long run

Is surprisingly very helpful and supportive

Armin Arlert

Hearing that you feel like a burden rips his heart into two :(

Your amazing in every way possible

And he intends to have it ingrained into your brain

Sits you down, rubbing soothing circles onto the back of your hand

And he starts spewing compliment after compliment

Gives you absolutely no time to react

Another one who tends to feel in the way at times

I mean he’s literally never killed a titan before

(In a world full of them smh 🤦�� )

Even so he’s smart enough to where it makes up for his lack of titan killing, you point out

Simply shakes his head no and starts aggressively loving you

“your just as smart and strong as anyone else, don’t let anyone tell you different”

period king

Prob the best one to come too this for, highly recommend

You walk outta that room feeling confident asf cause of that mans words

As you should

Levi Ackerman

Is partially confused and the other part completely understands

Makes sure you know your not a burden

Maybe not as sweetly as armin did but you get what you get

“don’t be stupid, your not a burden nor a bother to anyone”

Gets mad thinking someone put this idea into your head

He demands names immediately 😠

He’ll send that person with Isabel and Farlan

(LMFAO IM SORRY ILL STOP)

If your still feeling bad about yourself he’ll give you some live proof

Walks up to eren and them with you trailing silently behind him

“Do any of you think of them as a burden?”

Everyone shakes they’re head no and levi turns toward you with a smirk

“That’s what I thought”

Will train you if that’s what you want but won’t offer it first

Tries to sneak in a little affection here and there

Though he’s still pretty bad at comforting you🧍🏼

Hange Zoe

You feel like a what ? A burden ??

No, this simply won’t do, nopeee

Pulls you into a hug, asking why you might feel that way

They literally just get so clingy omg

Constant skin on skin contact

You will not be sad for much longer I can promise you that much

Similar to eren, they help you out with training and such

Is an amazing mentor, they know exactly how to explain everything

But if your more of a visual learner, they won’t mind showing off a bit

For learning purposes of course !

Every time you perfect something new, hange is on your ass

Hugs, and excited screams of ‘you did it’ or ‘I’m so proud of you’

Literally your entire motivation is that you want to get praised

(ooo kinky /j)

Also makes you feel very confident with all the compliments they’re throwing your way

(hange come tell me your proud of me RIGHT NOW)

Their methods are effective and hange makes you happy so it’s a win-win situation really 🤷🏼

Reiner Braun

Gets a little awkward upon hearing that you feel like a burden

He’s just not sure what to say or do

Because of this he kinda just follows you around, trying to comfort you

(It’s giving me, a dog on a leash 🤨)

He also feels pretty out of place most times

I mean he literally is

(I’m the armored titan and he’s- 😟)

Another praiser over here y’all

Though he kinda just tells you what he wants to hear

Assuming it’ll help, which it mostly does

“I’m so proud of you and your an amazing person”

Gives small hugs and forehead kisses to make up for his lack of comforting skills

You could never be a burden to him, no matter what

This he’s sure of

Now all he needs to do is make sure you know that as well

shxyo-sho © 2021 | all content and its rights belong to me. please do not modify or repost on any other websites.

[everseeking]

hello!! It's your relief story anon!!! i friken love what you wrote!!! may i have another request 🥺 similar to the relief story, Levi's s/o gets into a near death experience right in front of him and he freezes for the first time. everyone's super shocked abt it after the mission and he gets reprimanded just for formalities (erwin n hanji rlly just wanna check up on him personally) but they all understand since he's been through a lot. Levi can't deal with his emotions and he wants to say i love you to his s/o (first time saying it) but he doesn't know how and yes HAHAHAHA

- OMG HI AGAIN ! IM SO HAPPY THAT YOU ENJOYED IT THANK YOU SO MUCH !!!!! thank you again not only for requesting that, but also for requesting again, it’s so awesome when u guys come back and request more :) plus your ideas are always so great. i had a lot of fun writing this, i hope u enjoy <3 (and i got your second message tysm for adding it ! i tried to include as much fluff as possible but my dumb brain always defaults to angst hahaha)

how to say i love you

- levi ackerman x reader

warnings: season 2 and ova spoilers (if you haven’t watched the ova’s yet they’re on youtube but this only references ‘a choice with no regrets’ aka levi’s ova)

levi has never had...feelings for anyone before.

the romantic kind, of course. he's felt plenty of things towards people on a regular basis—anger. hate. disgust. confusion. annoyance. frustration.

to be fair he has had the occasional friend, or the occasional person who he respected, and others who he flat out wanted to protect. just never anything romantic.

this didn’t bother him, falling in love wasn’t his top priority or anything. his life has been one traumatic experience after the other. there was no time for him to be romantically involved with another, nor was he willing to take the risk of potential heartbreak that would add to his constantly growing list of traumatic events.

when he first met y/n l/n he acknowledged her as nothing more than another member of the survey corps. someone he would work with. someone he would train with. someone who he would give orders to if deemed necessary. someone who would join his team. someone he would slowly become more curious about. someone who would bring him feelings that he couldn't describe in words.

his plans had clearly gone astray.

y/n was supposed to be nothing more than a colleague, but somehow fate had much more in store. the young girl began to appear more and more in his life and before he could even process it, she was already apart of his team.

now that the they were spending almost everyday together, along with the rest of his team, levi had the opportunity to try to solve the mystery that was y/n.

there was something that he felt about her that he couldn't put into words. the way she was determined to save humanity and her friends, the way she poured everything she had into everything she did, the way she was strong in every aspect of the word, the way she got along with the rest of the team, the way she laughed, the way she smiled, the way she spoke, the way she moved, all of it. it all encapsulated him.

what is this emotion ? fascination ? curiosity ? these words weren’t completely right, but they safe enough for him to settle on for now.

yes, that's all. the brat just makes me curious because i don't understand her.

at least, that's what he told himself. but the tingles that remained on his skin from the place where she accidentally brushed up against him or the way his stomach felt after his eyes met hers or the way he noticed himself always wanting to be near her or the way he wanted to protect her more than anything in the world, said otherwise.

whatever message he wanted to send probably definitely was not passed on. when y/n accidentally brushed up against him he snapped back "watch it." when she made eye contact with him, it was more her meeting his eyes and him seemingly glaring back. when he took a few steps towards her to be closer, she felt paranoid, wondering if he was determining whether or not he should scold her for something. when she was on missions and he occasionally had to step in and save her tail, she felt like she was slacking.

truthfully in all these situations levi just resorted back to his true nature. he never meant any harm so clearly he wasn’t the best at expressing his feelings. henceforth, the three word phrase was foreign to him.

after all the many challenges that came with trying to understand each other, the couple finally got together. but despite being together, neither had said the 'L word’ yet. 

to be honest, y/n hadn’t dwelled on it too much. she had learned the best way to survive mentally was to live in the moment. when the time would come, the time would come, however, the thought that time wasn’t a guarantee gnawed at the back of her brain.  she always wondered how levi felt about the matter, but never got around to asking. little did he know he’d once again find out for himself that time wasn’t a guarantee.

just like every other day, y/n awoke to levi placing a kiss on her forehead. he wished nothing more than to let the love of his life sleep late into the morning in their shared bed, safe from the dangers of the world, but there was another mission today in which he needed her by his side.

the plan was to head to the outskirts of wall rose to a forest that was known to be surrounded by titans. hanji convinced erwin to let her try to capture titans in the forest again, as it all but worked on the female titan. erwin agreed, not only because he too believed the survey corps had all the materials necessary to capture titans again, but also because he knew the scouts needed more real time practice in the forest. levi wasn’t happy to hear the commander refer to this as “practice,” since so many lives were guaranteed to be lost in the process, but there was nothing he could do about it.

with everyone’s approval and the preparations complete, they were off. the ride there had been as close to smooth sailing as possible, with erwin successfully rerouting the troops to avoid as many unnecessary collisions with titans as possible and a surprisingly low amount of abnormals in their path. but everyone knew the real problems would be up ahead.

in this area, the titans were mainly surrounding the thick trees in the forest. it wasn’t too far from the forest where they encountered the female titan so the layout of the jungle was fairly similar. a large path ran straight through the trees, leaving the scouts lots of opportunities.

before the forest itself came into view, the hoard otherworldly creatures showed up. the crowd of titans didn’t seem to be too bad, with none surpassing ten meters. a bit of the outer edges of the formation took a hit, but everyone else made it into the woods unscathed.

unlike the last time levi’s squad was in the forest, their objective was not to be the bait. instead, they were to take to the trees and be on clean up duty. it was a little different from their normal clean up duty, as they weren’t doing chores around the castle or cabin—they were eliminating stray titans. the survey corps was only prepared to capture two titans, so any others that entered needed to be exterminated.

they weren’t the only ones with this job, but erwin placed them as the last hoop the titans had to get through before they were captured. any titans that escaped the first few groups were more likely than not going to be challenging, so they needed to be left with the most talented squad.

the eight scouts that made up levi’s squad traveled the path that cut through the forest until they found the four trees in which they were to set up camp. levi and jean were on the first tree, armin and sasha on the one across from them, connie and mikasa on the next, and y/n and eren on the fourth. the formation placed y/n and levi diagonal from each other so they could each defend half of the younger scouts in their squad if necessary, as well as had the team in pairs that weren’t often together for even more practice.

the ground rumbled beneath the group as they looked down to see the first wave of soldiers acting as bait pass through. after some time and a few more waves, including hanji and erwin who were in charge of the traps, everyone passed through and the titans came into sight.

the ground troops had all reported that no abnormals or titans above ten meters made it in so they all relaxed—or relaxed as one can be when they’re facing man-eating giants. levi recognized the last troop passing through and gave his second in command a nod which she returned, letting everyone else know it was show time.

the rumbling of the ground from the horses before was nothing compared to that of the titans. not counting the first two, there were nine titans in all. everyone gave a silent thanks to the squads who had narrowed down the hoard before it arrived to them.

finally, the first two titans ran past the trees levi’s squad was hidden in, chasing the ground troops. with a loud “now !” from levi, the rest of them deployed from their hiding places. thanks to the squad’s impeccable teamwork and countless hours of training in forests closer to home, the remaining seven titans were taken out without a hitch. y/n couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride as she watched her team improve with every mission and it was obvious they all felt the same way. the way they beamed and had to hold back their celebration was as a clear as day.

the team regrouped, with y/n checking the younger members for any life threatening wounds and levi double checking all the titans were taken care of. she had just finished examining sasha when levi came back and announced the next step of today’s plan. everyone was to head forward to meet the other troops and aid in getting the titans back to the walls. although the titans may be secured, there were still infinite possibilities for catastrophes that could happen so they needed all the backup they could get. the young cadets nodded in agreement then followed after levi as he took to the sky, with y/n tailing the rest of the group. if y/n and levi weren’t side by side during missions, this was always the formation everyone fell into. levi led the way, protecting the front of the party, and she acted as the caboose to make sure no one got left behind as well as to protect them from the back.

after a few failed tricks from eren as he tried to show off with his gear and a quick scolding from levi, the rest of the scouts came into view. the mission appeared to be a success. the final two titans were both apprehended, one nailed to the ground and the other bound in the air.

squad levi landed and began to greet everyone but didn’t get very far when hanji’s squeals flooded everyone’s ears.

the scientist was practically bouncing up and down as she came over. “squad levi ! all in one piece, i see. let me show you what we’ve done,” she gushed, ushering all of them towards the titans.

it was no surprise she was so excited. she had been waiting for this day to arrive for ages, but levi still gave a quick “tch,” under his breath out of annoyance which forced y/n to cover her mouth with her palm to stifle a laugh.

the eight, now nine, of them cranned their necks up to see the side of the beast that was hammered into the ground. the sight would’ve been cruel if it were anything other than a titan, but remembering all the pain they’ve brought to each one of them, no one did so much as bat an eye. returning the focus back to hanji, everyone watched as she took a sharp inhale to prepare for her long ramble about how everything worked. lucky for y/n, before hanji could exhale, levi grabbed his partner’s arm and pulled her away.

he pulled her close so he could whisper in her ear, “come on, let’s go find erwin.”

as much as she wanted to argue with him and tell him he was being mean, she really didn’t want to listen to hanji’s spiel that she had heard a million times over. a tiny pang of guilt struck y/n for leaving the other half of the squad behind forced to listen to her, but sometimes everyone has to take one for the team.

she threw a quick wave over her shoulder to the others, then followed levi, who was still holding her arm, as he dragged her through the crowd of other scouts who were just floating around, waiting for orders, until he finally spotted the commander.

the tall man’s eyes fell upon the pair and he drew himself away from whomever he was speaking with to come greet them.

“ah levi, y/n,” erwin began. levi’s expression stayed the same but y/n offered the man a small smile and wave which he returned with a nod. erwin was actually the one who recommended to levi that he should consider y/n to be apart of his squad, so she heavily credited him entirely with starting your relationship with levi (even if levi disagreed every time she told him this). 

levi and erwin fell into formal conversation, discussing the remainder of the mission, which left y/n realizing levi hadn’t really saved her from a talk you’ve heard countless times before, but instead brought her into another one. 

hanji’s rambling would have been more interesting than this she thought to yourself as she began lazily scanned the small sea of scouts scrambling around, looking for a way to entertain yourself until the two men were done talking. one group in particular caught her eyes.

the soldiers seemed to be much more jittery than everyone else. they frantically looked amongst each other and towards the titan that hanji had just finished showing the rest of levi’s squad, and seemed to be contemplating a solution to an unknown issue.

it was clear something was up. 

just as she placed her hand on levi’s shoulder to bring his and erwin’s focus over to the scene, the ground began to shake, which caught their attention for her. 

no one had time to react when dust flew up everywhere, obstructing everyone’s views so they couldn’t see where the loud crashes that followed came from. a strong force slammed into them, throwing them who knows how far into the air. the fear of hitting the ground barely had enough time to settle into y/n before everything went dark.

everyone in the vicinity had been sent flying into the air along, but levi was the first one to be up on his feet again. bringing his arms up to shield his eyes, he decided to stay where he was as the dust cleared so he could assess the situation and move on from there. 

the scene finally came into view; he gathered that the titan had ripped its arm through the nails that secured it to the floor of the woods, then flailed it around in an attempt to grab people. it made a clean sweep in the area that he was previously standing—all that was left were debris and broken wood planks from the compartments that were attached to the other titan’s traps.

a wave of adrenaline passed through his body as he remembered who was with him. he needed to find not only erwin immediately, but also y/n. he reached down to grab the handles of his controller grip but froze instantly upon seeing what had just come into view as more of the dust cleared.

y/n was sprawled out on the ground, ODM gear tossed a few feet away from her body but more importantly, the titan’s hand was hovering mere meters above her.

his pulse almost quickened twicehold, but it felt as though it heart had stopped in his chest. situations like this presented themselves to levi almost everyday of his life, but this was much different. in those, he was almost two steps ahead. he knew that by now he should be wrapping his arms around y/n and pulling her to safety at breakneck speed, or even better, he should’ve shielded her from harm at the very beginning. but right now he couldn’t do so much as move his finger.

levi was completely inert—his arms felt like they being weighed down by a ball and chain, his legs felt like they had grown roots into the ground that planted in him place. his throat ran dry and his stomach felt like it had just done a flip. the rest of him went numb while shock consumed his body, physically and mentally, rendering him entirely helpless.

images of isabel, farlan, petra, oluo, eld, gunther, and countless others all flashed before him, the same running theme echoed in his mind—he wasn’t able to save them. all he had to do was pull back a single index finger. this would launch one of his anchors into the back of the titan’s neck, sending him flying to slice its nape. but he couldn’t do it. the only thing he knew he had the power to do was watch helplessly as his partner would be eaten alive.

the shouts of others flooded his ears as his senses slowly began to return to him, but it didn’t matter. he couldn’t make out a thing. frankly he wished he could so he could break away from the things that occupied his mind now. shame. guilt. humiliation. fear. regret. he took for granted every moment he had ever spent with y/n. every smile she gave him. every time he embraced her. every kiss. every conversation they shared under the stars while everyone else was fast asleep. every opportunity he had but failed to tell her that he—

before he finished his thought someone finally broke through his trance. erwin was the one who was able to crack the surface and bring him back to life. 

the commander was shouting levi’s name, hoping, praying, to wake him up from whatever was going on in his head. levi was still unable feel his body, but he realized he was moving as the ground began to grow smaller. one of erwin’s strong arms hooked around levi’s middle and they were flying away from the chaos below. the commander spared a glance to levi to see the man’s eyes were still trained on y/n.

the feeling returned to levi’s body as he felt the pain of being thrown onto one of the thick tree branches surge through his body. not knowing how else to bring him back from the trance that wasn’t full broken, erwin had tossed off of him levi instead of placing him down gently.

he watched as levi scrambled up and expected him to yell back for throwing him, but the response was much different.

“where is she ??” levi demanded. his eyes may have been on y/n the whole time, but his mind was elsewhere replaying scenes from the past. he had no idea if she had been eaten, or even survived the initial attack. the only think he saw was her body on the ground, unmoving.

“safe,” erwin confirmed. “hanji ran over just in time and got her. but what happened to you ?” no one had ever seen levi freeze up the way he did. others believed it was just fear which made him seem a little more human to them, but erwin knew it was more than that.

throughout the years, erwin watched levi witness the deaths of those closest to him, and even then he was still able to act. but after seeing him go rigid, erwin was more than worried. it was clear levi went into shock, however, shock runs more than skin deep. 

this became even more evident to him as levi remained silent the entire way back to the walls. y/n was still unconscious, so one of the open carts was her escort. guilt continued to wash over levi as he wasn’t able to ride in the cart with her to monitor her closely because he had to ride his horse back. regardless, he stayed as close to the cart as possible and stole as many glances her way as he could.

if he had it his way, he would’ve waited outside the infirmary for y/n when they arrived back home, but hanji and erwin practically dragged him to the mess hall to replenish his energy. this may or may not be skipping the part where levi was questioned about what happened, followed by him being chastised for his actions (or lack there of). levi could bare focus even though it was such a serious conversation. his mind was still a hazy mess. as much as hanji and erwin wanted to talk to levi more about the situtation, they knew it was best for the conversation to end there for the day. levi looked so shaken up that he could barely keep himself standing so the last thing he needed was to be yelled at more. the entire corps also made sure to steer clear of the man. he usually had all his emotions hidden but they were on full display now. it still scared the hell out of them.

but the fear alone wasn’t enough to stop them from whispering to themselves. word carried fast about how captain levi froze up and watched one of his squad mates almost die. the ones who only heard about the story instead of witnessing it couldn’t believe what they were hearing. the captain levi did nothing while one of his own almost became titan food ? 

hearing the whispers in passing, levi didn’t care that they were talking about him, but he was still affected. their words just made reality sink deeper into him. they weren’t the only ones who were unable to believe what happened. he really just watched helplessly as someone almost died. and it wasn’t just someone, it was his other half.

“hey levi ?” hanji voiced, pulling him out of his head. levi didn’t bother looking up from his food that he had been staring at for the past few minutes to face her. the best he could to was give her a side glance as he peered at her from the corner of his eyes and waited for her to finish.

the glare he was sending her way made her blood run cold, but she took the hint and continued. “are you alright ?” she asked in a small voice.

“does it look like i’m alright ?” he growled back, then went back to eating.

“just wanted to ask,” she added with an awkward laugh then turned to erwin who was on the other side of her. for once in her life she knew not to press any harder, but making levi upset wasn’t her intention. she was genuinely worried about him. hanji gave erwin a what do i do now ? look, hoping for some help, but erwin could only shake his head. he cared about levi just as much as she did, but he knew there was nothing either of them could do or say to make levi feel better. the only thing he needed was to see y/n.

at last, levi finished his dinner and excused himself to go find his partner. as his feet carried him at a quick pace across the stone floors of the many hallways in HQ, fear came back to his already grim mind. there was no word on y/n’s condition so he assumed no progress had been made and she was still unconscious. 

needless to say, when he rounded the corner and saw her sitting on the bench right outside the infirmary swiveling her heels and tapping her toes together as if she was bored, shock overcame him once again, this time on a much lower scale. similar to just a few hours ago, he was frozen instantly upon seeing her. it was a much prettier sight this time, but it was still painful to see. the bandage that wrapped around her head peaked out from being any strands of hair that fell in front of her face, other wraps and patches plastered themselves across her arms and legs, and some purple and blue splotches peaked out from behind them. this was only the skin that was exposed. for once in his life levi didn’t want to think about what she looked like when she weren’t wearing any clothes. he made a quick mental note to later place tender kisses on all her bumps and bruises, and took of running towards her.

y/n had been discharged from the infirmary during dinner hours, so the halls has been quite empty as she sat outside alone, falling into boredom. when the first sounds of shoes hitting the ground entered her ears, she got a bit excited, but calmed herself down reminding herself it probably wasn’t him. but when the steps got quicker and louder, she finally let yourself look up to see up to see her partner was the source. there was no point in holding back anyone; her face visibly lit up and a wide smile placed itself on her lips. just like levi, y/n wanted nothing more in the entire world than to see him. 

he run turned to a jog then a complete stop as he halted in front of her. despite being so anxious to see one another, neither were really prepared. they just kinda...stared at each other, neither sure of the right words to say. levi decided to take the initiative. he opened his mouth, hoping something, anything, would come out, but his attempt fell flat. words just weren’t enough. instead, he lifted his arms and placed both hands gently on y/n’s shoulders. she caught on quickly, standing up at the same time as he was pulling her into his arms for a tight embrace.

the pair remained silent in each other’s arms until y/n decided to take initiative this time and finally spoke. “is it true ?” she mumbled against his neck, barely loud enough for him to hear.

as much as he had hoped the gossip would stay in the mess hall, levi knew that inevitably word would spread to her. someone must have told her everything that happened, leaving in every little detail about how levi made no moves to save her life, ending up having to be saved by hanji in the end.

based off his silence, y/n knew levi had a lot on his mind so she continued “did you really freeze up?” 

he didn’t realize it, but he had tensed up at her words. it absolutely pained him to answer, but he couldn’t imagine the pain she were feeling. 

summing up his courage, he began to confirm the worst, but she pulled away before he could get more than a “yes,” out. levi braced himself for the hurt expression that he would be faced with, knowing his heart would break instantly as she realized he truly did failed to protect her, but instead he was met with kind eyes and soft face.

the look on his face had utter disbelief written all over it as her hands went up to cup his face that was now reddening. “are you okay?” y/n asked softly. “im so sorry.”

levi was beyond bewildered. he wanted her to be furious at him. yell at him. pull her soft hands back and strike him as much as she pleased. tell him he failed and that she couldn’t stand the sight of him. he knew he deserved it all and more, but he should’ve known she would never do that. that wasn’t y/n.

he melted into her touch and placing one of his hand over one of hers that remained on his cheek. “i was terrified, y/n.”

y/n finally gave him one of her beautiful smiles and giggled softly. “why were you scared ? i was the one who almost got eaten,” she teased.

y/n’s laughs had quickly subsided after seeing the serious look that had etched itself onto levi’s face. “because you were in danger,” he started.

“i don’t know what id do with myself if i lost you, i...”

“i love you, y/n.”

it was finally y/n’s turn to get a taste of the shock that levi had been experiencing all day. she could’ve sworn her heart skipped a beat at his words, followed by butterfly wings tickling the inside of her tummy, her eyes widening and jaw falling slack. her hands slowly slipped from his face to instead place one of her palms on her chest to make sure her heart was indeed pumping at a regular pace.

levi, on the other hand, was not having a magical experience. y/n’s reaction made him feel as though his feelings weren’t reciprocated despite having been together for so long. he started to get deeper into his head, negative thoughts starting to eat away at him once again, when she finally spoke.

“i love you too, levi,” she breathed out, still too stunned to breathe properly.

levi had had enough of being unable to move for one day. one of his hands grabbed y/n’s waist while the other found its way to the back of her head, as he kissed her roughly, which she eagerly returned. the way he felt her grin against his lips was enough to make all the pain and fear he had experienced that day worth it.

he couldn’t have asked for a better outcome to such a shitty day.

levi had finally learned how to say i love you and he thanked the stars every night following that day that y/n was the one who taught him how.

[beepboop358]

"S4 Sneak Peek" Teaser - SECOND PART

This is my second post about the st4 sneak peek teaser, regarding the second half of the st4 sneak peek teaser, which contains the new images for s4.

(the first part of this s4 sneak peek discussion regarding the first half of the teaser can be found here.)

The California group; Will, Mike, Argyle, Jonathan (and El for part of the season), are not shown in the s4 footage, neither is Joyce, who we also know is in California for at least part of the season. There are several possible reasons why they aren’t included, one being that they are waiting to release any content surrounding Joyce and Will’s storyline until both of their individual teasers are released, or that their storyline contains major spoilers too sensitive to reveal at this time.

Now getting into the images…

The Grandfather Clock:

It is striking midnight, which could be a reference to the doomsday clock, or just time running out until something catastrophic happens.

This clock has been seen several times in promos:

My running theory is the clocks represent memories, which will be re-visited through the powers of the upside down/the void, essentially “time travel flashbacks". If you want to read more about this theory it's in my post here. I think the grandfather clock being positioned in the upside down, further supports this theory.

A clock was also seen in the "Eleven are you listening?" teaser, striking 3 a.m., aka "the witching hour".

Eleven in s4:

In the first image, Eleven looks like Joyce. She has the same hairstyle with the bangs. Whether she is mimicking Joyce after getting closer and more attached to her, or Joyce gave her this haircut, she undeniably looks like Joyce. She is wearing Hopper's flannel, but her clothing style also looks similar to Joyce's, just like her hair.

Eleven has obviously been kidnapped by the “bad men”, probably government agents for Hawkins Lab. From her facial expression and lack of movement, she isn't struggling or trying to get away from their grip on her, and that the black van behind her has its doors open and she is facing away from it, which means they probably just took her out of the van. Her facial expression indicates she is looking at something, full of disbelief and confusion. The tan ground and blue sky tell us this is obviously California. It was confirmed by leaked set pics of Joyce and Jonathan's cars license plates that the Byers move to Cali. I have a theory Dr. Owens/the gov. paid to re-locate the Byers to keep a low profile for Eleven, or at least gave them some money to use to re-locate to a place far away from Hawkins, because Joyce can not afford the kind of house they are living in there in Cali by herself with the kind of job she previously worked.

The second image of Eleven in the lab could be a memory/"time travel flashback", or it may not even be El, it could be another test subject that just looks like her, since they all did have shaved heads, but I feel like the person has very similar facial features to Millie, so it is probably Eleven.

The Hawkins group:

We have Nancy, Steve, Robin, Max, Lucas, Dustin and Erica left in Hawkins to investigate what is going on there. They are in the Claremont house, rumored to be "Vecna's lair" (the rumored new monster in s4)

The group appears to be looking at the grandfather clock, but we don't know for sure.

Usually all the couples are visually paired together in shots (which is especially prominent in s3) but here in this shot Max and Lucas are not standing next to each other, and in the bike riding shot they aren’t riding next to each other either. Max and Lucas are always breaking up and then getting back together in s3, so I wonder if them not standing together and not riding next to each other indicates a more permanent break up between the two.

Max is also at the center of the formation, and everyone stands around and behind her. I have a theory Max will be more central to the plot this year in discovering whats going on in Hawkins. Steve also appears to be looking directly at Max, as if he is reacting to or going to respond to what she is saying or has been saying.

Max, Dustin, Lucas and Erica riding their bikes could be them running away from something, rushing to get somewhere to deliver news/show up to something that's about to happen, etc, we really don't know.

The Dice:

The number 7 can be seen as one of the prominent numbers in the middle of a dice roll during a D&D game with the hellfire club. The number 7 is associated with Will and Mike, but also could allude to the "Eleven are you listening?" teaser where a puck was dropped on the number 7. 3 and 5 are also prominent numbers here.

I think the hands with the ring is Eddie or another new character. Neither Mike or Dustin's hands look like that. The person sitting next to him could be anyone. This person is seen wearing a hellfire club shirt, and we have seen everyone we know to be confirmed members of the club - Eddie, Mike, Dustin, wear this shirt in bts pics.

Hopper:

This shot is most likely of Hopper in the Russian prison, using a flame thrower as a weapon for his escape, or to defend himself from someone/something.

The car on fire:

If you slow the teaser down to 0.25x speed, you can see the mysterious figure is walking towards the flaming car, approaching it. This means this person was most likely not in the wreck. Although it would make sense for it to be Joyce's car because she drives a Ford Pinto which was an extremely flammable car due to design flaws Ford neglected, the back of the Ford Pinto is rounded, and this car does not seem to have a rounded back. During the scene in the woods in s3 after Joyce and Hopper kidnapped Alexei and Hopper's car won't start, it blows up. Joyce makes comments about how she could have died in the car explosion, which could be possible foreshadowing.

The mysterious figure appears to be a man, I'm guessing a young adult/teenager based on the stripes on the sleeve of their shirt - it just feels like something a teenager would wear, not a middle aged adult. My bet is that this figure is either Will, Jonathan, or maybe Mike - just based off of the body shape of the figure and that they would fit the age group.

The one thing we know for sure from this picture is that the car explosion happens in Hawkins. The skinny, tall trees that can be seen on the side of the road, only grow in certain places, mainly in the southeast of the US, and the Hawkins portion of ST is filmed in Atlanta, GA where these trees grow. These kinds of trees can’t grow in New Mexico where the California portion is being filmed, and definitely not in Lithuania, where the Russia portion is being filmed. In the show these trees only appear in Hawkins, Indiana. These trees are seen during Hopper's letter - when the Byers drive past the "Leaving Hawkins" sign. The slight curve in the road right where the skinny trees can be seen is very suspiciously similar.

Chrissy:

Described as the most popular girl in school hiding a dark secret, Chrissy's death/disappearance will probably be what sparks the suspicion, action, mystery, of the Hawkins storyline. It will be the event that triggers the Hawkins group to investigate what's really going on, and if the upside down is back again in Hawkins.

Steve under water:

He seems to be looking for something, it's unclear what, why, or exactly when in the season this scene will occur. Water has an underlying significance in the show, and last year the stranger writers account kept tweeting reminding everyone to drink water, and tweeted that Steve wasn't drinking enough water. There's definitely something going on here with the water references. That tweet about Steve not drinking enough water could allude to his possible death/serious injury. Steve is a popular contender to die this season, but I wonder if/when Steve dies, Dustin will also die because of the comment he makes in s3 to Steve saying, "If you die, I die."

[coffeeastronaut]

Insane to me that 13s finale was so bad like ik i literally quit watching during her run bc it sucked so bad but like. What. we got:

straight up incomprehensible plot with multiple irrelevant or unaddressed plot points beginning and then never getting finished or explained in any way (was was the master Rasputin? why did the plan have to happen in two different time periods? what were those two warring planets? why did we need the cybermen AND the daleks? why did the master use his big doe eyes to hypnotize those people?)

Comprehensible plot points that were botched (matryoshka cyberman, kidnapped energy source alien thing, ai holo doctor, yaz being/becoming the doctor in her own right, the doctor has so many friends forever and thats why shes a winner, master x doctor haties 4ever, yaz wondering if she’ll get left behind like other companions/being worried abt turning into them, dan leaving)

Comprehensible plot points that were stupid as shit (the master needing ace and tegan for the matryoshka.. he couldn’t have just kept it in his pocket? forced regeneration into the master so that he can wreck her reputation for some reason? siesmologists being kidnapped and also he graffitied some paintings (for some reason?) and these things are Clearly Related Duh. master wants to um, be the doctor for some reason? yeah im not touching that one frankly. the doctor suffering zero consequences from forced regeneration only to get laser beamed to death but then shes fine to like get ice cream and chit chat but she is dying. Dont think abt it too much.)

chibby coincidence catastrophe. this cunt loves to not write cause and effect lets just get lucky or slip or trip or fucking whatever. teagan slipping on that ladder so that she can get jumpscared but then it’s fine actually she can just slide away like dark souls, graham just like idk chilling and running into ace in the dalek lave pit, random traitor dalek (who is immediately killed and never relevant again???) just happens to contact the doctor just in time for the other daleks to use it as a trap????

and like on top of all this it had so many moments where you can practically feel chibnall begging the audience to get hype bc look xyz thing is here from previous thing on the show! like w/ the classic companions coming back (and i do love them! But WHERE was the relevancy beyond making yaz uncomfortable bc they both left in bad circumstances. Where was it.), or all of the doctors homies showing up to pilot the tardis with her (you WISH you were the stolen earth you WISH-), or the fugitive doctor (sorry i didnt watch that ep. but i know enough to know it was nothing more then a callback.), or seeing all the other doctors in 13s like dreamscape place or whatever the fuck (and what was the point of that? she just idk says hi guys! and then sits in there and waits? hello?), the companion support group (cute concept! joked abt in fandom for years! but so lame in execution im sorry!), UNIT being involved for some reason (this is the least egregious imo, since it slotted neatly into the plot. however since they didnt do anything other then say hey doc check out these paintings! ahhughh cybermen! it’s still stupid as shit.) ace and graham flirting for some reason???? LIKE WHAT WAS THE POINT HERE. Dan leaving (why didn’t he leave at the end of last episode when he was clearly thinking about it??) like ten minutes into the episode, and the doc is like okay bye! [leaves him homeless on the street] like what horrible pacing that was. And where the hell was ryan? Dan and graham come pick yaz up and ryan is no where to be seen. Maybe he could smell the bad vibes and stayed home. Christ

Yaz especially felt just soooooo botched and shitty. As i said before i quit watching after 13’s first season, but i did catch the last five min of the sea devils and even just there it was. Pretty fucking clear that they were confessing love to one another, but we ~cant be together ever~ (says the cunt whos had countless kinda-sorta-girlfriends and at least one wife!) because itll ~be sad~ (you wish you were tenrose you WISH-).

Her competence at flying the fucking tardis, delegating tasks, planning, and executing on all of it was flawless! that’s an insane level of skill for a companion to have, only ever shown in new who with River Song, and outliers like Doctor-Donna, Bad Wolf Rose, or whatever that was with immortal Clara. To have her do all that, especially with such success… it’s crazy. Usually we only see that level of competence from ex-companions, like Martha, Micky, dimension-hopping Rose, or Sarah Jane.

Both those things said. You’re telling me. The Doctor is regenerating. So. Yaz is just. Gonna go home? What? Not even that the the doctor intentionally abandoned her- although, arguably she did- just. She’s leaving i fucking guess. For no reason? After all that? I understand it’s partially a writing thing and mandip leaving the show or whatever, but like, that was seriously the best you can do? She just dips and goes to a support group?

And that feeds into a greater problem with the episode, the idea that all of this works bc the doctor has all these friends. And then she just like. Leaves. She just dips. Hits the fucking bricks ALONE. and again it’s partially the writer swap i’m sure. But what on Gods Green Fucking Earth. Not to mention it all hinges on her having friends but none of them seem to actually like her or be friends with her. it’s like houseplants instead of characters.

absolutely a shameful end to a shameful run of the show. I really hope that jodie/13 get the chance to come back under better writers in the future for audio dramas or whatever.

in conclusion, tldr, or whatever: jesus christ that shit

SUCKED

[egg-emperor]

not sure if you didn't get my ask the first time but what about Sonic X , version of Eggman? its Yuji Naka's vision and he isn't that evil as many of the other characters that appear in the series, I would really love to hear what you think about it as an Eggman fan

Oh I did get your ask, I was just trying to think of the best way to word my answer.

X Eggman has a very special place in my heart for being one of my first pieces of Sonic media, aside from Heroes and Shadow 2005. As you may know, that two games didn't have that much Eggman in them and his character was being mistreated with the way he was being sidelined. But something about Eggman was already appealing to me and I wanted to see more of him, so I watched X before getting any other games. It was one of the first bigger looks I got at Eggman as a result.

X really helped me fall in love with Eggman because I got to see much more of him and how charming, funny, and evil he can be. Literally every time he was on screen he made me smile and laugh, I just found him so entertaining. I still do to this day and I rewatch it annually. But it wasn't the idea they tried to push of him being 'not that evil' or capable of doing good that appealed to me about his character from the very beginning. I loved all the evil and assholic things he did throughout the show.

He still had evil, selfish, and rude moments that made him look like a big dick and I loved it. The idea of him suddenly caring for Sonic and friends later on came out of nowhere and I don't like how it was handled, so I like to imagine it was just another one of his acts to get on their good side, so they could all defeat the Metarex. I know that wasn't really the case and I'm not very happy about it. It was random and out of nowhere and it contradicts things that Eggman did in this very show. It downplays his villainy for no good reason.

I think the "when you actually hurt them, that's going too far" line was one of the most ridiculous things to come out of Eggman's mouth of all people. It makes him so hypocritical, even when it comes to his portrayal in the show because he still hurt plenty, attempted to kill Sonic and friends, tried to blow up Station Square, and did countless other terrible destructive things, and there's no way that multiple of his plans didn't result in collateral damage.

Chris wasn't even the exception either because remember when he jumped onto Eggman's Egg Mobile in an attempt to take the emerald, and when he grabbed Eggman's mustache, he shook him off and sent him plummeting to his doom? Where was the good in his heart when he allowed the twelve year old to fall and almost die and only cared about the fact that he'd just accidentally let the emerald fall with him? It doesn't seem very kind and caring to me, but very in character selfish, as he should be. So yeah, he's one to talk in that scene when he's even put Chris in harm's way himself.

In the Japanese version of that line, he said he doesn't hurt hostages. But what I think would've be more in character would be that he just wouldn't care if hostages get hurt, as long as they're still alive to use as the bait. I said in the little rant that I slipped into my Eggman X supercut season 3 video that the only way I could really see the scene working was if Eggman was just pretending to take the moral high ground just to piss off the Metarex or something. Because otherwise it just really doesn't make sense.

I despise the Metarex for being boring villains with generic designs. They really wanted us to think they were amazing, powerful, and scary but they were try hard and had no interesting motive. Eggman made them look stupid by pointing out how their plan doesn't make sense and results in destroying planets so they won't have anything to rule over and prove their power to. They have a boring motive, unlike Eggman who has an egotistical dream that he'll go to great lengths to accomplish, rather than just being "haha I'm so evil I'm going to destroy everything for no reason"

It feels like just another case of Eggman's villainy being downplayed in an attempt to emphasize how much better of a villain and bigger of a threat others are supposed to be, which I'm never a fan of because it's not true. Eggman isn't innocent compared to them, he just has a better plan that doesn't involve just destroying the world. And when you have to either put Eggman down or make him act OOC so he doesn't seem as evil, then they're clearly not good villains that can prove themselves on their own. Other villains shouldn't take away from Eggman, instead we should be told why we should see these villains as a dangerous threat like Eggman.

I can't take away the idea that 'oh Eggman is actually a kind and caring guy compared to the big scary super evil Metarex' away from the scene. He's a terrible person too, the only reason he frowns upon the Metarex's acts isn't because he has a good heart, it's because they're going to destroy everything he wants to conquer. Eggman has always been selfish and only cared about what he wants and he doesn't care who gets hurt as long as he gets it. This even applied to X Eggman himself earlier on in the show.

If he was truly a good guy, why wasn't he holding back and showing care from the start? When people were getting hurt because of his actions and he was intentionally trying to kill others, why were there so many moments of him clearly enjoying it? And if it was supposed to be seen as some type of character development, they didn't do a very good job at showing it because him actually being concerned for others came out of nowhere. And even so, I just don't think it works for Eggman because if there isn't some secret evil and selfish motive behind his actions, it just makes him a big hypocrite.

But besides that bothering me because it's not the kind of development I think Eggman should have, I love X Eggman for many other reasons in a way that I can rewatch the show without it getting to me much. But I still really wish they would've done some things differently because earlier on it seemed like they had the right idea but had to bring that whole twist out of nowhere which I just don't think suits a deeply selfish, narcissistic, dangerous man that lacks empathy. (Because yes, there were even blatant moments in X that showed Eggman's low empathy was still there. That's how he does the things he does without shame.)

And one thing that stops me from being as bitter about it in the end is that, despite who was involved with X in Japan, it's still clearly very separate from the games. Just like how Boom Eggman, who is also portrayed as being a nicer Eggman, is entirely separate. Game universe Eggman has done a lot more evil, selfish, fucked up catastrophic shit than both X and Boom Eggman combined and clearly has no ounce of remorse. That's why I've never been a fan of people attempting to merge the separate universes/canons together when they just don't work.

There's nothing in the games that implies game Eggman has this same mindset and ability to care about anyone other than himself, unlike X or Boom Eggman. And even though X Eggman was the first time I got to see a version of him really in action, it didn't shape my view of him in the games because I could recognize the differences. I'm happy that it didn't affect his game portrayal because I already think those moments in X were OOC enough for X Eggman when they contradict his actions, so it would've made even less sense for him in the game universe.

The concept of him being not such a bad guy doesn't need to be a part of his character to make him charming, lovable and entertaining to me. He's perfect just the way he is as the prideful, selfish, egotistical bastard that I fell in love with. 💜

[procrastinatorproject]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Trek: Picard Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Agnes Jurati/Cristóbal Rios Characters: Agnes Jurati, Cristóbal Rios Additional Tags: Meta, Developing Relationship, my take on Agnes and Cris's relationship, and why i think it works, Minor Character Death (Mentioned), Psychological Trauma

Title Inspired by @regionalpancake‘s glorious Downtime Drabble “You’re Light On Me”

A while ago, a friend confessed to me that they didn’t really understand what Agnes Jurati and Cris Rios see in each other. They felt the relationship seemed unmotivated and forced, and they didn’t really see why other people thought it worked.

I’ve seen this sentiment a few times since the show came out, and I’m not here to tell anyone they have to agree with the show-writers’ choices or like a relationship if it doesn’t work for them. But I recently reread the little essay I sent that friend in reply (after making sure they’d want to read it ;9 ), and I really liked it, so I thought I’d share it here.

When people say that the kiss between Agnes Jurati and Cristobal Rios at the end of Star Trek: Picard season 1 blindsided them, I understand where they're coming from. I think the showrunners could have done more to make the developing relationship between these characters truly obvious, but for me, it didn't feel like the mutual attraction between Cris and Agnes came completely out of nowhere. Let me explain.

One of the big things about Rios’s character I find striking is that he wants to be stoic and cynical and misanthropic, but he just... can't do it. He tries! He's short, he hides behind his books, and he pretends he doesn't care about politeness. But the only people he ever swears at are Raffi, a very good friend, and the holos (which are a whole other matter, because there is all this self-loathing tied up in Cris's relationship with them). Over the course of season 1, it's pretty clear that Rios is rather good at reading people, and he wants to do right by them. He defers to Picard pretty much immediately and Soji looks at him pleadingly once and he decides to put his ship at risk for her.

Rios doesn't want to like people, he just can't help himself. He wants to be annoyed by Agnes interrupting his reading, but I think he finds her quirkiness disarming and charming. It's already visible in the way he looks at her on the bridge, when they talk about paper books. And then they go to the holodeck to discuss Picard's detour to Vashti. Since Agnes is the audience stand-in, she asks a bunch of questions, and instead of being annoyed or short, Cris patiently explains everything to her (after offering her a seat). Later, when Cris asks Agnes what she thinks about his outfit for the Stardust City caper and she says he's killing it, there's a beat there. He seems almost a little taken aback, either by her sincerity, or maybe by realizing he values her opinion. It's yet another thing they connect over it. (Also robot boxing. That scene is adorable)

With regards to Agnes… I think partially, she's leaning into her natural humour and quirkiness to appear non-threatening and not give herself away, but I also have another read on her behaviour. (This may partially be me projecting WAY TOO HARD, or, to put it more generously, applying some lived experience to what we see of Agnes's character, so your take on this might be very different. But this is what I see.)

When Agnes and Cris talk before they go off to have sex, Agnes is making jokes and smiling. To me, that doesn’t read as fake or a ploy to manipulate Rios, it seems real. And then when he asks, really asks, how she's feeling, suddenly there is this chasm of pain right under the surface. For me, the idea that Agnes has this intense psychological trauma and is dealing with it by finding joy in little things, like watering the plants, and reading papers, and flirting with the hot captain by completely wrong-footing him with a comment about her dad... it feels very authentic. And I can see how this guy, who pretends to be all uncaring and edgy but is actually a big softie not very far under the surface, and who smiles at her jokes and takes the time to explain stuff to her and listens to her babble, that's a nice distraction from the horrible things happening in her mind. Not in the sense that she's manipulatively using him, but in the sense that this kind of human connection gives her moments of light and gives her reasons to keep going, even through so much pain.

After Agnes kills Maddox, she is deeply, deeply conflicted over what she's done. To the point where when they’re leaving the Artefact, she basically says "I don't care if the world ends if I don't kill Soji. Let it all burn. I just can't do this anymore". And then here is this man, who's kind and caring and, yes, hot, and at first it's "I just want to feel something, anything, and he's here, he's half-naked, he's gorgeous". And Rios isn't necessarily opposed to a no-strings-attached fling. Because he keeps telling himself he doesn't get attached and he hates people and he's only ferrying them around because they're paying him. So it's a distraction with a woman who is quirky and witty and pretty, but it won't mean anything, and that's okay.

And then Agnes changes her mind, because she realizes having sex with Rios will make things more complicated. Or maybe because she thinks Rios deserves better. Or that she shouldn't have sex to distract herself from horrible emotional pain because that's kinda unhealthy.

So she pulls back.

And Rios, instead of being annoyed at missing out or feeling like she led him on, or any number of things, asks her how she's feeling. In a way that makes it clear (at least to me) that he really cares about the answer. And for a moment, Agnes lets him see the true darkness inside her. Because she can pretend it's about Maddox dying, she can pretend it's just about being a lonely nerd. She doesn't have to tell him how bad it really is, but she lets herself feel all of the bad emotions for just a moment.

And then she kisses him again, maybe to shut herself up or to distract herself, or because she needs the connection. And he doesn't have any illusion about what it is they're doing. He knows she's trying to feel better, he essentially tells her he knows it's a way for her to deal with her devastation, and he's okay with it. Maybe because he knows what it's like to feel hollow and terrified and need something, anything to cling to.

And at this point, I think they're both still telling themselves that they don't actually care about each other. Cris because he doesn't want to care about anyone ever again so he won't get hurt. (Which, again, he fails miserably at, but I think that's how he wants to see himself and why he treats his holos with so much disdain that Emil tells Picard "He doesn't get any nicer", even though we see Rios being kind to all the people on board.) And Agnes doesn't really have the brain space to allow herself to fall for anyone. She's just taking little moments of light and human connection where she can get them. And they both decide to have sex as a one-night-stand, just to make Agnes feel better for the night, just because they're both lonely and in pain. No deeper meaning behind it.

And then the whole tracker debacle happens. It takes three days to get to Nepenthe and by the time Agnes goes into a coma, they're still a couple days away at least. She doesn't wake up until Picard is back on board, which means she's out for a long time. Even though we don’t see much of the medical drama, we can assume she was very much at death's door. So, now Rios is faced with once again losing someone he feels somewhat responsible for. Someone he has actually gotten close to. And I think that moment and the fear it causes him might make him start to realize how much he actually cares about her.

And then when Picard and Soji are on board, they all sit down together and figure out the big mystery at the heart of season 1. And here is another thing Cris and Agnes find out they have in common: Both of their lives and minds got destroyed by Oh's machinations. Cris went against everything he believed in when he covered up what Vandermeer had done. He didn't actively kill anyone, but he feels like Vandermeer's death is his fault. His belief in the fundamental goodness of Starfleet was shattered when they threatened to blow up his ship. For Agnes, this kind of shattering of a truth she had clung to comes when she realizes she wasn't acting on the directive of the Head of Starfleet Security in a black-ops mission sanctioned by one of the most important institutions of the Federation. Instead, she was nothing but a pawn, used by Oh for nefarious purposes that had nothing to do with the greater good. The exact circumstances of their traumas are different, but they were both caught up in the same catastrophe and cover-up and it has marked them in similar ways.

I think this is one of the reasons Rios doesn't blame Agnes for killing Maddox. If anything, he gets more protective of her, e.g. by trying to stop Sutra from forcing another mind-meld on Agnes. You can see this in a more subtle scene, too: when Cris says goodbye to Agnes at Coppelius station, he reaches out to touch her face, but then he hesitates and proceeds with extreme gentleness and care. To me, that reads like someone very, very aware of the other person's trauma and possible triggers (forced mind-meld) and caring deeply about making sure she feels safe and has something good to counterbalance the horrible memories.

And finally, we clearly jump quite a bit in time at the very end of season 1. When our motley crew sets out from Coppelius, the Synth Ban has been lifted. Just imagine the bureaucracy that must have taken! That’s not something that can be overturned in a day. Also, Raffi and Seven have had time to connect, so I imagine in that time, Cris and Agnes, too, will have slowly figured out whether they're compatible and whether this relationship is something they might, very carefully and gently, endeavour together.

Because they have a compatible kind of humour, because they understand what it's like to feel deeply broken but to keep going regardless, because she's witty and quirky and he's caring and kind and they went through a very specific hell together, and they might be able to hold each other's hands as they slowly make their ways towards healing.

I’m going to do a metatextual thing here and quote an absolutely gorgeous drabble by @regionalpancake that, to me, encapsulates one very important aspect of the relationship between Cris and Agnes.

     Your Light On Me  

You’d forgotten just how it felt. To feel like you. A stranger, Last seen aboard the Ibn Majid. Proud, red trimmed shoulders, Bright pips, a polished combadge. You signed aboard, And found A different man signed off. You’re old enough to know, She cannot fix you. You wouldn’t want her to. That’s between Pops and you. That’s your work to do, Not hers. But Agnes? Preciosa. Something in her, Shines a light. Reminds you who you are. You have to find, Your own way home. But god, It’s nice, At last, To find, A gentle soul, To hold the lamp.

 Chapter 74 of Downtime

That. Right there. A gentle soul to hold the lamp. I think for me, that's what the relationship between Cris and Agnes boils down to.

They are broken people in a broken world, but by the end of season 1, they have found that they can hold each other while they try to put themselves back together. And what starts out as a fun, distracting flirtation, then turns into "meaningless" sex to stop feeling lonely and sad, finally becomes the beginning of a relationship built on shared trauma, but more importantly on kindness and charm.

I have no idea whether these two can make it work long-term, but I am very much on board for what we've seen so far, and I hope this can help a bit in explaining why.

NB: After I finished writing this a few weeks back, I remembered that there was a fic that came to very similar conclusions. Upon reread, I realized it essentially hits the exact same points I do here and does so absolutely beautifully. So if you want a truly touching in-universe perspective on this relationship, go and read Love Comes Softly by Be_Right_Back (@smhalltheurlsaretaken, or listen to the Podfic recorded by Thimblerig. I cannot recommend this fic highly enough!      

[enigmainvestigations]

ENI Season 1 Premiere (episodes 1-7)

AO3 post: ???    Series link: ???

Episode 1 - Matchbox

Something banged below him. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it was enough noise to wake him. He stirred lazily, feeling his undershirt sticking to his skin. The room was humid this morning -- if it even was morning. He could feel the nausea creeping in after all those drinks the night before, it made his muscles hurt, and his throat drier the more that he woke. He slowly opened one eye, and the hazy outline of his window met his vision. He wasn’t sure if he’d left it open the night before; all he knew was that everything was much louder this morning. He let out a deep groan and reached a hand out to the floor to grab his glasses. Putting them on, he stared at the cracked ceiling above him, willing the nausea away. Throwing one leg off the couch, he slowly pulled himself up, trying to get his mind into gear enough to make it to the bathroom. His throat protested as he cleared it. Finally pulling himself up to his feet, he made his way to the small kitchenette in the next room. He opened the icebox, plucked the ice cube tray from within, and made his way to the bathroom. Cursing, he struggled to fit his tall frame in the cramped room, where he turned on the faucet and plugged the sink. He cracked the tray to release the ice and dumped them into the basin. Discarding the tray to the ground, he took a deep breath and pressed his face into the cold water. The sting sent a jolt into his mind, making him recoil quickly, gasping for air. Feeling his glasses sliding to the tip of his nose, he reached up and removed them, wiping his free hand across his face.

Placing his glasses back on, he leaned over the sink again, rapidly splashing the freezing water through his hair and around his neck. The sensation was horrid, but he could feel his brain waking up. He began to rinse his arms too, but stopped when the phone started ringing. Its dreaded sound filled the office, forcing him to turn off the water and grab the small towel by the sink. As he made his way over to his small wooden desk, he dried himself off, and, picking up the handset, answered:

“Yeah?” “Inmate 71170, this is officer Blue 334. Check in.” came the usual droll voice. “Not an inmate, on release.” Edward responded. There was a sigh. “We’ve gone through this, it's just procedure.” “Well, it’s a dumb procedure, and you’re dumb for following it,” Edward grumbled, as he sat down in his desk chair. “Good morning to you, too, Nigma. Glad to hear you’re your usual chipper self.” There was the slightest pause, then the voice became stern once more. “Check in.” “Still alive. Still in the exact same spot as the last time. You should know that, you called me.” Edward said, plucking the cigarette pack off of his desk. “Paperwork says you attended all your meetings. Employment?” the voice asked. There was no emotion or finesse to its tone; it bored Edward. “Self-employed. Can I just answer ‘nothing has changed’ and be done with it?” Edward asked hurriedly, speaking around the cigarette in his mouth as he lit it. “No. We’ve gone through this, Nigma. Profits?” “None,” Edward answered, unable to keep the anger out of his voice.

There was the sound of typing on the other line. “Alright, you’re all set. Your appointment with Dr. Lewin is at 11am on Thursday. Expect another follow-up call in a few days.” “A few days?” Edward arched his back, stretching. “Are my daily activities so boring you fools think I don’t need babysitting every morning?” He heard the sound of the line going dead and slammed the handset back on the receiver. He took a deep drag on his snipe, hissing in anger as he blew the smoke out. He’d come to expect such rude behavior from the officer, but the disrespect still got under his skin. Standing up from the desk, he shuffled back to the bathroom. Instead of entering, he snatched a clean shirt from the back of the bathroom door and pulled it on, buttoning it and tucking it into his pants. A belt, socks, and his shoes quickly joined the ragged ensemble before he grabbed his coat and made his way out of his office. He descended the rickety wooden stairs down to the main entrance of the building and stepped out onto the sidewalk, squinting at the sunlight. The heavy air was already making his skin feel dirty. He wondered if the grime of the streets was seeping up through the moisture. The thought was revolting.

Edward checked for a break in the traffic then hurried across the street, the action making his muscles ache in protest. Once across, he ducked into the small corner shop, snuffing out his cigarette on the wall by the entrance. The dawn work rush was long over, leaving the shop mostly empty. There was just enough change in his pocket to get his usual goods; a quick check confirmed that. He ordered a coffee, and a copy of the morning’s paper. Tossing the coins to the counter, he noted the owner's expression. It was the same every morning; a look of distrust and, perhaps, a twinge of fear. The man never spoke, but he also never caused Edward any trouble, and Edward was happy for that.

He grabbed his newly purchased items and darted back across the street, but slowed down significantly when he reached his building and climbed the steps back up to his office. He took a sip from his coffee and he took off his coat, then tossed it to the couch as he passed by and flopped back into his desk chair. He set the coffee down and rubbed his palms together rapidly, trying to relieve some of his nervousness. A small breath escaped his lips as he flipped it open, skimming some of the articles just to make sure there hadn’t been some catastrophic event while he’d been passed out. He was sure he’d have plenty of time later to read through it. He was rarely busy on his appointment-free days, and he needed to check the classifieds for any potential work. Leafing through the pages, a small headline made him stop: “Riddler Released,” it read in bold. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes rapidly skimming the small article. It was on his release from Arkham, and said something about it not being in the public’s best interests. He was dangerous, the journalist declared, and it was clear that they had only “set him loose on the city” because of a lack of funds. Reading the words, he could feel the muscles in his jaw tighten and his teeth clench.

He’d been out for about three weeks now, and the idea of his release only now being reported made him feel somehow small. Typically when his name had been in the paper it was front page news, with the flashiest of zingy headlines. “The Riddler’s Rampage” had always been his favorite -- he used to have a clipping of it, and he’d kept it pinned up at one of his hideout’s workstations. But now, here he was, barely important enough for a small blip on the fourth page. Is this what he’d been reduced to? Is that what they thought of him? And what did they mean that his being released was just due to funding? Did they really think that they would let him, of all people -- someone the mayor once called one of the most dangerous criminals in all of Gotham -- would they really let him out on the streets simply because they couldn’t afford to keep him? One time, during a blackout, the asylum had redirected power from external generators just to keep the locks on his cell in place. One would think the people in the city would be more frightened. He was sure having him out and about would instill fear in the public; the looks he received on the street certainly cemented that thought. But the funding conclusion was insulting, irritatingly so. But, then, that annoying inner voice crept in, the voice that had started months ago and hadn’t stopped bugging him since.

Things are different now. None of you are really all that scary anymore, not after the real fear that the public felt. In their eyes, your release is just another example of how the city has turned its back on its people. They’re more afraid of that reality. He felt his confidence seep away and pushed the paper away from him on the desk. Those thoughts always seemed to choose the worst moments to creep in, second-guessing his rationality and stalling him whenever he needed confidence. He took a sip of coffee and reminded himself it wasn’t always bad, that it’d saved his life more times than he could count. Right now, though, wasn’t one of those times. He really wished he had better control over that voice, but it always chose the worst moments to creep into his thoughts. He’d always been critical of others, and was used to his mind picking apart the weaknesses and flaws of the people around him. It always felt like an advantage he held over them -- but then, his mind had done something rebellious. It looked inward. It found his flaws, his weaknesses. And now it refused to stop or yield in its examination of everything wrong with him and his thinking.

He leaned back in his chair. What little energy he’d had to be productive today had gone, and his frustration was making his hangover worse. He could feel a slight headache coming on; his first thought was that he would never drink again, but he knew that was a lie. For the first time in his life, his mind was an enemy, unrelenting and traitorous, and, sometimes, the alcohol was the only thing that got it to stop. Bad nights, like last night, were just too exhausting to deal with on his own.

The phone rang again, yanking him from his thoughts. He stared at it as if confused, pondering who it could be, and reached over to answer. “Enigma Investigations, this is Nigma,” he said plainly into the handset.

There was a silence at first, then came the tender voice of a woman, “Mr. Nigma? Edward Nigma? As in, the Edward Nigma?” Edward rolled his eyes, but kept his voice as professional as he could. “Yes, miss, that’s me. What can I do for you?” He assumed it was a reporter, probably desperate for some scandalous headline to please her editor; he was sure he was going to get a lot of those, now that the story of his release was getting around. There was a pause on the line. “My name is Donna Hattie, I-” she paused for a moment. Edward could hear the nervousness in her voice when she continued, “I’m sorry, I’ve never done something like this before. I feel rather foolish. I was just wondering if I could speak with you?” Edward frowned at that. “About what, exactly, Miss Hattie? I’m sorry, but I’m not really interested in speaking with any papers at the moment.” “Oh, oh, no! Nothing like that! It's just -- I read in the paper you’re a private investigator?” Hattie said hurriedly.

Edward felt his brain jolt back to life. “Yes! I’m so sorry, Miss Hattie. I’d assumed I’d be hearing from reporters a lot today. My apologies, what can I help you with?” “Oh, it's fine. I’m sure you get a lot of those kinds’a calls,” she huffed lighty, and the next words she spoke were much softer, as if she was whispering, “I wanted to speak with you about my apartment building. It's just -- I’d prefer to speak to you in person, if that’d be alright?”

“Of course,” Edward could feel his pulse quicken, “let me give you the address.” The next few moments were rather swift. He gave her the easiest route to his building from her side of the city; she wasn’t that far away. Bidding her safe travels, Edward hung up the phone. His eyes scanned the room in horror, and he began quickly tidying up, opening the windows to help air it out as he went through the room. He chucked the garbage out the window onto the fire escape, sifting it out of view with his foot. He flipped the couch cushions over and snatched his coat up, hanging it by the door. He gave the room one last look over and, deciding this was as good as it was going to get, he hurried back to the bathroom. The water in the sink was still cold, but he didn’t have the time to worry about that now. He had to get at least some of the city grime off. He removed his clothes and glasses and dunked his head in the freezing water, ruffling it through his hair. Cleaning and drying himself off the best he could, he grabbed his only set of clean clothes from the bathroom door, expertly putting them on. Adjusting his glasses in the mirror, he fixed his hair and made a mental note of how much he hated how the grey color of his suit looked on him. The color, combined with his weight loss, made him look unhealthier than he actually felt. He took a deep breath, taking one last look at himself in the mirror, and hurried back to the main room, closing the bathroom door as he left. It wasn’t much of a wait for Miss Hattie to arrive. He’d had just about enough time to gulp down the rest of his coffee when he’d heard the knock on the door. Answering it, he let her in and held out his hand to her. “Nice to meet you, Miss Hattie. Hope it wasn’t too hard to find?” At first she seemed apprehensive, but she shook his hand. “Oh, no, dear. Your directions were rather clear, it's nice to meet you as well.” Pulling her hand back, she rested a painted fingernail to her lip, a small smile forming there. “It is you,” she said softly. “I’ve seen your picture plenty’a times. Y’know, I thought this was just someone trying to make money off’a your name? It wasn’t until I saw that article in the paper that I got up the courage to call you.” Edward was taken back by that, but quickly put on a smile to cover it. “Ah, I see. Well, I’m glad you did. Please, sit,” he said, and he motioned her to the small wooden chair in front of his desk. He pulled it out for her, making sure she was comfortable, before sitting down himself. He noticed her looking around the office, though he didn’t detect any looks of fear or disgust. He was used to surprise meetings in his previous line of work, but now he felt like a fish out of water, almost sure he’d overlooked something. It is odd she looks so relaxed around you, not many would be. The thought struck him suddenly, and he decided to take a closer look at his prospective client. Miss Hattie was a short woman; it was hard to determine her age, but she certainly had seen some years. He noticed her attire, crisp and clean, though nothing she wore cost over a dollar. He’d heard the West Side accent over the phone, and even though his ego slumped when he saw she clearly wasn’t some millionaire here to have him follow her rich husband around, something about this scenario made his mind itch for more information.

It was especially odd, considering that the city had only just now started to get itself back together. And after what had happened he knew the citizens of Gotham were anxious of the survivors, especially those who were criminals. The unease was palpable, as if at any moment they were expecting retaliation, retribution for their hand in the events. That the criminals were going to do to them what they’d condoned. The people of the slums were especially nervous; they’d already been through enough of the chaos, and he knew they were already bracing for the second round of destruction. And now, here sat Miss Hattie, in the office of a criminal -- a survivor -- in a slum not too far from where the horror had begun. He wasn’t sure if she was brave, smart, desperate, or if she was simply a cog in another scheme to get to him. He’d gotten used to desperate calls from investigators trying to get his statement, and the doctors at the asylum had spent most of their time trying to crack into his mind to see what possible damage had been caused by the events. Or, maybe, someone wanted to take advantage of his new lot in life to get revenge. That wouldn’t be surprising. Miss Hattie didn’t look the type; rather than some sort of malicious spy, she looked like a woman who had worked her whole life and probably had a family. Normal, boring human behavior. She did seem a tad nervous, but, if she was genuine, he understood why that was. He broke himself out of his thoughts and flashed her a calm smile. “So, you said you’d feel more comfortable talking here. Are you in any kind of danger?” Miss Hattie looked shocked by the assumption, shaking her head with a light chuckle, “Oh! No, no. It's nothing that serious. It’s just, I’m staying with my son currently. I don’t think him or his wife would approve of me coming here to speak with you.” Smart kid, Edward thought. “I see. Is your son aware of -- well, you said something happened with your apartment building? It was a little hard to hear you over the phone.” “Yes, he’s aware. It's why I’m staying with him,” Miss Hattie said, a twinge of nerves showing in her voice. “So it's not just a quick family visit, I take it?” Edward asked. She clutched her handbag tighter, and the muscles in her arms tensed. She was shutting down. Edward leaned forward, lowering his tone to calm her. “Miss Hattie, you don’t need to be nervous. Anything you say to me, I’m not going to repeat, not to anyone. I legally can’t, even if I wanted to. Nothing you say leaves this room.” Her eyes brightened at that, and he could see some of the tension leave her. “Really?” she asked, before letting out the breath she’d been holding, fanning herself with the handkerchief she’d plucked from her bag. “I’m so sorry. I’ve never done something like this before. Thankfully, never had to. I wasn’t sure-” she stopped suddenly. Leaning forward, she dropped her voice. “If I tell you about a crime, do’ya have to tell the cops?”

Edward raised his brows. “No,” he said flatly. That didn’t seem to calm her as much as he’d hoped. “Miss Hattie, you really don’t need to worry about the cops with me. I’ve had plenty of experience with them. Trust me, they won’t get anything out of me.” He thought the boast might’ve been overdoing it, but, to his surprise, she chuckled. “Oh, I bet you do! I thought as much, but I wasn’t sure if -- didn’t know if you had to report crimes, and things of that sort.” she said through her laughter. “I wouldn’t be doing this job if I had to. Anyway, I can run circles around them if need be. You really don’t need to be concerned about that.” He was rather surprised by this development, he hadn’t pegged her as someone who might be involved in the more seedy elements of the city.

“Good! I don’t trust them with this. I mean, they’re already involved, and that’s part of the problem. Fools aren’t doing a very good job, as I see it.” She leaned back in the chair, appearing much more relaxed than she had been since she arrived. Not a predator, she’s the prey, he thought. “They don’t have the best track record. But, they are rather busy at the moment. So, was it a break in?” he asked.  

“No. It’s -- the building caught fire,” she said. The words sounded hard for her to get out. “The whole thing just went up in flames, like a matchbox.” That statement brought back some memories Edward preferred not to think about. “I see. And I take it they have already investigated, and found no foul play?” He saw her nod, and continued. “You don’t agree?” Miss Hattie took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before she spoke again. “The firemen said it was an electrical fire. Something about how the grounding had gone bad, chalked it up to damage that must’ve happened during the lockdown, or some such nonsense.” She wiped her face with the handkerchief. “Thing is, though, the landlord had everything checked. I remember, I had to let some workers into my apartment. Tore a hole in my wall to get to some of the wiring, never did completely pick up after themselves.” She huffed, annoyed. “Wait, they just did maintenance on the wiring in the building?” Edward asked. She nodded in response, making him frown. “Was the building part of the lockdown?” “No. See what I mean? It's strange,” she said, frowning down at the floor for a moment. Looking back up, her eyes met his, and he could see a determination in them that wasn’t there before. “Mr. Nigma, I’m just gonna be honest with you. I can’t pay you much. I know that I don’t have that much of a reason to even be suspicious, but I just have a feeling. You ever just know something’s wrong? And the feeling just won’t go away? No matter how much you try to talk yourself out of it?” Yeah, you know what that’s like, all too well. Edward nodded, enticing Miss Hattie to continue, “All I really need -- you’re a very smart man. I’ve heard of the things you’ve done, I read all about what you did with the Gunners Boys. I followed it through the papers. If something is wrong, I’m sure you’ll be able to find it. I just -- can you just go take a look? That’s all I need, just your eye, just look and see.” She took a breath before continuing, “It will only take about an hour of your time, and if you tell me you don’t see anything suspicious, I’ll accept it.” “And if I do find something suspicious?” Edward asked.

“If you do… I guess I’ll just have to keep pestering those cops.” Miss Hattie finished, sitting up in the chair. Edward remained silent, his mind running through the potential issues this case could bring up. If the police were already involved, he knew his presence would surely get people talking -- as if many people talk about you these days -- but he really didn’t want to give them an excuse to come knocking at his door. And going out to the slums at night wasn’t a very safe idea, either. Normally, he wouldn’t feel any concern over it, but he really had lost quite a bit of his muscle mass over the last few months. The lack of money and food aren’t helping in that department, but you’ve been in worse shape and survived. This could still be a trick, but using some woman with a story of a fire sounded like an idiotic ploy just to lure him out to some abandoned slum. His mind started to wonder if this could have anything to do with Penguin, when that voice grew more insistent. She’s going to pay you to go look at some burnt rubble, stop overthinking it. You need the money. Hell, you don’t even really have to go. You could make up some story, she’d probably believe you. “Alright, I’ll give the scene an examination,” Edward finally said, making a small smile cross Miss Hattie’s lips. “Thank you. Thank you very much, Mr Nigma,” she said. During the rest of their exchange, her mood seemed to have improved. Edward found it strange but oddly comforting that she happily handed her money over to him. She seemed in full confidence he’d be true to his word, which was certainly not the treatment he was used to receiving, especially from regular citizens. He grilled her for a few more moments, asking questions of any potential concerns he should take into account and jotting her answers down in his notebook. He helped her to her feet and reiterated the directions for the quickest route back to her side of the city. She thanked him for his concern, and, just before he closed the door behind her, she looked him in the eye, still with that calm smile. “I really do hope I see you again, Mr. Nigma,” she said, before descending the stairs. Not as gullible as she seems, he thought.

He spent the rest of the daytime hours eating what little food he had left in the kitchenette, taking a much-needed nap to help with his hangover, and washing his other suit in the bathroom sink. He hung it on the laundry line outside his window on the fire escape. With the humidity he knew it was going to take longer than normal to dry, the rains were really lingering this year. After finishing picking up the garbage he’d dumped there this morning, he looked to the sky, noting the low hanging clouds that looked full enough to burst. He frowned as he climbed back through the window to the kitchenette. He’d had enough of the rains, to be quite honest. He never thought it was possible, but he was ready for the chill of the Gotham fall. He took the money Hattie had given him and hid it in the narrow crack in his desktop, while his mind began working over the case again. What would be the best way to handle it? He was sure if he simply did a walk by the premises he’d be able to gather enough visual cues to make up a convincing story, hopefully something that would ease her mind. He looked out the window behind him, staring at the rain clouds rolling over the slums around him. The rain would be good cover. He’d be able to sneak in without many witnesses, and he was sure the storm would keep many unsavory people off the streets. He sat down at the desk, reached over to grab the paper he’d discarded that morning, and began flipping through the pages. His neighbor’s radio turned on -- it was always loud enough for him to hear it with the windows open -- and he listened periodically to the news reports that broke in. Eventually it became too dark for him to finish the article he’d been reading, so he flipped on the tiny lamp on his desktop. A light tapping sound began on the window behind him. It was raining. He leaned back in the office chair, letting out a deep breath; he figured now was time to make a final decision. He listened to the streets below, hearing the vendors begin to close their windows and pull their displays inside. The city was closing down early. If he planned this right, he could finish in enough time to stop by one of the shops and grab some more whiskey. His fingers were tapping out a rhythm on the desk as he thought, his mind rapidly deciding on the best plan to get there and back. Standing up, he grabbed his switchblade from the desk drawer and stuffed it into his pocket, turning off the light as he went to grab his coat. Throwing it on, he placed his hat on and locked the door behind him as he headed down the stairs. He stepped out onto the sidewalk and looked around. There were a few children down the street playing in the rain, but otherwise people were quickly shuffling about, trying to find shelter. He turned on the spot and began the walk to the streetcar stop. Walking the city blocks there would be unpreferred in the rain, but he decided it would help ease more of the fog his hangover still had over his body. The walk wasn’t as horrible as he’d figured it would be, and the streetcar wasn’t as packed as he’d imagined. He easily found a spot to sit on one of the benches, his aching muscles thankful for the rest. As the streetcar rattled along its track, his mind began to mull over all the information again as he formed a plan to get in and out quickly. He vaguely watched as riders got off at different stops, eventually leaving the streetcar almost empty. Being lost in his thoughts for most of the trip, he was alarmed when a sickness began in his stomach. Then it hit him. It was the smell of the city around him, the rain, and that familiar sickening smell of rotting, burnt wood. The smell of the river flooded his senses. He’d forgotten they’d changed the streetcar route. He didn’t look up, he didn’t need to, he could already hear the sloshing sounds of the water as they got closer to the island bridges. His eyes scanned his surroundings for a street sign, but as he did, he could feel his hands start to shake. He willed them to stop. The sign for Billington passed by, and he hurried to the back of the car, hopping out into the street. The sudden silence of his surroundings made the sounds of the river so much louder in his ears. He hurried onto the sidewalk, silent. His breath was quickening, and he could hear the blood flowing through his head. The sickness in his stomach was becoming almost unbearable. He shook his hands at his sides, trying to relieve some of the nervousness and the tension. Without looking up, he turned down the sidewalk, beginning the remainder of his trip. Keeping his eyes low to the pavement as he walked, he heard a car turn down a street behind him. It made his nerves spark in anticipation. He tried to keep his focus just on his steps, one foot in front of the other, ignoring the memories trying to creep back into his mind. Another step forward and his foot went right through a puddle. The sensation of the dirty water filling his shoe opened up a floodgate; suddenly, flashes of events tore through his mind.

Knee-deep water, the weight of the gun in his hand, the pulsing pain in his right leg.

He stopped on the sidewalk and shut his eyes tightly, trying to get the memories to stop, but the smell of the river kept bringing them back. He let out a pained groan. He didn’t understand. He felt so out of control. The one thing that had always been his greatest ally was turning on him. The fear quickly turned to frustration. He opened his eyes, deciding he was sick of it, sick of avoiding it all. All he was doing was just desperately patching holes on a sinking ship. He turned and looked at the island bridge, thinking it was time to stop running, and start confronting it head-on.

Some remnants of the barricades remained: large trunks of wood and brick were pushed up against the railing, razor wire glistening in the rain. The street was still damaged nearby, and the city had done some rush patch job to fix it, leaving the cracks still visible on the uneven pavement. The island across the river looked tiny. The dark buildings speckled the horizon; it looked like the remains of something dead, a carcass, rather than a once-populated island. It smelled different now, and the silence of it made him uneasy. He’d expected an intense barrage of memories, like what happened often at night, but he was met with something lifeless. He stared for a moment longer, noticing the fencing the city had put up around it, seeing where they’d cleaned a route on the main roads for the construction traffic. Looking to the street signs above, he saw the directional signs for the Narrows had been blocked off. Large “detour” signs took their place, directing traffic to the overhead bridges. The sight gave him a feeling of finality. The island held no answers, and it provided no closure. It was just dead. Letting out a deep breath, he took one last look at the island and continued down the opposite street toward his destination.

The farther he got from the Narrows, the more the sensations began to ease. His fear and frustration was replaced with a sense of emptiness he hadn’t expected; he felt almost numb to it all by the time he reached the buildings he was headed to. He’d thought actually looking at the island would be like confronting some horrific beast, and the lack of that resolution or answers of any kind was wearing on him. Stop worrying, talk to Lewin about it in your next appointment-- but that thought frightened him. He took a deep breath to compose himself, then he looked up at the buildings around him. The lights inside them and the soft sounds of people filled the air; he hadn’t thought this block would still be inhabited. Then he saw it: the darkened shell of what he assumed to be Miss Hattie’s previous residence. He could see the smoke damage on the remaining two buildings beside it. He noticed that both were still housing residents. He watched a cat slink inside an open window of a dimly lit room, heard one of the residents dump some wash water to the alleyway. All of it struck him as odd. It appeared Hattie’s building had sustained most of the damage, and it was enough damage to make the whole building uninhabitable. Yet the other buildings appeared to only have minor damage. Hurrying up to the entrance, he checked his watch and noted the time. Taking out his notepad, he skimmed his notes quickly, refreshing his memory and reinvigorating his focus. He climbed the few steps to the main entrance and gently pushed what was left of the front door open. The main hall didn’t appear to be too damaged by the fire, and he took a few steps inside, noting that the upper floor had been torn open by the firemen. Gotta watch your step up there, he thought as he saw the floor above through holes in the ceiling. He took out his flashlight and flicked it on, checking the apartment to his left first, before making his way slowly up the steps. He looked between the two doors on the top landing before going through the door on his right, per Miss Hattie’s instructions. He frowned while looking over the damage. It was quite bad, like a matchbox he remembered her saying -- and it certainly looked it.

Everywhere he looked was burned, the skeletons of her furniture scattered around the apartment, with every inch blackened by either smoke or fire. Moving further in, he kept his eyes to the floor, hopping over the weak spots as he picked his way to one of the back rooms. He reached a doorway and looked inside, searching the small room with his torch until he finally spotted the hole in the wall Miss Hattie had mentioned. He stepped over to it, avoiding another hole in the flooring, and bent down to check inside the wall.

Suddenly, a floorboard creaked in another room. He could hear what sounded like footsteps behind him. He frowned and turned his flashlight toward the door, bathing the hall in light.

He listened, hearing only the tapping of the rain water throughout the building.

Continue reading: 

Ep 2  *  Ep 3  *  Ep 4  *  Ep 5  *  Ep 6  *  Ep 7

[jessbakescakes]

random prompt: donna’s niece/nephew has to stay with her for some reason and josh drops by her apartment randomly so they all end up spending the day together :) thanks!

This took me an age and a half, but here it is. Let’s call this sometime post-snowballs, pre-finale Season 4 Josh/Donna. Also, it got ridiculously long and I have no idea why, but... yay?

Josh tries to be productive on his first Sunday off in recent memory. He gets a few things done around the house, and then he finds himself feeling bored. That feeling is rare; he hasn’t been this bored since he was recovering from his injuries after Rosslyn. There’s no shortage of things to do in the office, but Leo has banned him (and Donna) from the property for the day after a 38-hour shift. Soon the feelings of boredom propel him out of his apartment, and he finds himself standing outside of Donna’s place about fifteen minutes later without a plan. There’s a part of him that wonders if she’d even want to hang out with him on her day off, but all the other people he would invite are at work. 

So, Josh knocks at the door. 

They could always go to the movies; Donna’s been mentioning a new movie she’s been wanting to see. The thought of the two of them sitting in the back of a darkened movie theater while she gets invested in some sappy chick flick isn’t exactly his idea of fun, though, so his mind wanders to other possibilities. 

The plan is almost formulated in his head when she opens the door, but it all goes out the window when he notices a little girl run toward the door and wrap herself around Donna’s legs. “I can’t come into work today,” Donna insists.

“Hi, Josh, it’s so great to see you,” Josh says in his sarcastic ‘imitating Donna’ tone.

She sighs. “Hi, Josh. You shouldn’t be going into work, either.”

“I wasn’t gonna ask you to come in today. Who’s this?” he asks, glancing back and forth between Donna and the little girl, who looks like a miniature version of Donna, but with brown hair instead of blonde.

“This is my niece, Caitlin.”

“Francesca’s daughter?” Josh confirms, ensuring that his memory of Donna’s conversations about her nieces and nephews was correct. He vaguely remembers Donna telling him something about a political argument that her sister Francesca got into with another parent while she was chaperoning a trip for Caitlin’s kindergarten class a few weeks ago.

Donna nods. “She had a last-minute meeting with a client she’s trying to land for the D.C. branch of her company. So Caitlin and I get to spend the day together. Caitlin, this is my friend Josh.”

Caitlin gives Josh a toothless grin and a giggle. “Hi.”

“Hey, Caitlin,” Josh says to Caitlin, giving her a wave. He turns his attention to Donna. “I was thinking about how I owed you a new shirt after the coffee catastrophe. Figured I’d come by and ask if you’d like to collect on that today. But...”

“Well, you can help me babysit, and we’ll call it even,” she says, motioning for Josh to come into her apartment.

“Your sister won’t mind?” Josh asks, crossing the threshold and taking off his coat.

“She’s met you,” Donna reasons. “You work for the President of the United States. I think you’ll pass muster. And besides, I’m here for when you inevitably screw up.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he sighs. 

He looks toward Caitlin, who has abandoned Donna in favor of what she’s working on at the coffee table. There are art supplies everywhere; markers are scattered across the table (and a few have rolled onto the floor), a pair of child-sized safety scissors sits on the corner next to some tape, and tubes of glittery glue in several different colors are gathered in a pile in the middle. “What’s your favorite color, Josh?” she calls, without lifting her gaze from her project.

“Uh… blue, I guess,” Josh answers, approaching the couch and taking a seat.

Caitlin reaches for a blue sheet of construction paper and begins to cut an unrecognizable shape into it. She pauses after a moment, then lifts the paper and wraps it around Josh’s wrist, attempting to ensure that the piece she has cut is big enough. “I’m making a superhero bracelet,” she declares, making a face when she realizes it’s too big. “You can shoot stuff out of it and get the bad guys.”

Josh glances toward Donna, suddenly conveniently busy in the kitchen, and then back at Caitlin. “Sounds… interesting.”

He’s never been bad with kids. In fact, kids seem to like him, as a general rule. He’s just never been entirely sure what to do to replicate that experience from one kid to the next. This is Donna’s niece, so there’s a little extra pressure to seem impressive and interesting.

Donna is a natural with kids, at least from Josh’s perspective. Working in the White House doesn’t really give them a lot of opportunities to spend time with kids, of course, but the few times he’s seen her interact with them, it seems to come easily to her. They’re drawn to her in an inexplicable way.

Caitlin returns to her work. “This can be your bracelet. I made Aunt Donna a crown. Wait! Do you want a crown or a bracelet? Boys can wear crowns, too. They can be princes.”

“I’ll take the bracelet,” Josh says, motioning to the mangled piece of paper she has in her hands. “Did you say you made Aunt Donna a crown?”

He says the last part loud enough for Donna to hear in the kitchen, so Donna looks up at him and shrugs. “I’m a princess, apparently.”

“Don’t you think you should be wearing it?” Josh teases.

“It’s drying,” Donna says, motioning behind her to the counter, where she’s placed a crown made of pink construction paper covered in glitter.

Josh darts into the kitchen and gingerly lifts the crown, poking at various spots with his index finger. “Hmm, seems dry to me. What do you think, Caitlin, should she wear it?”

“Yeah!” Caitlin agrees enthusiastically. 

“You want to come in here and put it on her?” Josh offers, holding out the crown.

Caitlin shakes her head. “You do it.”

Donna slides a finished grilled cheese sandwich onto a plate and turns around. “Don’t you dare squish it on my head,” she warns under her breath, her arms crossed. “If you get any glitter in my hair…”

“Donnatella, this isn’t my first coronation,” Josh huffs.

She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling at him. “Where was your last one, Burger King?” 

“Medieval Times, actually,” he says, gently securing the crown on Donna’s head. “There.”

Donna reaches up and pats her head. “He didn’t give me a bump in my hair, did he?” she asks, turning around to allow Caitlin to check.

“Nope,” Caitlin confirms, approaching Josh with his superhero bracelet and about a dozen long pieces of Scotch tape. She attaches it to his wrist and steps back to admire her handiwork. “Now you both have something!”

“We certainly do. Come wash your hands and we can have some lunch,” Donna instructs.

Caitlin, Josh, and Donna chat over grilled cheese and tomato soup. When they finish, Donna clears the table while Caitlin pulls Josh into the living room to clean up the crafting supplies. Caitlin is entertaining to talk to, as far as six-year-olds go. Of course, she’s not about to debate the intricacies of domestic policy with him, but she asks questions about the President - she seems primarily interested in the idea of him being funny. Caitlin also wants to know if the President has a dog (she seems disappointed when Josh tells her he doesn’t) and if he intends to get a dog (she seems even more disappointed when she hears this answer). 

Soon there’s a lull in the conversation. Caitlin seems to be focused and hard at work, slowly gathering the art supplies to clean up. 

“Your Aunt Donna told me that you went to the aquarium a couple of weeks ago,” Josh says tentatively, unsure of what topics are interesting for six-year-olds, but making an effort anyway. 

“I got to pet a stingray. You do it like this,” Caitlin explains, holding up her index and middle fingers together and sweeping them in the air.

“Oh, yeah? That must have been cool. What did it feel like?”

“He was kinda slimy. But there was an otter that was swimming up near the spot where I was standing at the otter place,” Caitlin says, shoving some markers into their box. “I love otters.”

“Oh, really? Otters are nice. What do you like about otters?”

“Otters… the otters hold hands while they’re sleeping so they don’t float away,” Caitlin explains as she clears the last of the paper off of the table. “Then they would be sad and all by themselves.”

“That’s smart of them,” Josh answers. “Don’t want them to be lonely.”

Josh discovers that Caitlin knows a lot about otters. She explains that she checked out several books from the library about otters after her trip to the aquarium, and has done some extensive internet research. By the time the living room is clean, Josh has been informed that otters have the thickest fur of all mammals in the animal kingdom, and baby otters are not able to swim on their own. 

Caitlin is about to explain the ins and outs of keeping a baby otter safe and secure while its mother goes out hunting when Donna enters the living room with a bowl of water in one hand and a Ziploc bag in the other. “What are we up to in here?”

“Otter discourse,” Josh says, stacking the newly collected art supplies in a pile. 

“They hold hands,” Donna says with a knowing nod, as though she’s heard this piece of trivia before. “Okay, Caitlin, you wanted to look through my stash of tattoos, right?”

Caitlin nods and takes the bag from Donna’s hand. She dumps out the bag and looks through the temporary tattoos that Donna has acquired. There are flowers, hearts, butterflies, and various animals and characters to choose from. Caitlin flips over each tattoo, grouping them by color as she deliberates. 

Josh looks to Donna. “Does this sort of freakish organizational skill run in the family?”

Donna pokes him in the arm and Josh yelps, rubbing the spot as Donna moves to expedite the process by flipping over the tattoos. 

Caitlin finally selects several different tattoos, sliding one in front of Donna and another in front of Josh. “Those are for you,” she says.

Josh shoots Donna a look, but Donna rolls up her sleeves. “Where should I put mine? On my hand, or on my arm?”

“Hmm,” Caitlin says. “Your hand.”

“Do you need help with yours?” Donna asks. 

Caitlin nods. “The last time Mommy and I did these, mine got all messed up ‘cause I pulled it off too fast.”

“Oh, well we can’t have that,” Donna insists, dipping a washcloth in the bowl of water. “Josh, start thinking about where you want your tattoo.”

“I think he should do it right here,” Caitlin says, tapping the inside of her forearm.

“You think so?” Donna asks. 

“You have to do it on this arm though,” Caitlin says, grabbing Josh’s left hand. “That one has your superhero bracelet.”

Josh sighs. “Do I get a say in this at all?”

“No,” Donna insists, turning his arm over so his palm is facing upward. She grabs his left hand in hers and pushes up the sleeve of his sweater with her right hand.

“You’re holding his hand. Kind of like the otters,” Caitlin points out.

Josh is certain that what Donna was doing was entirely platonic, operating on instinct under the watchful eyes of an observant kindergartener. But he wonders if she can feel his pulse hammering the same way it did outside her apartment in the snow a few weeks prior. 

“Well, we wouldn’t want him to float away, would we?” Donna teases before letting his hand go and removing the plastic cover of a purple butterfly tattoo.

Caitlin approaches them and supervises as Donna applies the temporary tattoo, impatiently waiting for the reveal. Donna is about halfway through peeling the paper backing away when Francesca walks in the door. 

“Mommy!” Caitlin shouts, launching herself at Francesca.

“Looks like I’m interrupting the makeover portion of the afternoon,” Francesca says. “Hey, Josh, it’s good to see you.”

“Hey, Francesca,” he says. “It’s good to see you too. I didn’t know you were coming to D.C. this weekend, or I’d have given Donna a chance to spend some time with you.”

Francesca waves her hand. “It wasn’t planned. I had a thing come up, and I was going to leave both the kids with Chris, but Caitlin heard me mention D.C. and all bets were off when she remembered that’s where Aunt Donna lived.”

“I made Josh a superhero bracelet,” Caitlin says. “And Aunt Donna has a crown.”

“I see that,” Francesca smiles. “Why don’t you and I head back to the hotel for a little bit? I’ll take you swimming at the hotel pool before dinner if you want.”

Caitlin darts across the apartment, gathering all of the things she brought over earlier in the day. “Can Josh eat dinner with us?”

Francesca grabs Caitlin’s pink backpack that’s sitting by the door and turns to Josh. “You’re welcome to join us, I was taking Donna out to dinner as a thank you for spending some time with Caitlin while I was in that meeting.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I’ll let the three of you spend some time together,” he says.

“Next time,” Francesca says. “Caitlin, what do you say to Aunt Donna and Josh?”

“Thank you!” she says, nearly knocking Donna over with a hug and climbing onto the couch to give Josh a hug with equal enthusiasm.

“Thank you again. Both of you. Six-thirty?” Francesca asks Donna.

Donna nods. “Perfect. You don’t have to run off, though, I don’t mind --”

“No, no, I know,” Francesca interrupts. “It’s totally fine. We’ll see you at dinner.”

Francesca helps Caitlin get her coat on and Donna sees them out. As Donna says goodbye and Caitlin and Francesca leave the apartment, Josh can hear Caitlin chatting to her mom.

“Aunt Donna was holding Josh’s hand, like the otters.”

Donna shuts the door and turns to look at Josh. Her cheeks turn pink and her eyes dart to the floor. “She really likes otters.”

“I gathered that.”

“Probably should have warned you about that.”

Josh laughs. “You could have warned me that I’d be peeling pieces of tape off my arms, too, but you just threw me to the wolves.”

“Hey, now. You survived!”

His forearm is still stretched out as the temporary tattoo dries and becomes less sticky and more prickly-feeling. “I also wasn’t exactly planning on getting a tattoo today. Or… probably ever.”

“Not a tattoo guy, huh?”

“Why, are you a tattoo girl?” Josh pushes his sleeve down over his forearm.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Donna says, a hint of teasing in her voice. 

Josh stands up from the couch. “Want me to, uh…” he gestures around the living room, not sure where to dive in to help clean up.

“I think I can manage,” Donna says. “Thanks for today. Caitlin had fun.”

“Yeah. It’s no problem. Just remember that next time when Aunt Donna isn’t the favorite anymore and she goes on and on about how great Josh was,” Josh teases.

Donna crosses her arms and lets out a laugh. “Like that would ever happen.”

“You underestimated me before,” Josh points out. “You’ll see how popular I am when Caitlin asks you about me at dinner tonight.”

“And you think if she did, I would actually tell you about it?” 

“I know when you’re lying, Donna. Your mouth does this weird thing.”

“A weird thing?”

“I don’t know how to explain it, but I know it when I see it,” Josh insists, putting on his coat. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Donna says, opening the front door for him.

Josh stands there for a moment before he leaves, looking at Donna. The pink crown is still on her head, and her shirt has spots of pink glitter on it, presumably from aiding in the decoration of the aforementioned crown. For the briefest of moments, he wonders if this can’t be their future - if it can’t be their kid who tapes a superhero bracelet around his wrist with too many pieces of tape or insists on giving him a butterfly tattoo.

He pushes the thought out of his mind until later in the shower when he attempts to scrub the tattoo off his arm. He’s had more moments like this since he took a cab to throw snowballs at her window -- or more accurately, ever since Commander Wonderful and his thirteen buttons showed up. The images, oddly domestic compared to most of his fantasies, play on a loop in his brain.

He knows he can’t indulge them, can’t enjoy these fantasies. She’s his assistant; he’s her boss. They’re friends, and that’s all they can be for another four years. Of course, that’s assuming that some gomer doesn’t sweep her off her feet and give her what Josh can’t, at least not yet. But he doesn’t know how to stop them, and they’re coming with more frequency than the nightmares he’s grown accustomed to having.

The idea that she could have all this with someone else is more terrifying than the nightmares.

[blackswaneuroparedux]

No “wine-ing”: a season of ice and fire

A lot of you dropped very kind messages about my well being and I’m happy to say that my recovery from Covid is firmly on track and I’m close to full strength again. My exhaustion and tiredness has thankfully been ebbing away. I’m back running my daily 5 km before I start my work day and cycling to get back to full fitness.

So I managed to escape Paris before the travel lockdown and curfew was imposed before April 26. I’m  a country girl at heart and I’ve always felt a little uncomfortable in big cities. I love Paris but I also get tired of it quite easily. So I headed to the chateau vineyard where I thought I could complete my recovery from my Covid illness and work remotely (the work never stops) without too many distractions. 

Unfortunately - or fortunately as I prefer to see it - I was mud deep in trying to rescue our wine harvest for 2021 as frost struck over a few nights that left us reeling, and left much of the country’s wine growing region devastated. No region of France was spared as French wine producers fought valiantly over several nights to stop the frost from letting the buds finally come out to sprout. Wine makers fought with everything they could think of, and in the end resorted to fire to keep the temperature warm enough for the vines to survive the cold snap. It was a spectacular sight all across the horizons of many French wine growing regions including ours.

I’m just thankful to be there at the right place and the right time to help out.

I enjoy coming down to our chateau vineyard as it’s a welcome contrast to the busy city life of Paris. I just couldn’t wait to get dressed up (or dress down?) in tatty old clothing, rolling up my sleeves, and getting my hands dirty with any physical chores to do around the vineyard. I always have this urge to make myself useful instead being stuck behind a desk, bored to death in Zoom call meetings. I was looking forward to running and cycling in the open country air to bust a gut or two.

Mostly though I was looking forward to enjoying home cooked country food, be in the fun company of my two Anglo-Norwegian cousins and their French families, and together we’d be preening over the first shoots of the forthcoming wine harvest for 2021.

It is always an emotional moment at this time of year when we see in the vineyards the glistening tears of the vines (‘les pleurs’) that tell us that the new vintage is underway. As the temperatures rise so does the sap in the vines and where the pruners have trimmed the end of the branch, we see this beautiful sight that reassures us  – telling us whatever happens, nature continues. The baby buds are beginning to come out timidly but soon the stark branches of the vines will be green again as these fragile leaves unfurl in the spring sunlight.

Back in 2020 many vintners (winemakers), not just in our region but across the whole of France, were unsure what 2021 would bring. Would 2021 be a challenging vintage or an easy one full of sunshine? With the growing season starting so early, the first hurdle - and one of the most crucial -  is the fear of late frost. It seems to be more and more of a problem in recent years, this late frost burying any new growth like a fast moving avalanche. For many vintners they have 2017 written into their hearts in painful tears when frost devastated any hope for a healthy harvest and for some even brought financial ruin.

For me - at the time - it was a rude introduction to the vicissitudes of the wine making business by two wine loving cousins co-owning and co-managing an old family owned French vineyard.  Family fortunes rise and fall according to the harvest. All the blood, tears, and sweat poured into running an efficient high yielding grape vineyard comes to naught when you realise that you are not the master, nature is.

The risk of frost has increased in recent years due to global warming, which does not just warm but makes the climate more erratic and temperatures more extreme. Good news for the moderately temperate climate for our wine making region where hotter drier summers have produced a string of good recent vintages (2015, 2016, 2018, 2020). But the negative side of this is that frosts have become more common right up until the end of the usual cycle – last year it was on 6th May.

Except this year, 2021, now looked like 2017 because of the devastation of continued frost on the vines. In talking to the French family of my cousin’s French wife, who have faithfully made wine for a few generations they ruefully pointed out past bad frosts. Apparently 1956 was legendary with a very cold winter frost some minus 20 °C following a warm period when the sap rose from the roots into the vine foot and branches. It killed the vines. The last disastrous late spring frost before 2017 was 1991. It seems to be striking significantly every two years now and a every year to a degree. Who would have expected the devastation again this year, 2021 some forty years on.

This year, particularly around April 7th and 8th, brought despair to vignerons right across France from Champagne to Cognac, Burgundy to Bordeaux as thousands of vineyards’ new growth was obliterated by frost (resulting in zero yield for harvest 2021). There may be some new growth and some secondary budding but this is a repeat of 2017 (if not worse) and few were able to harvest any grapes worth speaking of.

My cousins had been in contact with friends and other peers who are wine makers in other regions (friendships are built at trade shows overseas and other association events) and in totality the picture appeared bleaker than previous years. The scourge of frost had been catastrophic. Around half of the vines in Burgundy have been damaged, according to local producers. Some vineyard owning friends in the Inter Rhône region told us that the whole of the Rhône has been hit dramatically and that some plots are affected 100%.

According to the CNIV, the official French council for wine appellation, the frost has affected 80% of French vineyards. We already know that we will have a very low harvest in 2021. Nearly all French wine growers have just suffered a dark week in April.

It’s not just wine growers but fruit farmers too. It’s been like winter coming in spring. Below-freezing temperatures in the Drome and Ardèche regions of central southern France have led to fruit farmers losing up to 90 percent of their kiwi, apricot, apple, and peach harvest. Even in Bordeaux the severity of the frost damaged the growth on fruit trees such as apricots, peaches and nectarines, and field-crops such as rapeseed and sugar beet.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. How does one protect the vines from frost?

There have been a variety of ways vineyard owners have been dealing with the problem of frost. There’s no one size fits all and the solutions are often handicapped by the size of one’s vineyards, financial resources, and manpower.

Two solutions in fighting frost have been aeolian wind turbines and air fans. It takes the warmer air from higher up, and pushes it to the ground. These machines can raise temperatures by up to 2C. The problem is that some of these wind turbines and air fans are permanently set so they can only be set in one direction whilst others one can wheel around to move the air and stop frost settling. Both are very expensive solutions and the cost may outweigh the gain.

Air heaters are another solution. No less expensive though. One of our vineyard owning neighbours wanted to use paraffin fuelled heaters. But he said he would have needed 4,500 paraffin-fuelled heaters to cover all his 15 hectares at a cost of nearly €50,000 for the two worst nights, and even then growers it would protect only the vines for his finest wines.

Some of the vineyards also launched helicopters to fly above their vineyards, a method that can help to prevent frost by encouraging warm air to circulate. In effect they push the cold air around so that it does not sink down to the ground causing its damage.  I was all for this solution as I’m an ex-army helicopter combat pilot and so I felt my old training could be put to use in civilian helicopters. But we ruled this out once we did the maths. At  about 1600€-2000€ per hour one can only fly from 6am but this is the coldest time when the sun comes up. At best the helicopter’s range of effectiveness was a mere 10 hectares. So you don’t get more bang for your buck. But that didn’t stop some vineyards that we knew doing exactly that. These were corporate owned vineyards who tend to be well heeled and can afford to spare no expense.

There are less expensive solutions but are more costly in terms of manpower.

Some vineyards used water sprinklers, allowing a fine coating hitting sub-zero temperatures as the ice acts like a mini-igloo and protect it from outside colder temperatures.

Conversely, vineyard owners hit upon another relatively low cost solution of using candles. They usually last 12 hours and so in effect can be used for the two crucial nights of severe frost. We calculated that at 10€ a candle you would need 300 for one hectare alone. Of course the chief problem is that they need to be lit by hand and hope the wind was kind.

For the biodynamic wine producers they fell back on organic solutions. They sprayed their vines with a spray composed of pectins from apples which is supposed to lower the temperature around the vines. More common and perhaps more effective was spraying vines with Valerian  to give the vines some added fortification to survive themselves.

By far the most common response by vineyard owners to combat the frost was to burn fires by burning hay bales amongst the vines. The smoke causes a blanket which heats up the atmosphere. In the old days I was told they actually burned rubber tyres! For it to have any chance of being effective you have to be aware of wine direction and make sure the bales are in the right places. It also helps if your neighbours do the same.

Speaking for our chateau vineyard, we had to make tough decisions to see how our chateau vineyard could combat the frost and minimise the damage to the future harvest. Although I own a small financial investment stake in the vineyard I have always deferred to my two cousins who actually run the vineyard with their married partners on a day to day basis. It’s their life long passion and I’m happy to play a small part in getting my hands (literally) dirty in building something from the soil up and for purely selfish reasons, just love being so close to nature itself. The fact that the French family of one my cousin’s wife - they actually owned the land and were reputable wine makers for generations  - added invaluable weight to the wisdom of any decision making we had to do.

We sat around the kitchen table and talked through our options whilst nursing a glass of wine from a past vintage.  My cousins and their kids especially thought I was a weirdo - they’re probably right! It’s not that I enjoy it (the mud, sweat and lack of sleep etc) but it was the challenge that really got me energised. If it’s a forlorn battle against the odds that’s when I really come alive. So I was quite jolly and full of vim whilst those around me were bleary eyed and groaning for bed and a hot shower as we were out in the fields in the dead of night. We ran it like a military operation - thanks to me ha! - I put everyone on detail and even the small kids saluted and got to work on their task. We made sure we had hot soup and beers constantly on tap for our staff and workers to take a food break and take a breather. Not that they needed motivating. Every one of our staff and also volunteers worked bravely to limit the damage.

So in the end we fell upon a series of actions which indeed many of our immediate wine making neighbours also followed suit. We sprayed, we watered, we burned. We tried everything to save our vines from further damage from frost.

We concocted an organic solution that had thyme, oregano, and wild sariette to which we added valerian and meadowsweet and a dash of yarrow and horsetail as well as honey; all of which help the whole organic solution to work. In effect this helps the vine to prepare for ice, by changing the composition of the sap a little, by enriching it with sugar. The infusion is then sprayed onto the vines at least 24 hours before the first freeze is forecast. The solution only works if the temperatures stay just below freezing but no lower, at around -2C or -1C maximum. With this solution on the plants, we could increase temperatures by 1-2 degrees. If it drops even lower, to around -5C, as we had in 2019, it’s not enough. It might save some plants, but not all.

We soon followed with watering the vines using our irrigation system we had on hand. It was labouriously time consuming.

When it was clear that this wasn’t going to work out because of the severe temperature drop we fell on fire as the saving solution.

It was all hands on deck as we also roped in some volunteers to help us start small controlled fires amongst our vines. We burned straw bales and piles of wood in very large jerry cans to save what we could. The aim was to create a blanket of smoke so that when the sun came up it didn't burn the vines because of the humidity. One vineyard neighbour of ours actually used a flame thrower and lit more than 700 small fires but had to start all over again because the fires didn’t last one night.

This was our experience too. We had a lot of hectares to cover and so little man power and so we just worked around the clock until we were able to light fires and keep an eye on them should they go out. We ran between the selected vines to make sure the fires remained lit throughout the night starting around 2am to 6am. I don’t think any of us had more than a few hours sleep over a crucial 48 hour window. We took turns to cook for everyone and made sure everyone was well fed on home cooking as well as hot showers and adequately winter clothed. I’m used to being sweaty and getting by on little sleep from my army days but it’s a measure of how far I’ve succumbed to civilian life that even I found it a little hard going.

I’m not very good at lighting fires as I tend to over compensate on the fuel lighter and I feared that I would burn the whole vineyard down by trying to start a small controlled fire. I got singed here and there but nothing to complain about. Others were just marvellous in their work ethic and shared bonhomie as we tried to save our vineyard. One person on our staff did get singed with flames and in his case we rushed him to hospital with minor third degree burns. We all felt like roasted chestnuts standing between the small fires. But what a spectacular sight the landscape was with all these lighted fires. This wasn’t just our vineyard but all across the landscape of neighbouring vineyards. It looked as if the whole region was on fire. It was quite hypnotising to  look at. As to its effects, it’s harder to discern. I do know that even cities of Lyon and Bordeaux had a layer of smog that was visible to others from far away.

Looking back it was both exhausting and exhilarating to experience such a time. It’s the kind of rite of passage that either breaks you or makes you. For us it certainly brought us all together more tightly than before. With our neighbours too there was a collective sense of togetherness and rather than act selfishly or just worry about our own fortunes, neighbours lent a hand towards each other in terms of equipment, expertise, or voluntary labour.

Perhaps the more wealthy chateau vineyards’ expensive techniques were able to save their best vineyards but most who could afford creating smoke blankets from burning hay bales – they were no match for the frost with temperatures down to minus 5 in some areas. Hopefully insurance had been taken out, which involves a substantial expenditure each year. We are fortunate to have insurance and the damage done to our vineyard has been mitigated to some extent. But I do know for instance that many are not insured against the effects of frost because of the cost of the coverage and many French wine producers were already struggling financially.

It was reported that many chateau vineyards in lesser known areas (Castillon, Bourg, Blaye, Côtes de Franc, Graves, Satellites of St Emilion) who could not afford these payments and who played ‘Russian roulette’, this year lost for perhaps for the last time. For them it’s personally heart breaking. For French wine making it’s a cultural tragedy. It’s hard enough for small independent vineyards (often run by families or young couples with a dream) to survive - the economies of scale as well as being aggressively overshadowed by the high volume output and superior marketing power of wealthy corporate owned vineyards - but never really expected nature, or vicissitudes of global warming, to make it that much more harder to make wine.

Unlike Bordeaux, Burgundy, the Rhone valley, in the Champagne region, we heard that not many Champagne wine producers didn’t even bother fighting the frost because they thought it would have done little good. One of the reasons why so few people engaged in frost protection in Champagne is these wine makers have as their biggest buffer against frost is their Individual Reserve (RI). In case appellation requirements are not met in the vineyard, they can draw from it.

Indeed with sales still stagnating and small yield expectations, growers may have to dip in the RI because frost season is not over till after the Saintes Glaces, a period in the middle of May after which frost generally doesn't appear. But not every vineyard can do that.

To their credit, perhaps recognising the commercial and cultural role French wine has in daily life and international prestige, the French government had agreed to step in to help. President Emmanuel Macron tweeted a picture of a candle-lit vineyard and promised that help was on the way, “À vous, agriculteurs qui, partout en France, avez lutté sans relâche, nuit après nuit, pour protéger les fruits de votre travail, je veux vous dire notre soutien plein et entier dans ce combat. Tenez bon ! Nous sommes à vos côtés et le resterons.” (“To you, farmers who, throughout France, have fought tirelessly, night after night, to protect the fruits of your labour, I want to give you our full support in this fight. Hold on tight! We are by your side and will remain so." )

To that end President Macron has declared an "agricultural disaster" and Prime Minister Jean Castex has promised that the government will provide emergency relief to those who were affected. He has also removed the limit on the amount of financial compensation that can be provided. It said it would help the smaller independent vineyards and co-operatives  with tax breaks as well as pushing banks and insurance companies to help out. It’s unclear if any of this will come to pass or indeed what effect it might have in the short and long term. We shall see.

It’s been estimated that at least a third of French wine production worth nearly € 2 billion (£ 1.7 billion) in sales will be lost this year. It's another blow for France's wine industry whatever assistance is given. The French wine industry has already been dealing with the knock-on effects of the Covid pandemic, with decreases in restaurant orders due to the country's series of lockdowns. Independent producers have been hit hard by the cancellation of wine fairs due to Covid. Then there have been the effects of the tariffs that former President Donald Trump imposed as a result of assorted disputes between the administration and the European Union. In late 2019, Trump hit French wine with a retaliatory 25% import duty, a cost increase that the Economist says contributed to a 14% drop in French wine exports in 2020. Last month in March, the United States and the EU announced a four-month suspension of the tariffs.

But that doesn't necessarily help winegrowers right now - especially since a significant percentage of this year's crop may already be lost. Tradition has it that it is well into May before vine growers can sleep easy without worrying about the risk of further frost damage.

Even though we did our best to save our vines we couldn’t save all of them and even had decide which ones to forgo even trying because we lacked manpower and resources at such short notice. I heard someone amongst ourselves say losing the vines that one has cultivated so lovingly was like the loss of a family member. It may seem puerile, but that is close to what many feel. Perhaps only winegrowers can understand this sentiment, but they have found themselves out in the vines in the morning with tears in their eyes. I’m not one for sentiment and displays of emotion but even I was a little moved to see the heart break in tear filled eyes of some of the older generation who have for decades given their sweat and tears to tilling the soil. We did our best to console one another and remarkably in that crucible we experienced together we all became closer.

What is clear is the tradition of wine - beyond national politics and international trade disputes - is under long term threat from something much more existential. There is a saying amongst the older generation of wine makers in our fertile wine making region who say, ‘wine history is climate history’. Wine making is about the vines, the ‘terroir’ (a French way of saying the earth or the soil), but also the climate. Nature is very much the master and wine makers are but humble servants of the soil. For those who don’t believe in climate change or think it’s overly dramatised by scientists or worse, a hoax, then I would say wake up and smell the coffee. Climate change is real as any wine producer or arable farmer will tell you. Wine can make you do or say many things, but it won’t ever make you tell a wilful lie.

The French wife of my cousin, whose family the vineyard had been for several generations, told us that the wine harvest time used to span her grandfather’s birthday - September 28 - but now, the bustle of harvest is over and cleaned up in time for his birthday party - that’s two to three weeks earlier than when her grandfather used to make the wine. As she memorably put it, things are  “bien cramées” (really screwed up).

All of this means that wine producers will have to change their ways as the climate changes. All the measures taken to combat frost were in reality delaying tactics to fight a losing battle with the climate. The wine industry, not just in France but around the world, needs to evolve if it is to face up to increasing climate challenges. This might include planting more weather-resistant vines that flower later, and are therefore less vulnerable to late frosts and cold snaps.

Wine, in France, is built into the fabric of the culture. The many variety of grapes across the wine growing regions indigenously grow and adapt to the precise climate conditions of the region for centuries. Winemakers know the growth stages intimately: the look of the vines before they bud; the look of the vines as they mature over long seasons; and the fat, sugary, fragrant curve of the grapes when they’re ready to be made into wine.

That harvest point is crucial. Too long on the vine and the grapes have too much sugar in them, meaning the wine will be more alcoholic—not the subtle feel most winemakers in the region care for. Too long, and the acids that give wine some of its feel in the mouth may disintegrate. Not long enough, and they might not have developed the right balance of fragrant chemicals that give the wine its characteristic flavours.

Winemakers keep careful track of harvest dates, with some regions have records stretching back to the Middle Ages. In the 1800s, scientists and historians realised that those careful records could be used to keep track of how the climate in different parts of Europe has changed over time.

Grape harvest date records are the longest records of phenology in Europe. There are hundreds of years of records of what the summer temp was like, and we can use them like a thermometer.

Grape harvest dates reflect the temperature the grapes have felt over the course of the growing season, from about April until they’re picked. If the spring and summer are hot, the grapes mature faster and need to be picked sooner. If they're cool, the opposite is true.

Climate historians started to pull together ancient information from other sources, too. They matched up the patterns in the grape harvest data with records made from tree rings and the length of glaciers in the Alps. They used records like those to figure out that much of central Europe warmed up during the Medieval Warm Period, from around 900 to 1300. It had cooled down during the Little Ice Age, from about the 15th to the 19th centuries.

The historians saw that over the past few hundred years, temperatures wobbled around, skewing warm for short stretches and cooling down in others. But overall, climate rocked up and down around a fairly consistent average value - until recently.

Wine is first and foremost an agricultural product. The grapes used to make it are grown and harvested with intent to be fermented. This means that wine production is vulnerable to the effects of climate change from the tangible health of vines to the taste and quality of the finished bottling they create. So for this reason, all winemakers see themselves as being on the front line to see what happens with the weather, with the climate. The fluctuations we have today are more significant than any time before.

If you don’t believe any of this or think wine producers are exaggerating the dangers, then taste your wine the next time you open a bottle. The chances are it has a high alcohol content. This is no accident. Because of the changes in temperature world wide, the alcohol content of wines has bumped up from about 12% in the 1970s to about 14% today. Of course that number varies from region to region and is also due to the wine maker’s preference. But a large part of it is because grapes are maturing faster in the heat. The more sugar they accumulate, the more of it is converted to alcohol during the winemaking process.

Warming has also caused the boundaries of viable growing area to swell. Typically, successful vineyards have been found between 30 and 50 degrees latitude. But as global average temperatures continue to climb, the most ideal areas to plant are moving farther from the equator. Now, areas as far up as the island of Föhr and Stargarder Land in Mecklenburg, at the tip-top of Germany, are legally permitted to produce table wines. Belgium, whose vinous history has been overshadowed by its beer culture, quadrupled production between 2006 and 2018; it’s forecasted to become a champion, alongside Finland, Sweden and other boreal climes. Shockingly, even England has also successfully entered the modern fine wine scene.

With better wine from regions we know and new wine from previously uncharted areas, it may appear the wine world is becoming better off. In truth, however, this is a thin silver lining to ever-worsening viticultural challenges.

If the growing season becomes too hot, fruit will push through its life cycle too quickly and characteristics like tannins and anthocyanins, the compounds responsible for giving grape skins their colour, won’t develop properly. Muted acid and increased alcohol levels are also possible and often undesirable.

Variations between daytime and nighttime temperatures are in jeopardy as well. In warmer growing regions, that difference can be crucial to achieving freshness and encouraging certain flavour and aroma development.

Intense heat or too much direct sunlight can lead to dried fruit notes or create flabby and dull wines. Fruit that’s left too long on the vine can be damaged from sunburn or may simply shrivel. Vines may just shut down to protect themselves.

This is already happening in some places. Wine growers in northern Italy have already seen sunburnt crops with increasing frequency. The summer of 2019 in Southern Australia was the hottest since national records began in 1910, and it ushered in an 8% loss of white wine varieties, with Chardonnay dropping 12% to its lowest yield in the past five years. Growers in Priorat, Spain, reported devastating vine damage, scorched leaves and desiccated grapes when temperatures shot up to a record 107.6˚F.

Climate change is complicated, however, and, even though temperature is the most influential factor in overall growth and productivity of wine grapes, there’s more than rising mercury to think about.

Winter, and all of its prescriptions, is one of those other things. We typically talk about warming, yet, freezes during the winter or extreme frost in the spring don’t go away. They may become less frequent, but potentially more severe. A decrease in regular winter frosts may also encourage the spread of pests and insect-borne diseases that would normally die off during cold seasons.

Moisture is pivotal. Too much rain approaching or during harvest can lead to watery grapes and a weak vintage. Similar to mild winters, damp, soggy and humid conditions open the door to a variety of pests, fungi, mildew and disease pressures.

All of these intricacies and others work in conjunction with temperature to dictate what vines can successfully grow where and for how long—and all are increasingly unpredictable or totally upended in the face of climate change.

The people who grow, make and sell wine are tuned in to these nuances.

A greater number of producers are rethinking canopy management, vine trellising or pruning techniques, developing cover crops and extensive shading methods, increasing vineyard biodiversity and finding ways to reuse water.

Still, there are some challenges that cannot be overcome.

In the future, I expect growers to struggle with maintaining varieties in certain regions without major interventions. If they don’t make major changes, wine producers will see declining yields - already seen in Europe - and declining quality as the varieties become increasingly mismatched to the climate.

Producers have begun grafting new rootstocks and experimenting with different grapes. In South Africa, Vinpro, aided tests of drought-resistant varieties including Assyrtico and Marselan, for example. Australian producers have tried Italian grapes like Fiano, Vermentino and Nero d’Avola that thrive in warmer settings.

In Old World regions, where grapes and blends may be prescribed by law, the idea of swapping plantings is monumental.

Bordeaux is one such place, and, at a 2019 General Assembly meeting, it finally relented. The Union of Bordeaux AOC and Bordeaux Supérieur winemakers unanimously approved a list of seven “varieties of interest for adapting to climate change”: Arinarnoa, Castets, Marselan, Touriga Nacional, Alvarinho, Liliorila and Petit Manseng.

The approval of these new plantings signals just how committed the region is to preserving the future of fine wine.

Each of the various tactics being implemented worldwide take lots of time, tests and research. Some experienced wine producers think it would take about 21 years to change course because of how long it takes to plant vines, grow grapes, and then create and age a wine; finding sustainable farming practices for a plot takes trial and error.

Further, the methods being devised now may not be applicable down the road. Though there are several models in use to try and predict changes, they are attempting to track a nonlinear problem that’s dependent on a range of forthcoming scenarios.

Basically, the only thing we do know for certain is that it will get warmer, and that we may be able to anticipate that heat before it hits us.We have to be asking what we can do now to preserve the integrity of the grapes and vineyards we work with and look for where our opportunities are to continue making wine. The one line that works for everyone is to cut carbon emissions, that is the emergency action that needs to be taken. 

We’re all starting to see this and we’re all affected. We know we can’t turn it backwards, and we’re not even sure we can slow it down. But we have to try.

Think on all this the next time you take a sip of wine.

[teenwolffanclub-me]

Season 2, Episode 3: Ice Pick

Pairing: Stiles x Psychic!Reader

Notes: okay we finally have some ✨relationship development✨ and I hope you’re as excited as I am :-)

Tag list: @that-winged-rat @trustfundparker @rainbow-unicorn69 @good-vibes-and-glitter​ @x-give-em-hell-kid-x​ @prevostsasha​  @bobo-bush

                                                       ————————

“I’m telling you, it was like a-a big...lizard or something.”

I blinked slowly, trying to comprehend the words she was saying through the buzzing of the cafeteria. Allison’s eyes widened, as if only then realizing how crazy that sounded. She quickly diverted her attention to Scott, who sat beside her, and bumped her shoulder into his.

He cleared his throat, glancing around the table and squirming nervously in his chair. “Yeah, it was weird. I didn’t get a good look at it...”

“Well, what did you see?” Stiles huffed, shifting forward in his seat to lean over the table as if that would help him hear better.

The two of them had spent almost the entire lunch period trying to explain something they encountered in Isaac’s house the other night. They honestly weren’t making much sense, but they both seemed utterly freaked out, which wasn’t helping to calm my nerves.

“I-I don’t know.” Scott shook his head with a troubled furrow of his brows. “It was fast. Really fast. It walked on the ceiling, and it was...hissing at us.”

“So there’s yet another supernatural monster in Beacon Hills. Awesome.” I slouched back into my seat, a feeling of defeat washing over me. We’d barely just come out of our troubles with Peter and Kate. The last thing we needed was a new threat to deal with already. 

“I’m not sure it’s bad, though. It just ran away when I got upstairs.” Scott tried to reason, his overactive conscience striking again. He always tried to see the good in everyone. Even a lizard monster, apparently.

“Yeah right.” Allison scoffed, picking at the food she had yet to start eating. “Who knows what it would’ve done to me if you hadn’t stepped in.”

“Okay. First, we need to start by...” Stiles voice slowly trailed off as his attention locked onto something across the cafeteria.

His jaw went slack, his eyes widening in wonder. A frown pulled at my lips as I let my gaze sweep toward whatever had him so transfixed. Scott and Allison turned around in their seats to see for themselves as the entire room went silent.

There was a girl, only vaguely familiar, strutting confidently into the room. I quirked an eyebrow curiously as everyone craned their necks to watch her slow entrance. My eyes shifted to Scott, an amused chuckle bubbling in my chest as I saw that he had the same awestruck expression on his face. 

“Is that Erica?” Allison’s voice rose in surprise as she spun back around to face me, her eyes wide. 

“Didn’t she have a seizure in the middle of your gym class yesterday?” I recognized the name from this week’s rumor mill. With a closer look, I could tell that it was, in fact, Erica. Scott whipped around to glare at me and my brows rose in question. “What? It’s not like she can hear me.”

“I’m not too sure about that...” He muttered, his gaze sweeping back toward her as she grabbed an apple off a random guy’s tray and took a bite. 

She’d had a complete transformation overnight. The grey, sickly quality to her skin was gone, replaced by a healthy glow. Her dark circles had vanished and she walked with a self-assurance I’d never seen in her before. She usually did her best to remain unseen, ducking through the halls with her head down. Now, she was parading with an almost arrogant smirk on her face. 

“She’s with Derek now, isn’t she? Like Isaac?” Allison’s lips pulled into a frown as she easily put the pieces together. It was the only explanation for her extraordinary overnight changes. He must’ve turned her. 

Scott glanced at the tray of food in front of him, swallowing thickly as he avoided her prying gaze. I glanced toward Stiles, who just looked back at me with a sheepish shrug. 

“You can’t get caught in the middle of this.” Allison continued, her voice a quiet plea. “Don’t you feel what’s happening? My grandfather coming here? Derek turning Erica and Isaac? It-it’s like battle lines are being drawn.”

I chewed on my bottom lip as my eyes flickered between them. She was one hundred percent right, and it was terrifying. It was almost impossible to predict what her family was up to, since they don’t tell her anything and my visions are completely worthless. The one glaringly obvious thing, though, was that something big was coming. 

“I know.” Scott sighed, finally catching her gaze with a worried expression of his own. 

“There’s always crossfire...” Her eyes glistened as she looked up at him, silently pleading with him to take a step back. 

His jaw ticked a few times, his brows pinching as he looked down to the table again. “What am I supposed to do? I can’t just stand by. I can’t pretend to be normal.”

My lips pulled into a frown, unsure why he felt the need to interfere with every supernatural problem in Beacon Hills. For some reason, he felt personally responsible for making sure that nothing catastrophic happens around here. There were so many other people better equipped for the job. The Argents, who’ve trained for centuries to hunt anything that “hunts them” and Derek, who’s been a werewolf since birth, to name a few. 

“I don’t want you to be normal.” Allison huffed, seemingly offended that he’d assume that’s what she meant. 

She stood abruptly, taking her still full tray with her. She made it a single step before turning back with a sigh. Her eyes met Scott’s, wide and shining with so many intense emotions. It was clear that she was scared, and nervous, and even a little angry. She left just a few parting words before spinning on her heel and stalking away from us. 

“I want you to be alive.”

                                                        ———————

I let out a tired sigh, adjusting the strap of my bag on my shoulder as I walked down the hall. It was just after the dismissal bell, and I still needed to grab my chemistry book from my locker.

I’d nearly made it all the way outside, where Stiles was waiting to drive everyone to an ice skating rink—which he apparently got the keys to by paying off our classmate, Boyd, who works there—before realizing I’d forgotten it. The date had been Scott’s idea, because, and I quote, we all spend way too much time on supernatural bullshit and haven’t done anything fun in forever.

The halls were mostly empty, since the rational portion of my classmates always book it out of here the second the bell rings. All was normal until I passed by one of the janitors closets and the door sprang open unexpectedly. I staggered back in alarm, my entire body stiffening as a hand jutted out and clasped around my bicep. 

I was swiftly hauled inside, the door slamming the second I passed through the threshold. My breath caught in my throat as I jerked my arm free and scrambled away from whoever had grabbed me. I winced as my back rammed into a wooden shelf, my chest tightening with anxiety as I glanced around the dimly lit room quickly. 

A moment later, I sighed out a long breath of relief as my eyes focused on my attacker standing a few feet away. “Fuck, Stiles. What the hell are you doing?” I gasped out, putting a hand on my chest as I tried to catch my breath.

His lips twitched into a sheepish smile, one of his eyes squinting shut as he scratched at the side of his head. “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to scare you.”

“What were you trying to do?” Of all the ways he could’ve gotten my attention, that was the most unnecessary. I crossed my arms as my heartrate slowly dropped back to normal. 

His gave me a small smile as he took a couple slow steps forward, coming to a stop once there were only a few inches left between us. One of his hands came up to push a stray clump of hair behind my ear, his honey eyes dancing around my face quickly. 

“I haven’t had a minute alone with my girlfriend in days.” He murmured lowly, his head dipping down as the hand that was now tangled in my hair guided me toward him. 

Despite being the one to initiate the kiss, he was still hesitant as we inched closer together. Our noses brushed in a feather light touch, his fingers twitching against the back of my head as if he wanted to do more but was afraid to. I leaned up to brush my lips against his just once before pulling back. 

“Well you’ve got me...so now what?” I couldn’t help but grin, my voice a low whisper as I teased him. 

It’d honestly been eating at me all week, so it was reassuring that our time apart had bothered him too. Everyone was so focused on figuring out what the hell Allison and Scott ran into at Isaac’s, that he and I hadn’t had any time to ourselves.

It was way too easy to get sucked into the supernatural world and all of it’s problems. That’s why we were all going ice skating tonight. To try our hand at being normal teenagers for once.

Stiles’ eyes darkened to that warm chocolate color I’d only ever gotten a glimpse of in these more intimate situations. His free hand slid around my waist, his palm resting against the small of my back as he pulled me into his chest. His lips brushed against mine gently and I returned the kiss immediately, leaning up into him and fisting the collar of his flannel to bring him closer. 

He quietly groaned against me when I let my tongue trail across his bottom lip. He let me in right away and our tongues explores each other’s mouths for several long seconds. My hands moved to the sides of his head, a chill rolling through me at prickle of his buzzed hair against my palms. He suddenly turned us around and took a few steps forward, slamming my back into a nearby wall. 

A surprised grunt fell past my lips, and he instantly pulled away. His eyes flickered over my face quickly, wide with alarm. “I’m sorry. Are you okay? I didn’t mean to do it that hard.”

I couldn’t help but giggle at his overreaction and let my arms wind around his neck to keep him close. “It’s okay. I kind of...liked it.”

My skin erupted with heat at my own confession. I’d always secretly enjoyed the small moments he let himself go like this. I didn’t want him to be cautious and gentle all the time. He still acted like he was afraid to break me when we were intimate, and it wasn’t helping me feel any more normal. His eyebrows rose fractionally, giving away the surprise he was trying to contain.

A slow smile pulled at his lips just before he slanted them over mine again. I arched up into him, sighing as a calming tingle washed over my skin. The feeling only intensified as our kiss became more heated, both of us moaning and gripping at each other almost frantically. It was only when my temples suddenly throbbed painfully that I realized something was wrong. 

My brows furrowed as an image flashed in my mind, too quickly to comprehend. I pulled away from Stiles with a gasp, rubbing at my forehead as the pain only increased. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?” His voice rose with worry as he clasped a hand on each of my shoulders to steady me. 

I forced my eyes to stay open, hoping the vision would pass. Instead, I was overcome with the overwhelming urge to get out of the small room. Maybe if I put some distance between us, it would go away. I quickly whipped around and shoved the door open, stumbling out into the now empty hallway. I heard Stiles’ shoes on the tiled floor as he followed me out, and waved a hand in his direction dismissively. 

“I’m fine.” I wheezed out, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. “It’s just...”

I made the mistake of blinking slowly, instantly succumbing to the vision once my eyes were closed again. I was still standing in the hallway, just as before, but Stiles was nowhere to be found. Come to think of it, I wasn’t even in the same hallway. I let my eyes trail over the space as I turned all the way around, finally realizing that I was by the main office. 

I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sight of a man standing in front of the trophy case just down the small flight of stairs behind me. My eyes trailed down his frame slowly, a strange familiarity tugging at the back of my mind as I took in his weathered leather jacket and dirty, bare feet. My heart started racing as a feeling of complete and utter dread washed over me. 

I blinked a few times to clear my vision, jumping again when the man was no longer there. Now, standing in the same exact position, was Lydia. She was unmistakable even from the back, with her strawberry blonde hair, bright blue dress, and high heels that were definitely not school appropriate. When I moved to take a step toward her, I felt myself being pulled back into the present with a jerk.

My eyes popped open and I sat up with a start, one of my hands instantly moving to my chest as I tried to catch my breath. 

“Y/N! Oh my god. What the hell was that?” Stiles’ wide eyes bored into mine from above as he clutched my biceps and shook me gently. 

I sputtered silently for a few seconds as I got my barings, not knowing what to say. My head moved from side to side slowly as I took in my surroundings. I was back in the hallway near my locker, sitting on the floor with Stiles crouched down in front of me. 

“I have to—” I swallowed thickly, my heart still beating erratically. “I have to go find Lydia.”

Stiles huffed in annoyance, giving me a incredulous glower. “Are you kidding me right now? You can’t just pass out in the middle of the hallway and then—what are you doing?”

His wide eyes tracked my movements as I shoved myself up to my feet. Despite looking like he wanted to strangle me for mot staying put, Stiles helped steady me with the hands still wrapped around my arms. 

“Going to find Lydia.” I drawled slowly, seeing as I’d just said that, and brushed his hands away. 

My knees wobbled slightly as I made my way toward the office. I pushed through the nausea brewing in the pit of my stomach that only seemed to grow with each step. Something felt very wrong. I couldn’t place it, I just knew I needed to find Lydia as quickly as possible. 

“Y/N, just slow down for a second.” Stiles’ voice grew hard as he gripped my elbow and forced me to a stop. I sighed, a spark of annoyance igniting in my chest at the delay, and turned to face him. “Whatever the hell just happened back there was totally not okay. I mean you can’t just pass out one second and then run away from me the next and expect—”

“I think I have a good excuse.” I bit out, sounding more harsh than necessary. He pursed his lips, his shoulders stiffening, and I rolled my eyes. “Just trust me?”

After a few long moments of hesitation, he nodded slowly. With that, I turned on my heel and continued on my way, Stiles trailing behind. Less than a minute later, I staggered to a halt at the top of the staircase outside the main office.

My eyes instantly landed on Lydia, standing in the same position I’d seen her in moments ago. A strong sense of deja vu washed over me at the sight. My breathing slowed as I took a tentative step down, nervous that this was all a dream that I’d be waking up harshly from again. 

“Lydia?” My voice was a hesitant whisper as I approached her slowly. I didn’t want to startle her, but she stood impossibly still in front of the trophy case, not even flinching at the sound of her name. 

I came to a stop beside her, my eyes flickering over her profile quickly. After a few seconds of standing there and getting no response, I followed her wide-eyed stare through the glass. My breath hitched as I caught sight of the words that were engraved into one of the trophies closest to us. 

My heart plummeted into my stomach as realization washed over my like a thirty foot tidal wave. There wasn’t much to it. Just two words with captain beneath it. 

It was kind of funny, in a terrible way, that two simple words could make such intense dread fill me to my core. It was a name I’d be more than happy to never see again, but couldn’t seem to escape. 

Peter Hale.

Lydia suddenly breathed out a shaky sigh from beside me, and I let my eyes sweep back to hers. They were wide and bloodshot, filled to the brim with tears as she gave me this terrified, almost vacant look. All I could do was stare back at her, this whole weird situation only confirming my worst fear. 

Peter’s bite had done something to her. She’d been acting different ever since turning up at the edge of the preserve, she was just way too good at hiding it. I was probably the only one that noticed the subtle changes in her, but I knew there had to be something going on beneath the surface. 

Now, we just needed to figure out what.

                                                        ————————

“God, could it be any colder in here?” Lydia muttered, shivering dramatically as she rubbed her hands up and down her arms. 

We’d barely made it two steps into the ice skating rink, and she was already complaining. I guess her little episode at the school hadn’t effected her all that much, and we hadn’t spoken a word of it since. Stiles and I shared a quick glance before he dropped his bookbag from his shoulder and unzipped it to pull out a random long-sleeved shirt. 

“Here.” He offered it to her and she curled her lip as if it were the most disgusting thing she’d ever seen. 

“I’m wearing blue. Orange and blue...not a good combination.” With a dramatic huff, she quickly strutted off toward the bleachers.

Stiles gaped at her back, his jaw falling slack at her words. “But it’s the colors of the Mets...”

Scott clapped a hand on his back reassuringly as he and Allison passed us by, giggling about who knows what. I rolled my eyes as Stiles huffed in offense and shoved the shirt back into his bag. We joined everyone on the stands a moment later, quickly sliding our skates on. 

About thirty minutes later, I stood against the edge of the rink, my hands propped against the wall to keep my balance. All I could do was watch in awe as Lydia skated circles around every last one of us. I was seriously wracking my brain for anything that this girl couldn’t do. She seemed to be great at everything she tried. 

She twirled around too many times to count and came out of it smiling proudly, even raising her eyebrows at me expectantly when she saw that I was staring. She skated away and my attention shifted to Allison as she practically dragged Scott across the ice, moving backward so she could keep him steady by holding his hands. 

I couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight. He’d talked a big game on the way here, saying he’d have no problem ice skating even though he’d never tried it before. The whole werewolf thing was starting to go to his head, apparently. Suddenly, a warm hand closed around mine as Stiles approached me from the side. 

“Come on.” He urged, gently pulling me away from the wall. 

My knees instantly locked up as I lost my grip on the only thing keeping me upright. It’s where I’d spent most of my time since getting onto the ice. I’d only skated a few times before, and I was absolute shit at it each time. Stiles though, in all his spazzy glory, was surprisingly well balanced. 

I let him guide me along, yelping in surprise when he unexpectedly wrapped an arm around my waist and hauled me against him. My hands gripped his shoulders so I wouldn’t go tumbling onto the hard ice as he grinned down at me before planting a quick kiss on my lips. 

A relaxed smile overtook my face as I gazed up at him, completely at ease in his arms. Despite being slightly terrified of getting hurt, this was actually a super fun date. It was nice to let go for a little while and enjoy doing something utterly normal with my friends. There were no monsters, no alphas, and no psycho family members here. Just a bunch of teenagers sneaking into an ice skating rink after hours. 

After Scott flailed to the ice for what must’ve been the thirtieth time, he and Allison disappeared into a photo booth around the other side of the rink. I let Stiles pull me around in big circles, still wanting to be close to the wall just in case he bailed on me. I couldn’t help but grin as his brows furrowed in concentration and his tongue swept across his lips when he gave me pointers. 

He’d been critiquing my form, telling me to bend my knees, keep my feet straight, and so many more random things that were going in one ear and out the other. I wasn’t interested in being perfect, I just wanted to not fall on my ass. After making it all the way around for the first time successfully, I jumped into his arms, proud of myself. 

“Whoa...” He chuckled, nearly falling backward as I wrapped my arms around his neck. 

I closed the distance between us quickly, capturing his lips in a gentle kiss. He instantly tilted his head to deepen the kiss, swiping his tongue along my bottom lip slowly. I eagerly let him in as his arms tightened around me, momentarily forgetting where we were until I heard the unmistakable swoosh of someone falling on the ice. 

I pulled away from Stiles and peered over his shoulder, wincing as I saw Lydia down in a low crouch. I was honestly surprised that she fell at all, considering how well she’d been doing the whole night, but didn’t think much more of it. I moved back to Stiles, who waggled his eyebrows at me with a dopy grin. I couldn’t help but giggle, wrapping my arms around his neck again to pull him back in. 

Just before my eyes fluttered closed, something strange caught my eye. I jerked back, fumbling a little as I moved Stiles to the side so that I could see Lydia fully. There, poking out of the ice just a few inches in front of her, was a single stalk of wolfsbane. It was unmistakable even from this distance, the deep purple leaves contrasting against the stark whiteness of the ice. 

“Oh my God. Are you seeing this?” I breathed, my heart skipping a beat anxiously. 

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded from beside me, one of his arms still around my waist to hold me steady. “She’s definitely not okay.”

My brows furrowed as I watched her lift a hand to brush against the plant gently. Her head cocked to the side as she inspected it closely, her eyes wide with disbelief. 

“No, not that.” I huffed in annoyance, pointing toward the wolfsbane. “That wasn’t there before, right?” 

Stiles instantly stiffened against me. I let my gaze sweep to him slowly, slightly afraid to see his reaction to my words, but his face was unreadable. His eyes were swirling with worry as they peered down into mine. He swallowed thickly and cleared his through before speaking. 

“Y/N, there’s nothing there now...” His voice was delicate, as if he were afraid that speaking any louder would make me dissolve into a complete nervous breakdown. 

My head whipped in her direction once again, my pulse jumping at the sight of her frantically wiping her hand against the ice. Her eyes widened as she peered down into it, her face dropping in terror.

Without warning, she suddenly let out a long, bloodcurdling scream. I winced at the shrill noise, my palms jerking up to cover my ears. When she didn’t stop after a few seconds, I knew I had to do something. 

I broke away from Stiles, who was staring at her as if she’d grown a second head, and shakily made my way toward her. I let myself slide down onto the ice when I was close enough, and wrapped my arms around her shoulders. She thrashed against me, her hands pressed firmly into the ice as she continued screaming. It almost seemed uncontrollable, like she physically couldn’t stop. 

My head jerked upward as I heard quick footsteps approaching. Scott and Allison stood at the edge of the rink, watching the scene unfold, their faces a mix of horror and curiosity. Lydia finally stopped screeching and sagged back against me, her ragged breathing reduced to harsh sobs as tears streamed freely down her face. 

My eyes widened in alarm at the sight. I’d never seen her express such intense emotion before. She always kept that mask of perfection firmly in place, never letting it slip for a second. She hadn’t even been this outwardly upset after wandering around the woods for a week. 

As if that weren’t bad enough, a realization slowly dawned on me as my eyes flickered around the ice. Just as Stiles said, there was nothing there. No wolfsbane. Not even a stray leaf. I sat back on the cool surface, letting out a heavy sigh. The nagging sense of dread that’d been slowly drifting toward the forefront of my mind was ever-present now. 

And I had a feeling it was only going to get worse from here. 

                                                        ———————

I glared down at the textbook in front of me, rubbing at my temples as I tried desperately to focus. I’d been attempting to study for hours now, and it just wasn’t working. Believe it or not, it hadn’t taken long for me and the guys to get further wrapped up in the current supernatural bullshit.

One of our classmates, Boyd, has been missing for several days. It just so happens that Isaac and Erica are equally as M.I.A., and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what happened. Derek was still turning people, and he had a clear pattern. He was picking through the outcasts first, choosing loners who wouldn’t raise much suspicion if they just suddenly stopped coming to school.

What he didn’t count on was coach Finstock alerting the team of Boyd’s absence. After school, Stiles went to his house to check on him, while Scott was on a mission to find Derek. That left me here, all alone in my bedroom struggling to study.

I’d been trying to get ahold of Stiles for the last hour, but he hadn’t answered any of my texts. I didn’t want to be that clingy girlfriend, but I was honestly starting to get pretty worried. If Boyd was caught up in this mess, there could easily be hunters on his trail already. There’s no telling what Derek is up to, either, and that made me incredibly nervous.

Just then, something thumped against my window. I jumped at the unexpected noise, my eyes instantly darting toward it. My shoulders relaxed a moment later as I saw a familiar face, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. I popped to my feet and walked across my bedroom before sliding the window open.

Scott tumbled to the hardwood floors, rubbing at his forehead with a grimace. “Why is your window closed?”

“It’s forty degrees outside.” I huffed, shoving the glass pane back down as a gust of freezing wind blew inside. “What, am I just supposed to keep it open incase you decide to crawl in?”

He rolled his eyes at me, brushing his clothes off as he quickly scrambled to his feet. I crossed my arms over my chest, quirking a curious brow in his direction.

“Stiles isn’t answering me so I need your help.”

I was about to make a snide comment about being his backup plan, when his words finally sunk all the way in. If neither of us could get ahold of him, something was probably wrong.

“When’s the last time you heard from him?” I pressed, my stomach twisting with worry.

“At school, but we’re gonna have to figure that out later.” He rushed the words out quickly, clearly anxious. “I know where Boyd is.”

“Is that really what’s important right now?” I gaped at him, honestly surprised that he would choose to pursue the Boyd issue when his best friend might be in trouble.

“He’s fine, okay? I need to stop Derek before this gets out of control.” His voice hardened as he grew impatient with my stalling, but I didn’t give a single fuck. I didn’t want to be wrapped up in this supernatural shit anyway.

“You don’t have to do anything, Scott.” I threw my hands up in exasperation. “No one’s expecting you to fix all of Beacon Hills’ problems.”

“Are you gonna help me or not?” He pressed, moving toward my bedroom door expectantly.

I let out a long sigh, not even having to consider my answer. Of course I would help him, because he’s way too strong-willed to see that one of these days he’s going to get himself seriously hurt. I gestured for him to open the door and he gave me a triumphant smile before stepping into the hallway.

About twenty minutes later, we made our way into the ice skating rink cautiously. I guess it made sense that he’d be here if he ran away. Scott wouldn’t tell me how he knew to come here, because he didn’t understand it all that well himself. He said he just knew and that it was a werewolf thing.

It didn’t take long to find him, since he was driving around the ice on a huge zamboni. It was kind of hard to see in the dimly lit rink, but it was definitely Boyd on there.

“Boyd!” Scott called, his voice echoing through the large space.

He didn’t even move an inch, just continuing to stare ahead and ignore us. Scott stepped onto the ice easily and made his way toward him. I followed suit a lot slower, my knees wobbling as I tried to stay upright. My arms flailed at my sides as I slid slowly in their direction.

“I just wanna talk. Hey, come on Boyd, please. Did Derek tell you everything? And I don’t just mean going out of control on the full moons. I mean everything.” Scott tried again, this time earning a visible sigh from our classmate.

He turned his head slowly in our direction, his face completely devoid of any recognizable emotion. “He told me about the hunters.”

“And that’s not enough for you?” I snapped, nearly falling flat on my ass as I shakily came to a stop beside Scott.

“Whatever you want, there’s other ways to get it.” He added, looking up at Boyd earnestly.

I admired the way that he cared for everyone, even if he didn’t know them well. I’d only seen him talk to Boyd a handful of times all year and yet, here he was, going out of his way just to try and change his mind. It was a bit misguided at times, but still admirable.

“I just want to not eat lunch alone every day.” Boyd’s voice dropped sadly, his frustration at being a loner clear. My heart went out to him, it’s hard to make friends in high school, but that doesn’t mean you take a crazy persons offer to turn you into a werewolf.

“If you’re looking for friends, you can do a lot better than Derek.” Scott scoffed, rolling his eyes at the idea of anyone being friends with him.

“That really hurts, Scott.” Both of our heads whipped toward the entrance of the rink at the sound of a deep voice. My eyes flickered over Derek, Isaac, and Erica as they all stood in a line several feet away. It was honestly impressive that the three of them managed to get all the way here undetected. “I mean, if you’re going to review me, at least take a consensus. Erica, hows life been since we met?”

She hummed lowly, a smirk pulling at the corner of her lips as she twirled a strand of long blonde hair around her pointer finger. “In a word...transformative.”

I almost snorted at the accuracy of that word, but my amusement was quickly cut short as she barred her sharpened teeth and growled our way. My eyes widened, shocked at the level of control she already had. It took weeks for Scott to learn how to shift only certain parts of his body, so Derek must be focusing heavily on training them.

That wasn’t a good thing.

“Isaac?” His head cocked to the side arrogantly as he addressed the other beta behind him.

“Well. I’m a little bummed about being a fugitive, but other than that, I’m great.” He tilted his head back nonchalantly, his tone dripping with boredom.

“Wait, hold on.” Scott clenched his jaw and grabbed one of my hands before pulling me behind him. My legs wobbled as I slid across the ice and I gripped his arm for stability. “This isn’t exactly a fair fight.”

“Then go home, Scott.” Derek drawled before jerking his head toward Isaac and Erica.

They both instantly shifted, snarling and growling like wild animals. My heart jumped in my chest and I moved further behind Scott instinctively. I honestly forgot how terrifying newly turned werewolves can be. They had this unhinged energy, like they’d rip a thousand people apart without even batting an eye.

Scott suddenly dropped my hand and gripped my hip instead. I barely had time to glance at him in question before he was forcefully shoving me away from him. I instantly lost my footing at the unexpected move and flailed down onto the ice. Every muscle in my body stiffened as I continued sliding for several feet, only stopping once I slammed against the outer wall of the rink.

All the air rushed from my lungs in a huff at the harsh impact. I blinked a few times to clear my head and shoved my hair out of my eyes just in time to see Scott smash a fist into the ice. My jaw dropped as it easily shattered beneath his fingers. I knew he was strong, but damn was that impressive. It had to be at least a foot thick.

When his head jerked upward a moment later, he was completely shifted into his werewolf form. “I meant fair for them.” His voice was thick and guttural as he forced the words out through a tightly clenched jaw.

He roared loudly, the whole building rattling from the sheer volume of it, as Isaac and Erica came barreling toward him. He easily picked Isaac up by the lapels of his leather jacket and threw him clear across the rink like a ragdoll. I couldn’t help but wince as he hit the plexiglass barrier harshly, but it didn’t faze him in the slightest as he popped right back to his feet.

Erica came at Scott’s back, but he whirled around before she could land a hit, slamming her into the now parked Zamboni that Boyd was still sitting on. Isaac growled before sprinting forward, managing to shove him up against the large vehicle.

He was only caught off guard for a split second, but that was enough time for Isaac to throw him over his shoulder, sending him a few feet in the air. Erica pounced on him the second he hit the ice, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly.

He easily shook her off by slamming her back into the Zamboni, landing a bone-crushing punch to Isaac’s stomach. He lurched forward with a grunt and Scott smashed his elbow down onto his back, making him fall to the ice in a crumpled heap.

I staggered to my feet as both Erica and Isaac laid there for several seconds, motionless. It looked like Scott was quickly losing control of his anger, and I didn’t want him to do something he might regret. Fighting them off was one thing, but situations like this could go south in the blink of an eye if he didn’t reel himself in soon. 

I only made it one shaky step before a hand clasped around my bicep, stopping me in my tracks. My head jerked to the side to see Derek’s disapproving face only inches away. I pulled against him aimlessly, knowing that I wouldn’t be moving an inch as long as he didn’t want me going anywhere. 

“Let go.” I hissed, my eyes narrowing into a harsh glare. 

He quirked a brow, seemingly amused that I’d try and stand up to him. “Yeah, can’t do that.”

At the sound of a pained groan I twisted back toward the fight, just in time to see Scott kick Isaac in the face as he struggled to get to his feet. My eyes widened as he whipped around and threw Erica down onto the ice harshly. 

I tugged at my arm again, needing to stop him before things got even uglier. When Derek’s grip only tightened, I faced him and shoved back against his chest harshly. “He’s going to kill them!”

His eyes swept across the rink before slowing making their way back to me. He lifted one shoulder in a noncommittal shrug and I gaped at him, shocked at his lack of compassion. He didn’t even give a shit that the two people he turned into werewolves were getting their asses handed to them.

“God, is being a huge asshole part of becoming an alpha?” I snapped, finally managing to pull myself free. I staggered back a few steps, not expecting him to actually let me go, nearly falling down in the process. “What are you even trying to do?”

He made no move to respond, his lips twitching up into a slow smirk as his gaze flickered over my shoulder. I slid myself around to see that Scott was standing over Erica and Isaac’s unconscious bodies, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. 

“Don’t you get it?” His voice echoed off the walls as it rose angrily. “He’s not doing this for you. He’s just adding to his own power, okay? It’s all about him. He makes you feel like he’s given you this gift, when all he’s done is turn you into a bunch of guard dogs!”

He suddenly slammed a hand down onto Isaac’s back and slid him across the ice toward us. He stopped right at Derek’s feet, just before Scott did the same Erica. He rose to his full height slowly, narrowing his eyes into a hard glare. 

“It’s true. It is about power.” Derek stalked forward slowly, jerking his hand down to his side to reveal his sharpened claws. 

His head snapped in all directions as he transformed, his eyes flashing bright red as he stopped only a foot away from Scott and snarled. Without warning, he headbutted him harshly, sending him stumbling back a step. He took the opportunity to slash his claws against Scott’s stomach and I gasped, instantly covering my mouth to stifle the sound. 

My heart lurched in my chest, panic surging through me as Derek landed blow after incapacitating blow. Scott was too weakened by the fight with Isaac and Erica to do anything about it, which I now could see was what Derek wanted the whole time.

A painful realization washed over me just then, as Scott fell to his knees. All I could do was watch as one of my best friends was beaten to a pulp right in front of me. I was utterly useless. Not only did I not have any heightened senses or reflexes, but I wouldn’t even know how to use a weapon if I had one. 

Within seconds Scott was laying flat on the ice, clutching at Derek’s leg as it crushed his airway. He coughed and sputtered as Derek finally moved off of him a second later, not even gracing him with any parting words before walking away as if nothing had happened. I instantly started sprinting as best I could, falling onto my knees at Scott’s side a moment later. 

My eyes widened as I took in his battered state. Blood was spilling from the sides of his mouth, and the gashes in his stomach were clearly visible through the tears in his shirt. I didn’t know how fast his healing was supposed to work, but it didn’t look like it was getting better at all.

I saw movement in my peripheral and turned to see Boyd walking toward us cautiously. 

“Don’t.” Scott coughed out another few drops of blood and tried to sit up, only stopping once I put a firm hand on his chest. He wasn’t in any kind of shape to be moving at all. “You don’t want to be like them.”

“You’re right.” Boyd nodded, slowly lifting his shirt to reveal an almost completely healed bite mark above his hip. My stomach twisted anxiously at the sight. We were too late and this dumb fighting was all for nothing. “I wanna be like you.”

With that, he turned to join the others as they made their way toward the exit. My head jerked back to Scott as he let out a series of pained grunts. His eyes caught mine, shining with worry, as his head fell back against the ice. I could only assume we were both thinking the same thing. 

We were so beyond screwed. 

Episode 2