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florrickandassociates · 3 years ago

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TGF Thoughts: 5x01- Previously on...

Welcome back!! I’m so excited to be writing one of these again. I think this hiatus has been the longest I’ve gone without new Diane Lockhart content in ten years, and it sure feels like it. A lot of important stuff has happened in the time since TGF season four ended (not concluded—ended). Most notably, CBS All Access became Paramount+ and suddenly started offering a lot of content I care about! I kid. 2020 was quite an eventful year, so I was curious how television’s most topical show was going to take it on. TGF is always forward-looking, but too much happened in 2020 to be ignored. And while I didn’t think TGF would have much to say about the pandemic, it seemed impossible to imagine a season five that pretended it never happened. Going into this premiere, I was expecting that they’d either skip COVID entirely or include very few references, but after seeing this episode, I feel like the writers took the only approach that made sense. And that is why they are the writers, and I'm just some girl on the internet who writes recaps.

Anyway, before I dive into the episode, I should also note that my pandemic boredom spurred me to actually pay $30 to watch this episode early as part of the virtual ATX Festival. Yes, I paid $30 on top of the money I spend every month on Paramount+ for this show. But I write tens of thousands of words about each TGF episode—are my priorities really that surprising? I note this not to brag or even to poke fun at myself, but because watching the episode before I knew a single thing about it (not even the title!) completely changed my viewing experience. I’ve never had an experience like this with TGW or TGF. I’m one to search for critics tweeting cryptically about screeners and refresh sites looking for background extras (haven’t done this in the TGF era, though) and read every single piece of press I can find. For any big episode, I usually know the outline of what to expect going in (I even knew about Will before the episode aired in the US!). Not this one! So, I got to be surprised, and I had to—gasp—formulate my own opinions before I knew what anyone else thought! It was really pleasant, actually. I think the structure of the episode worked extremely well for me because it caught me by surprise... and also because I’m the kind of person who somehow managed to write a college paper about Previously On sequences.

I see Tumblr has made it so that “keep reading�� expands the post in your dash instead of opening a new tab. I absolutely hate this. Here is a link to the post you can click instead of the keep reading button!

The ATX stream started mid-sentence, meaning I missed the “Previously On... 2020...” title card and skipped right to Adrian saying “I’m retiring.” It was pretty easy to pick up on the device (the directness of the scenes at the start, their cadence, and their placement in the episode made it clear this was meant to mimic a Previously) but the second title card hit way harder because... well, I had no idea if this was meant to be 2020 or some moment outside of real time until a bit later in the episode.

Man, before I get any farther into this, two things that I don’t know where else to put. First, this episode had to cover so much ground. They had to write out both Adrian and Lucca—more on that later--, figure out how to deal with all of 2020, figure out how to either wrap up or continue all the truncated season 4 plotlines, and set the stage for a new season... in 50 minutes.

Second, just wanna shout out the Kings’ other Paramout+ show, Evil, which you should absolutely be watching even if you hate horror. Evil is a Kings show, so it is unsurprisingly topical (sometimes evil takes the form of racism or misogyny or Scott Rudin) and at times very, very funny. I would be recapping it if Paramount+ weren’t attacking me personally by airing it at the same time as TGF. Ever hear of too much of a good thing, people?! (On that note, I am VERY upset with myself for not having made a Good vs Evil joke about the Good shows and Evil. I didn’t even think about it until Robert King made the joke on Twitter, and it was right fucking there. How did I fail so miserably?!)

So STR Laurie, who wants a 20% downsizing, is still a thing. Noted.

This scene with Landau is the only one in this previously that is actually old footage, right?

Unexpected Margo Martindale! Yay! (Ruth Eastman is a character who is so much more effective on Fight than she was on Wife and I’m quite glad they’ve had her appear on Fight several times. It kind of redeems season seven. Kind of.)

I don’t think the writers intentionally chose for Adrian’s book deal to be with Simon & Schuster because it is the most politically fraught publisher (the number of stories about controversial memoirs they’ve picked up in 2021 alone...) but I kind of like that Adrian’s Road Not Taken involves S&S. My guess is they chose S&S because it is owned by ViacomCBS.

“Years ago, I wanted to create a law firm run entirely by women, but it never worked out. So, why not now?” Diane says to Liz. One of the advantages of having twelve (!!!) seasons of Diane Lockhart is that we’ve seen what she’s talking about. And we’ve seen her put this idea forward multiple times, too. I have my reservations about Diane’s brand of feminism, and I’ll say more about how fraught a Diane/Liz firm would be as the show explores the potential issues there, but on the surface I’m kind of excited about the prospect of a Diane/Liz led firm. Diane has wanted this for ages, Liz is a good partner, and this actually makes sense (unlike the nonsensical Diane/Alicia alliance of late season seven, where the only rationale was “well, Alicia needs to betray Diane in the finale, but they’re not on good terms. So maybe we make them business partners so then the betrayal stings more?”). Plus I fully love that Diane would end up running a firm with Alicia’s law school rival.

(Has TGF mentioned that Liz and Alicia were law school rivals? No. Am I still clinging on to that as a large part of Liz’s character? ABSOLUTELY.)

Julius is on trial for Memo 618 reasons; Diane is defending him. So this is still happening. (There’s more old footage here.)

Do they put these references to one/two party consent in these episodes as a wink at the fans? It has to be intentional. (Please do not ask me what the actual law is on this, this show has thoroughly confused me.)

I knew Cush was filming stuff for TGF, but I didn’t know it was for the premiere. She was just posting about it a few weeks ago, so either they shot a lot of it right before air or she posted a while after filming. Anyway, yay Lucca!

Bianca’s still around. And, TGF gets to shoot New York for New York, since Bianca is there. I do wish TGF could do more location shoots; there’s something about seeing an actual skyline that feels more real.

Bianca wants Lucca, who has never been outside of the country (except to St. Lucia, as Bianca reminds her) to go to London and buy her a resort. It’s supposed to be a three week stay and Bianca’s already arranged childcare. Speaking of children, because of COVID and filming constraints, that’s Cush’s real kid in this scene! You can’t really see him, but I recognized his curly hair from Cush’s Instagram, and the Kings confirmed in an interview.

Adrian wants to write a book about police brutality cases he’s worked on. Ruth very much does not want him to write that book. She wants him to write a book without substance about how white people and black people can work together. He, understandably, has no interest in writing this book. (Also, you can see in the background that Ruth doesn’t think Biden’s odds of winning the Democratic primary are good—there is a big down arrow next to his picture, which definitely dates this scene.)

Oh, David Lee is in this episode. He acts like an asshole towards Marissa when she’s trying to help him.

Marissa, not happy with the lack of respect, calls Lucca for advice “for a friend.” Lucca mentions she’s in London and Marissa does not believe her and keeps going on and on about her frustrations and her new desire to become a lawyer—quickly.

Marissa wanting to become a lawyer because she “hates being talked down to” is not a plot I would’ve expected but it’s also one that makes a lot of sense. I think Marissa’s used to being respected and praised even when she’s doing things that aren’t glamorous, so I see how she’d get very restless when she’s no longer outperforming expectations and is instead taken for granted.

Bells toll in the background on Lucca’s side and Marissa asks where she is. Lucca again notes she’s in London and Marissa still doesn’t believe her.

I’m going to miss Lucca so much, especially since we’ll also be losing a lot of the Millennial Friendship scenes with her. Cush is fantastic (even if she never really got enough to do here) and she plays so well off of the rest of the cast. I even sometimes liked the writing for Maia (who?) when she had scenes with Lucca, Lucca is that good.

Jay wakes up sweating and unable to breathe, so he deliriously calls his father-figure Adrian. This whole scene is shot like something out of Evil and (I’m getting ahead of myself here) this plot is the only thing about this episode I felt was a misstep.

“I think you’re my father,” Jay says to Adrian. Heh, I didn’t catch this line the first time around (maybe subliminally I did, since I just called Adrian his father figure lol) but I love that it is included here. Adrian and Jay’s relationship definitely deserves a goodbye.

Adrian calls an ambulance and also gets to Jay before the ambulance somehow. Adrian notes that Jay might have “this thing from China” and... we’re doing the pandemic, y’all. (Minor nitpick: on March 13th, 2020, when this scene is dated, COVID was not “this thing from China”-- we were all aware of it. March 11th was the day Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson announced they’d tested positive and the NBA shut down and travel was restricted and every single brand that had my email sent me a message about their plans and measures. March 12th was the last time I was in my office, and we’d been getting emails telling us to wash our hands and prepare to work remotely for weeks. I went to San Francisco in mid-late February and distinctly remember deciding to leave a burrito unattended on a table while I washed my hands because I was paranoid about COVID... and then I remember making a specific trip to Walgreens to buy hand sanitizer so that didn’t happen again. My point is, Adrian lives in the same world I do. On March 13th 2020, he would not be treating COVID like it was some new thing he’d vaguely heard of.)

(I am going to nitpick this timeline, but please know that I’m only doing it because I can, not because I think it’s necessarily a bad choice. Lines like this do feel a little forced, but I see the reason for introducing COVID as something new rather than going for the line that’s exactly historically accurate. I also am pretty sure there are references to dates in March/April in s4 of TGF that are now going to be contradicted by this episode, but I truly do not care. The writers get a pass on this one.)

We skip slightly back in time to the beginning of March after the MARCH 13TH title card, or maybe this is supposed to be after March 13th and my own memories are preventing me from believing these face-to-face interactions were happening. Who knows.

Michael Bloomberg is... here, again, I guess? He asks Diane to assist with a Supreme Court case about gun control. I guess it does add some weight to the plot and make the stakes feel higher.

Oh hey, this case is the 7x17 case!!!! Love that continuity.

Diane and Adrian are both at the office late, working, and there is an unnecessary split screen that feels even more unnecessary when you consider that the editing alone was enough to create the parallel.

Diane and Adrian have a nice convo (which I’ll really miss, their dynamic is great and this really feels like a successful partnership) as they wait for the elevator. When the elevator dings, they nearly tumble down into nothingness because... the elevator never came. Apparently this is a reference to an law old show I’ve never seen that killed off a character this way, and it’s meant to be a wink at how they are not going to kill off Adrian.

I do not know why I remember this, but I do: after they killed off Will, a critic (Noel Murray; I just googled to confirm my memory) who didn’t want to spoil things tweeted, “Exactly 23 years and 2 days ago, Rosalind Shays fell down an elevator shaft.” Please tell me why I remember this reference that I didn’t even understand well enough to have tracked down the original tweet in under a minute. (https://twitter.com/NoelMu/status/447942456827326464)

Back on this show, Diane and Adrian share a drink and talk about their wishes. Diane wants to argue in front of the Supreme Court, and Adrian encourages her to speak up. His own near-death experience motivates him to trash the book Ruth has him writing, and Diane trashes the (bad) legal strategy someone else prepared for the Supreme Court.

DIANE IS WEARING JEANS!!!!!! Tbh, I think my favorite part of this episode is how many slice-of-life scenes and settings we get. These are always my favorite moments. I love the satirical and political stuff too, but the character moments are what get me invested enough to write these. (Yes, Diane in jeans constitutes a character moment.)

Diane tells Bloomberg she wants to be involved and advocates for herself. Kurt gets a call on their landline (hahaha) from Adrian.

God, I love Diane and Kurt. Not only is their banter fun, you can just see a different, more relaxed side of Diane in these scenes. Diane tells Kurt she has good news for herself, but bad news for him since she’s arguing for gun control. She asks him to help her prep for court, too.

So this is before Jay is rushed to the hospital, because now we are back at the hospital with Julius, Diane, and Marissa. I do not believe any of these people would be setting foot in a hospital like it’s any other day on March 13th, 2020. But I'm trying not to nitpick.

I get why they chose to give Jay a rather severe case of COVID. I just don’t get literally anything else that follows from the initial shock of Jay having COVID.

I see why the writers chose March 20th (the actual Illinois stay at home order) as the next date for this timeline. I still do not believe that people were in this particular office on that date.

You know what else I don’t believe? That RBL just shut down for two weeks and was like, no work is being done. Did law firms really do this? I can believe it if it’s an excuse to cost-cut, and I know there were massive layoffs, but this seems... really weird???

Why are they setting up a teleconferencing infrastructure (didn’t they have one at LG? In season five?) if they are not planning to do work?

Lol Diane explains what Zoom is, very slowly. She asks everyone to “download a program called Zoom.com” which is one of the first Zoom jokes I’ve chuckled at in a while.

Marissa is not happy to hear that there’s no work for her in a work-remote world (this I believe 100%), so she calls Lucca again with more questions about law school.

Love these NYC and London location shots. Wish they could do that for Chicago.

Lucca asks Bianca to help get Marissa into a law school, fast, and Bianca tells Lucca to use her name... then offers her a job.

Marissa is at the office, alone, boxing up her things, when one of the office phones rings with some dude offering her a spot in a law school class. I guess we are really all-in on this! (Why would Lucca have given a firm phone number not specific to Marissa, though?)

Adrian and his corrupt girlfriend decide to shelter in place together. I still do not understand why he is okay with her being corrupt. I also don’t really understand why they’re going from talking about sheltering-in-place to George Floyd. How did we just skip from late March to late May? Are Adrian and corrupt gf having a conversation about sheltering-in-place two months into sheltering in place?

Okay, I am not doing so good at this no-nitpicking thing. Again, I understand why they need to merge several scenes into one to keep things moving. And I guess they could just be getting around to this conversation.

I’m going to nitpick again, I can’t help myself. How did we just go from a scene of Adrian specifically talking about sheltering in place to a scene of Adrian bursting into a bustling and maskless DNC headquarters room? How!? The only masks in this scene are on TV!! There are like ten people in this scene!

Anyway, more importantly, Adrian tells Ruth off and screams at her that she needs to listen to him instead of acting like she knows the way forward. He is completely right.

Why is travel from London closing down in May 2020? Is it because this scene is supposed to be at a different place in the episode? Liz is asking Lucca to come back home from her three week stay in London (which has now lasted three months but travel is just now closing down), and Lucca’s hesitant to come home.

This is all happening via Zoom, btw. Lucca’s in her hotel, Diane and Adrian are at their respective homes, and Liz is in the office. All of this feels right. There is a chat off to the side of the screen where you can see Adrian and the others discussing how to unmute on Zoom. Very real. Though probably not very real in late May 2020. Feels more like April. I am convinced this scene got spliced in later to help the episode flow because everything in this scene (except the TV footage that definitely was added later) feels like it should be happening in the March section.

Lucca mentions that Bianca offered her a job, and at this point we as viewers know how things are going to go—Lucca's going to end up taking it. Liz types in the Zoom chat that they don’t want to lose Lucca. When Lucca tells them how much Bianca’s offering ($500k/year, go Lucca!), Diane types “Shit.” into the chat. “Shit’s right,” Liz replies. “Yes... What should our counter be?” Diane replies. Lucca is kind enough to point out the messages are not private (again, this feels like March not May) but I think knowing that their reaction to topping $500k is “shit” tells her all she needs to know.

Diane’s background still says that RBL is a division of STR Laurie. Weird how little we are hearing about the overlords except the 20% staff cut.

Liz and Adrian chat and decide the only way to keep Lucca is to make her a partner. Which, yeah, if you’d just made her a partner years ago when you told her she was in the running for partner and then offered it to fucking MAIA, maybe she wouldn’t be considering Bianca’s offer. Lucca is definitely one of RBL’s stars, and I don’t think she’s wrong to feel like they don’t value her enough. They treat her well enough to be upset about losing her, but not well enough to have already made her partner and not well enough to actually give her authority (even though she runs a whole department). I’d be pretty unhappy too. It kind of feels sometimes like they take her for granted, and I don’t know that Lucca is one to feel like she owes a company anything. She’s more of an “I’m out for myself” type.

Madeline and the other partner we’ve seen a few times who isn’t Liz/Diane/Adrian, walk into the office (wearing masks! Which they take off as soon as they enter a room with Liz! Without asking her if she is okay with this! TV logic!) and ask who is replacing Adrian. They think this is a good time to reevaluate having a white name partner of an African American firm, and they are spot on. Liz tries to deflect, noting that Diane is already a name partner and was before Liz even joined, but Madeline and other partner (whose name I really wish they would say so I can stop calling him “other partner”) won’t let up. Their position is that Diane shouldn’t have been made a name partner then—all she did was bring in ChumHum, an account that quickly left the firm. Good point.

“What is this firm if it’s not African American? It’s just another midsized all-service Midwestern law firm, one of 50,” Madeline argues. The other partner says Liz needs to remove Diane and promote two African Americans to name partner. Liz laughs and asks if they mean themselves. Madeline does not—she's concerned about the number of black associates they’re letting go. Liz heads out, but this conversation is very much ongoing.

And I think it’s a very interesting dilemma! There’s a lot of mileage the writers can get out of this, because I don’t think there’s a right answer or a wrong one. It’s all about what Liz decides she wants the future of the firm to be. If Liz chooses Diane, she might be choosing something that works for her personally or that she thinks is a safer financial bet—but she’ll be choosing to work at a firm that can no longer be thought of as a black firm, and she’ll be choosing to move away from her father’s vision for the firm. And since the plot hinges on what Liz will decide rather than what’s objectively the right path forward, there’s a lot of interesting tension there I can’t wait to see.

(My favorite thing about Adrian leaving is that Liz will likely get more to do, especially when it comes to managing the firm. Adrian tends to speak up first, but Liz is more than capable of managing without him and I’m so excited to see what she does when her ex-husband isn’t constantly talking over her.)

Marissa and Lucca video chat with Jay. He’s still in the hospital. One thing that bugs me about how this episode handles COVID is that I never really get the sense that any of the characters are particularly afraid of the virus. Maybe none of them were. But you’d think you’d see a little of that fear, the weird dance of trying to assess others’ comfort levels with masking, etc., in an ep specifically about living through this time. ESPECIALLY since someone they all know and are close to has been hospitalized for MONTHS with this thing! It’s just so weird to go from a scene where people wear masks until they come in contact with other people (when masks matter the most) to a scene of someone in the hospital with COVID.

And now Jay’s weird hallucinations start as his battery dies on the video chat. I really, truly, hated these hallucinations. I was ready to be done with these from the second they started. They’re weirdly shot, they go on for too long, and they feel like the clunkiest parts of Mind’s Eye when Alicia starts having a debate in her mind about atheism mixed with the (far superior) hospital episode of Evil.

I don’t have much to say about these hallucinations except that I hated them a lot. When there’s the reveal that Jay is hallucinating a commerical, I almost came around on the hallucinations because that’s kind of funny and inspired. And then several more hallucinations popped up and they had a round table and Jesus got added to the mix and I was like, nope, this is bad in a very uninteresting way. I reject this.

I feel like the Kings didn’t have much to say about COVID, the actual virus. This episode is definitely more about what the characters’ lives were like during COVID and not the pandemic itself. I think they likely got a lot of their COVID commentary out of their system with their zombie COVID show The Bite (I have not seen The Bite due to it airing on Spectrum On Demand, which I have no way of accessing. Like, I would have to move and then decide to pay for cable in order to watch it.) I also suspect a lot of their commentary on COVID isn’t going to be specific to the virus and is instead going to be about things like mask-wearing and vaccinations becoming political. And, really, that’s just a new variation on talking about polarization... and they’ve been talking about polarization for years.

In fact, they even wrote a whole series about an outbreak of a (space-bug-spread) virus that caused political polarization before Trump was even elected. BrainDead is basically commentary on the pandemic before the pandemic even happened. Soooooo I get why they are more interested in recapping 2020 than in doing a Very Special Episode about themes they’ve been talking about for years. (I still think they would’ve benefitted from at least one character being afraid of getting sick or getting their family sick.)

There is likely some interesting content in these Jay hallucinations. I hate them so much I cannot find it. You know when you’re just on a completely different wavelength than the writers? This is an example of that.

Also I’m not a fan of the shadowy directing. I think this is meant to look cooler than it does.

Have I mentioned yet that I absolutely love the “Previously On” device for this episode? It’s such a fun, propulsive way to get through the slog of 2020. Scenes can be short and to the point, and each scene has to do a lot of lifting to fill in the gaps. I think that leads to scenes that are better constructed and telling on lots of levels—where are people when they’re quarantined? Who’s wearing casual clothes and when? What about this scene defines this character’s life at that moment in time?

Bizarrely, even though this episode is pretty much all plot (this happens! Then that!), I actually found this to be one of the most character-driven episodes TGF has ever done. There’s a lot of story, but most of that story is about how the characters reacted to 2020 rather than overarching plots that will weigh on the rest of the season. This episode covers a lot of ground, but it does it with character moments that resonate.

Now it’s July and Diane’s prepping to argue in front of the Supreme Court. Kurt’s helping her witness prep and it gets a little personal... and that ends up turning Diane on. Good to see McHart hasn’t lost its spark. (Remember how Kurt cheated on Diane in season 7 of Wife? No, me neither, because that never happened.)

Corrupt judge is back. Adrian playfully tries to distract her from work. Then he takes a video call from Liz, who updates him on the conversation she had with John (so that’s his name) and Madeline. I guess that part of May was close to July? Anyway, Adrian isn’t surprised to hear that people are upset at the prospect of Diane being one of two name partners.

Liz is at the office in workout clothes and I love it!

They’re losing 15 black associates (and Adrian and Lucca) and 4 white ones, Liz says. This sounds like a very big problem. (I’d be curious to know what that is as a percentage of the firm and how the racial composition shifts.)

Liz knows it’s not exactly up to her if Diane stays on as name partner (the other partners get a vote, but I think Liz knows she has a lot of sway here). She’s also wondering if Biden could win, and if so, would it be to the firm’s advantage to be black-owned? Interesting.

“Well. If you’re thinking it, then Diane’s thinking it, too,” Adrian says. He’s right. “White guilt. It runs verrrrry deep on that one, huh?” Ha. He is right about that, too. I actually can’t decide which of these interpretations is correct, because it could be either even though they seem contradictory. (1) Is Adrian saying it with a hint of mockery because he knows Diane will fight for her partnership even as she would say she’s a huge supporter of black businesses? (2) Is he saying it because he knows Diane would have enough white guilt to realize what her presence as a partner means and think through the implications? I think it is, somehow, a combination. I’m interested in this line because this whole dilemma (from Diane’s POV) is something that’s very familiar. Diane’s always been an idealist who will betray her ideals for personal gain. That sounds like an attack, but I mean that as neutrally as I possibly can. There are so many examples of this that this is kind of just a character trait of hers at this point. Usually those ideals are about feminism, but this situation seems closely related.

Adrian overhears Corrupt GF talking about Julius, Diane, and Memo 618. You would think she would wait to have this conversation until there is no chance of Adrian overhearing, because if Adrian overhears, he might...

... do exactly what he proceeds to do and hop into a car with Diane to give her a heads up. (I think I’m just going to have to accept that the mask usage rule on this episode is “we use masks to show that the characters would wear them, but we don’t want to have scenes where characters are fully masked because that’s annoying.” If that’s not the rule, then why else would Adrian be masked outside... and then take off his mask as soon as he gets into a confined indoor space with Diane?

Baranski looks ESPECIALLY like Taylor Swift in this scene.

Adrian tells Diane what he knows. He dug deeper after overhearing Charlotte, so he has even more info. “If you tell me, I will use it,” Diane warns. Adrian knows that, so he takes a moment to decide. And he decides that he cares more about Diane and Julius than about his relationship with a corrupt judge.

Diane and Julius are masked in court. Visitor and the judge are not. They use masking in a clever way in this scene: Diane uses being masked to her advantage because it means no one can possibly read her lips, so she can use the info Adrian fed her against Charlotte without any fear of spies. Charlotte, who is unmasked, guards her lips with a folder, as the Visitor watches interestedly.

Diane convinces Charlotte to recuse herself. Charlotte says she’s making a mistake; Diane does not care.

The new judge is, unfortunately, the idiot who doesn’t know anything about the law. Uh oh.

Charlotte decides she’s done sheltering in place with Adrian. He tries to talk through the conflict, but Charlotte says “You made your choice, Adrian. Julius Cain over me.”

“The choice was about right and wrong, Charlotte,” Adrian tries to explain. I mean, yeah, but if you’re dating a judge who has admitted she’s totally corrupt, didn’t right and wrong go out the window a while ago?

Adrian seems to think the other people involved in the events are bad and Charlotte is good. I am not convinced. I don’t think she’s the big bad, but I don’t think she’s good.

Charlotte points out that he invaded her privacy. She is right about that. “You said the choice was between right and wrong. Turning over my emails was the choice,” she said. I get her POV. But also, she is corrupt.

I do not like the way the part of the scene where Adrian physically restrains Charlotte to keep her from leaving is shot. I don’t think this is an abusive scene but I think it should’ve been shot from a little farther back so we could see it’s more like Adrian reaching out in desperation than trying to choke Charlotte. Because it very much looks like he is trying to choke Charlotte.

He tells Charlotte he loves her. She says it’s too late and leaves. “Maybe you won’t be with me. But you keep down this path... you’ll be done, I’m telling you, you’ll be done.”

I think something that I’ve been missing in these interactions is that I didn’t quite realize until this scene that the Adrian/Charlotte dynamic is more interesting than Adrian liking a corrupt judge. I think he truly believes Charlotte is a good person who got caught up in some bad stuff, and that she can bounce back from it. I’ve always seen Charlotte as someone who is corrupt for herself and then ended up going along with the corruption of others, too, so I’ve dismissed her and the relationship. This is the first scene that has felt real to me, and the first scene where she’s felt like more than a caricature. Kind of sad it’s the last she’ll get with Adrian—now I’m actually starting to find her interesting. Notice how in these last few sentences I’ve used her name instead of “Corrupt GF”!

Charlotte says she loved Adrian too, but that’s not enough. Awww.

He can’t really be surprised though, can he?

Now it is August and we get to see Diane and Liz react to the announcement of Kamala Harris as Biden’s VP pick, and I would like to thank the writers for giving me the opportunity to see Diane and Liz react to this. It’s kind of fan-service, but it’s also a nice tie-in to the girl-power theme of the Diane/Liz alliance.

Diane and Liz realize that Adrian’s probably not a good candidate for 2024 if the DNC only wants one black candidate and Harris is the clear front-runner. Liz suggests keeping him on as partner instead, in a way that very much implies this would be her ideal solution. Diane, being Diane, says she was liking the idea of an all-female firm. Liz hesitantly says she was too, and Diane senses the hesitation.

“Let’s look again at which associates to fire. I’m worried we’re losing too many African Americans,” Diane switches the subject. How have they still not made this decision? If any employees know downsizing is coming, and they’ve had months to act on it, assuming there are jobs elsewhere, people would’ve been jumping ship by now.

But that’s not the point of this scene. The point of this scene is that Liz corrects Diane: “Black. You can just say Black people.” Very nice moment underlining the tension. Diane means well, but she’s still acting like a white lady who doesn’t know how to act around black people... and she wants to (and, I guess, already does) run a black firm. Major yikes.

Marissa and Lucca are talking again. Marissa does not want to be in law school—she just wants to be a lawyer. Lucca won’t accept Marissa’s refusal to memorize meaningless rules: “Marissa. I know that you know how to play the game, but you have to pass the bar to get into a position to play the game.” Why does this line make me love Lucca? This line isn’t even anything amazing. It’s just a line that cuts through the bullshit and makes a good point.

Marissa keeps going, insulting all of her peers and teachers, and Lucca figures out how to cut through that, too: she tells Marissa that she’d hire her as a lawyer if she killed someone, but only if Marissa passes the bar. Marissa is instantly intrigued.

“Why are you leaving here? I’ll miss you,” Marissa says.

“Because they won’t pay me what I deserve,” Lucca says in a matter-of-fact tone. “Anyway, I thought they fired you.”

“But they didn’t mean it. It’s like the smoothie place—they kept trying to fire me and I just kept showing up,” Marissa replies. That checks out. (Love the callback!)

Lucca tries to get Marissa to come over to England. Marissa shuts that down as Lucca gets a news alert—and it’s not good news.

Our next date is September 18th, 2020 and I will get my nitpicks out of the way up front! I don’t really know why it is daytime for Lucca when she reads the news, considering it was already the evening in the States when the RBG news broke. And, also, it was Rosh Hashanah, so Marissa probably would not have been sitting in her bedroom studying... she most likely would’ve been with family or friends. OK I’M DONE. FOR NOW.

Diane is getting ready for her arguments in front of the Supreme Court. It’s almost time! She’s in casual clothes but has on a wonderful mask. She’s standing in front of Kurt’s guns to make a point (love that she’s using her video call background to her advantage) and there are several people in her bedroom getting the tech all set up. I have noted before that they only built one set for Diane’s apartment, and it’s just a massive bedroom. Diane choosing to be in front of the guns does a nice job of cutting off my question about why she’d be arguing in front of the Supreme Court from her bedroom rather than the home office she absolutely would have.

Kurt walks in and tries to shake hands... he’s clearly not very COVID paranoid, and Diane seems to be, and... that’s something I might have wanted to see? How was Diane okay with Kurt taking risks that also affected her?

Diane confirms she intentionally chose to stand in front of the guns. That’s when Kurt gets the push notification. He pulls Diane into the bathroom to show her the news. He hands her his phone and Diane’s face falls. She starts tearing up. “2020 just won’t let go,” she says, speaking for us all.

Normally I hate things that are like, we’re going to contrive this so the news hits at the worst possible moment! This works for me, because the Supreme Court plot for Diane feels more like something that exists to be a through line for the episode. It would also be a little hard to work in RBG’s death as a main plot point—and it is definitely important enough to be a main plotpoint—if it didn’t also affect something in the world of the show.

Also, another reason I like this contrivance is that it makes it all the more powerful when Diane says, “It’s over. He gets to nominate someone. Another Kavanaugh! We’ll have a conservative court for the next 20 years. My whole fucking life!” She’s not thinking about how this affects her case (and that case is basically a life-long dream for her). She is thinking about way bigger things, and knowing that her mind goes to the bigger things before the personal with news like this really underlines how big of a deal RBG’s death was.

Diane tells Kurt, “I don’t deserve you. You don’t agree with me.” “I can still feel bad for you,” he responds. He holds her while she cries.

Jay’s hallucination thing is back. Now Karl Marx is here. So is Jesus. I’m so done with this. It’s nice to get a break from writing.

Malcolm X is also on the roundtable and now they’re talking over each other in that way that everyone on this show always does. (RK gave an interview about Evil where he said he likes having the children on that show talk over each other because he grew up in a household like that. I did not need to read that interview to understand that RK likes scenes where people talk over each other.)

If anything happened in those hallucinations, I missed it, because I didn’t pause the episode. Because I do not care about the hallucinations. Because I hate them.

Now it’s November 2020... Diane’s watching election results and rocking back and forth. She tells Kurt he can go watch Fox News in the other room (so they do have more than one room!). He says he’s fine—he thinks Diane needs it more.

“Yes, but Kurt, if you stay, I know this isn’t sensible, but... Trump seems to get more votes whenever you’re sitting on this couch,” Diane tells him. Ha, I relate to this kind of superstition so hard. “Are you serious?” Kurt says. “I am so deathly serious,” Diane responds. “Whenever you’re sitting here, Arizona goes for Trump. Humor me, please. Just go in the other room.”

When Kurt tries to kiss her, she pulls away: “No, no, no. No kiss. If you kiss me, we’ll lose Georgia.” This scene feels so, so real and perfectly captures what it was like (at least for me, though I don’t have a Republican husband or anything) watching election results come in.

“Uh, if you lose, we’ll be fine, right?” Kurt asks. “Kurt, let me just say this. I’m only saying that we won’t be fine so that the universe will grant me a win,” Diane responds. This scene is so fun and so good! It simultaneously captures a relatable mood, adds some levity, gives us a window into Diane’s life, and shows some of the tensions in her marriage?! I want this all the time!

Kurt leaves the room. Diane pours more wine.

Later, with Diane still rocking back and forth with anxiety (just you wait for the several more days this will drag on!), Kurt brings in the champagne. “That was for when Hillary won. I can only drink it if Biden wins,” Diane protests. Did I also refuse to drink any celebratory alcohol until things were absolutely certain? No comment.

“It’s odd you progressives resisted religion. You seem to have a hundred religions to take its place,” Kurt says, speaking on behalf of the writers’ room. (This joke doesn’t get written if the writers don’t believe this and probably even see it in themselves.)

“Go away, Trump. I mean Kurt,” she shoos him away. Have I mentioned yet I love this scene?

“Love me even if you lose?” he jokes (though I do wonder if this isn’t that joking? I think it is, but he keeps saying it!) as Diane gestures at him to get out.

I could do without the joke about Diane’s heart on the TV for a couple reasons. One, it goes on too long. Two, I was very worried something would actually happen to Diane. You’d think that would make the scene feel more tense, but it does not, because it takes me out of the moment.

“Ok, God. You know I don’t believe in you. But I will believe in you if Joe Biden wins. I’m sorry. I know that that’s not what Jesus taught. There’s nothing in the New Testament that says, ‘Believe in me, and I’ll make sure your candidate wins,’ but I need Joe Biden to win. I’m sorry, God, but I just do. I need some faith.” This is a little much but... yeah. Also, is this the first time Diane’s flat out said she’s an atheist? I think it is, though I’ve assumed as much for quite a while.

The next day in court, masks are no longer required if you’re a series regular and votes are still being counted. I remember those days. Marissa thought Diane was checking in on Jay... Diane was not. She was checking on vote counts.

Apparently Jay’s finally being released from the hospital!

Bad news for Julius—the idiot judge finds him guilty of some nonsense charge and sentences him to seven years in prison.

Diane says not to worry, and Julius asks “Why not?” Good point.

Then we have election results! We skip, specifically, to December 14th and the electoral college vote. I’m a little sad we skipped over the huge party that was November 7th, but I get why they’d rather keep things moving along. I think showing November 7th in an uncomplicated way would’ve just been too close to fanservice. But, man, what a day.

Diane, in a red hoodie with leopard print that she somehow manages to still look classy in, is ready to pop champagne. Then she hears that on January 6th, a joint session of Congress will count the electoral votes and there might be a debate. “Nope. If I open it now, something bad will happen,” she reasons. “I’ve waited four years. I can wait another few weeks.”

It’s been almost a year and they’re still somehow negotiating with Lucca, but I understand why they’d space this out across the episode. Otherwise we’d have to say goodbye to Lucca in the first like, 15 mins of the episode and all those scenes would be in a row. I can forgive (and still nitpick) choices like this when the reasoning behind them seems sound.

Adrian says they don’t want to lose Lucca. He, Liz, and Diane are all in the conference room, and they ask Lucca for a yes or no on their latest offer by the end of the call. Diane offers Lucca partner—she'll be the youngest partner in the firm’s history—and she’ll get a $500,000/year salary. Adrian tries to sell her on being part of American history by being part of the firm.

“We are a black firm, Lucca, and we need you,” Liz says with a lot of passion for someone who knows she might very well partner with Diane. Diane looks at Liz with a bit of suspicion at this, wondering if Liz is showing her cards.

Lucca manages to make the wifi malfunction (or she gets very lucky) and uses the disconnection to call Bianca for a counteroffer, even though they said they needed a yes or no on the spot.

“They used George Floyd because they want you for less. They have never appreciated you as much as I do. All those scars, all that time being taken for granted and undervalued has made you a fighter. It’s made you someone I now want,” Bianca tells Lucca. She gives Lucca a counter offer of $1.3 million and the title of CFO. Lucca takes it. Is there really another choice? (If she were concerned about loyalty to the firm and the partnership was what she wanted, she probably would've just taken it.)

(Also, the partners can’t really act like Lucca is making history by being the youngest partner ever when they passed her over for partner two years earlier and offered it to Maia! To MAIA! Who had like three years of work experience! And yes I was fine with Alicia and Cary getting partnership offers with four years but, one, that was a scam, and two, Alicia and Cary actually worked. Oh, I see I still hate Maia with a passion. Back to THIS season...)

Lucca apologetically informs Marissa she’s leaving and the offer was just too good to turn down. I believe it. I also believe Lucca wants that job more. What has loyalty to RBL gotten her? She's someone so talented and good at her job that she just gets job offers from acquaintances all the time (starting with Alicia!). RBL appreciates her, but just enough to appease her while still undervaluing her. I don’t know that I would’ve believed a plot where Lucca actively job hunts, but I definitely believe this.

“Marissa, we don’t have to work together to be friends,” Lucca tells Marissa. I’m going to miss this so much. Why is this the best material Lucca’s gotten in ages?! I think one of the things that makes Lucca such a great character is that you can see why everyone instantly wants her on their team. She’s a fantastic friend (without giving too much of herself), she’s not a pushover, and she is incredibly sharp and able to get to the heart of any situation. I love her and I’m sad we won’t get to see more of her.

(On that bit about friendship—I can’t write about Lucca’s departure without writing about the moment I realized just how great of a character Lucca was. It was in 7x13, when Alicia has her breakdown that’s seven seasons in the making... and Lucca supports her. But the writing, and Cush’s performance, never make it feel like Lucca exists to be a part of Alicia’s story. Lucca seems like her own fully formed person who happens to be supporting Alicia at this moment. I don’t think I can overstate how tough of a task it is to get me to care about the other person in a pivotal Alicia scene, especially when that other person was added to the cast in the final season and many suspected she’d just be a replacement for a different beloved character! Anyway, Lucca’s been great for years, and I’ll miss her.)

Just when I thought I couldn’t hate the hallucinations more, we get a hint that they are going to continue: Jay sees one right after he learns that Marissa’s used her quarantine to start law school and he’s done nothing.

Jay says he carries a gun now and it’s “performative.” I have no idea what that means and Marissa and Lucca don’t seem to, either.

Another thing I like about Lucca’s final scene is that it isn’t rushed. We have time for all that, and also for Lucca to tell Marissa about the time she stole her breakfast sandwich, and for Marissa to react to it, and for Marissa to find Lucca’s Birkin bag, and for Lucca to tell Marissa to keep it, and for Marissa to react to that, and for Lucca to sappily say “think of me when you use it,” and for Marissa to nonsensically reply, “you think of me when I use it,” and there’s still a little bit more of the scene after that!

Marissa’s silly line makes Lucca tear up. “God, I’m gonna miss you guys,” she says. “I’m gonna miss this. You make me smile. I didn’t smile much before you guys.” Awwwwwww. This is also so true to character! Her friendship with Alicia aside, Lucca’s definitely said before she’s not one to have friends (which is hilarious because she is, as I've said like 100 times, a fantastic friend and also just like, the coolest person??? Who wouldn’t want to be HER friend?!).

She says she has to go because she’s getting too emotional and says goodbye. She’s also super sappy and when Marissa says, “you were the best,” she responds that they were the best TOGETHER! Awwwwwww.

What a nice, fitting goodbye for Lucca. There’s no bad blood or fireworks—she just makes a change like a lot of people do. I’d like to think she’ll still be friends with Marissa and Jay after this. I don’t want too many Lucca references in future episodes, but I would really like it if we see Marissa and Jay update each other on the latest from Lucca, or if a scene begins with Marissa closing out an Instagram post from Lucca of her kid, or something. I wouldn’t want clues about what Lucca’s up to, but I’d love to see that she’s still a part of Marissa and Jay’s lives.

Now it is January 6th. Liz, Adrian, and Diane sit on the floor of the mostly empty office, watching TV coverage and drinking. It’s so relaxed it’s almost surreal, and it, like many other moments in this episode, feels like a slice of life. Everyone’s dressed casually and no one is worried about appearances or looking like the boss.

“God, have you ever seen anything like it. It’s so fucked,” Diane says. Adrian’s more optimistic—the courts rejected most of the challenges to election results! “System worked,” he says. “Yay.” Liz says in response. She’s not as optimistic as he is.

“Liz. Liz. Sometimes when things work out, there is no parade. There’s no congratulations, but I’ll tell you this: We live to fight another day,” he explains to her even though she makes a good point that a system just barely hanging on doesn’t bode well for the future. (She doesn’t say all this, but that’s a very loaded, “Yay.”)

“Yeah? Then why are you leaving the law?” Liz asks. Diane seconds to the question.

Adrian announces he’s still retiring—and he’s moving to Atlanta. He wants to go to the south to help “create and consolidate political power.” He’s excited to start over and inspired by Georgia going blue. This is a very nice exit for Adrian. I fully believe that he’s interested in political organizing, that he’d be good at it, and that he’s ready for a change. I don’t think he’s always the most progressive person (of the three in this scene, Liz is absolutely the most progressive one, though Diane probably thinks she is!), but I absolutely think he thinks of himself as an activist and I believe that if he’s going to step away from the law, he’d do so to make a move like this.

Adrian—and Lucca, but especially Adrian—probably both got better exits thanks to the events of 2020. If Adrian had just left to be groomed by the DNC, that would’ve been a predictable and boring ending for him. His candidacy would, obviously, go nowhere, and the whole thing felt weird from the minute it was introduced. But this? Adrian being energized—like so many others were—by the ways the world changed in 2020 and using his already announced departure from the firm and recent breakup as a chance to start over and make change? This is great!

Adrian asks Liz and Diane what’s next for them. Liz says that she thinks the Biden admin will be better for black businesses. Adrian asks if they’re replacing him, and Diane says, “I think the big question is, are you replacing me?” She’s smart. I like how this scene goes from friendly to tense very fast, with everyone kind of testing the waters. Adrian tries to force the conversation, Liz opens with something vague yet pointed, and Diane speaks what’s previously been unspoken.

Liz says it’s not her intention to push Diane out. “I can’t change the color of my skin,” Diane replies. “I know,” Liz laughs. Audra’s delivery is fantastic on that line.

“Hey, I’m gonna fight for my partnership,” Diane says. “I know,” Liz says. The tone of this scene is so different from previous partnership drama on these shows and I’m excited about it. This is just a bunch of adults talking about business decisions with each other and treating each other as equals?? It's not backstabbing?? Or drama?? No one is hiding things?? It’s refreshing and I hope this plot stays like this. We’ve done so much partnership drama that I think drama that stems from a real, pressing question that has no easy answers and isn’t anyone’s fault is going to be much more fruitful for the show.

Adrian heads out—ah, I see now this scene is set in his empty office and this is why they are on the floor—and gets a nice last moment with Diane. And then they give him a last moment with Liz, which I knew they would but was still glad to see.

Liz asks if he knows what he’s doing—he says he’s not sure.

Adrian asks if Liz knows where she stands regarding Diane. “It’s going to be interesting,” Liz says. I don’t think she’s decided what she’s going to do yet.

It wouldn’t be an Adrian and Liz scene if Adrian didn’t have some unsolicited advice. “Diane’s a terrific lawyer, but this firm belongs to you. Your dad built it. He did, Liz. Despite all his faults. You got to run this place the way you want. This is a black firm. And after today, the world needs black firms. You got me?” He tells Liz. He makes it seem like Liz gets the choice and then tells her what to do. She says, “I got it,” signaling she understood him but not that she necessarily agrees.

I cannot wait to see what Liz does next!!!!!!! About this but just in general!!!!! Without Adrian there giving her constant advice I feel like she can grow so much and the show will have to give her more to do!!! I think Adrian, for all his many wonderful qualities and all he brought to the show, can suck all the air out of a room with his charisma, and Liz usually ends up suffering as a result. She’s such a capable lawyer in her own right, but Adrian has a way of making it always seem like he’s right—even in arguments she wins. I’m excited to see Liz lead (or stumble at leadership; she is fairly new to management) without Adrian’s direct influence.

Liz walks Adrian out and it’s cute. They run into Marissa and Jay. “Everybody fun is leaving,” Marissa notes. Liz is minorly offended, but playfully. Heh.

Adrian asks Jay how he’s doing; Jay says he’s a long-hauler but he’s doing okay. I like that they included that moment in Adrian’s goodbye sequence. It’s a very little thing, but it underlines that Adrian cares about Jay.

Then Liz interrupts to note that Trump pardoned a lot of convicted and corrupt Republican officials....... including Julius.

Everyone celebrates, but especially Diane and Marissa. Diane lets out her wonderful laugh and then we, finally, get to the credits. Because now that the previouslies are over, it’s time for the real show.

The credits are absolutely delightful, btw. I was a little worried some of the kittens would blow up, though! Once I relaxed and realized what they were up to—literal puppies and kittens because Biden won—I couldn’t get enough of these credits. They work so well because they accurately capture the way I (and all of these characters, except maybe Julius and Kurt) feel about the election results, but it’s so exaggerated that you know the kittens and puppies aren’t a realistic representation of our new reality. They’re just too good to be true, but you may as well enjoy them for a minute. I’m sure we’ll be back to exploding vases next week.

What a great episode! My timeline nitpicks and whatever they’re trying to do with Jay aside, I was blown away by how well the writers managed to move on from season 4, tie up loose ends, and write out two main characters. And they did it all while making me revisit the events of 2020, a year I don’t think many of us want to spend much time thinking about! This episode was enjoyable, fun, emotional, and clever. I don’t know what to expect from the rest of the season, but I’m definitely excited about the show in a way I haven’t really been in quite some time.

This season’s naming convention seems to be titles that end with ... and only have the first word capitalized. I want to see more.

Season FIVE? There have already been as many TGF seasons as there were TGW seasons prior to Hitting the Fan?! Time flies.

Please writers: No topical episodes this year-- no pee tape, no Melania divorce, no Epstein. None of that business.

Sorry if I repeated myself here. I never proofread these things, and I wrote half of this on Saturday and half of it today (Wednesday) and the days in between were an absolute blur so I cannot remember if I said the same things about this episode twice.

#the good fight #tgfthoughts

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calumance · 4 years ago

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Omg can I request two blurb/imagines?? Or a combined one hehehe Maybe one where we see a protective mom reader again and maybe it’s with a mean parent that either talks bad about her kids but also Cal and his career? and another one where we get to see protective Cal like usually he’s pretty calm and has to calm his wife down but maybe someone or a parent insults cal’s career and he doesn’t mind cuz he always has haters but when they insult his wife/family 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵 he jumped

I GOT CARRIED AWAY I’M SO SORRY THIS IS SO LONG. 🙈🙈🙈🙈 The Hoods stand up for each other, through thick and thin ❤️❤️❤️

It was four in the morning when your alarm went off. Calum was half way across the world and four A.M. was just about the right time to catch him getting ready for a show. Although he never asked you to wake up that early so you could call him, it was something you did just because you couldn’t go a day without seeing him. You sat up and turned your alarm off and tapped through your phone to start a FaceTime call with Calum. You were mid yawn and mid eye rub when he answered. Calum chuckled, “Good morning, sunshine.”

You finished yawning and dropped your hand to your side, “Morning. How was your day?” Sleep still clung to your voice, you were tired, and as badly as you wanted to keep sleeping, you would much rather see him than go back to sleep.

“It was alright, darling. We go on stage in about thirty minutes. What do you have on your schedule today?” Calum ran his hand through his hair and looked into the phone screen. His eyes twinkled in the light of the dressing room. It was eating you alive that you couldn’t be with him.

You sighed and then shrugged, “Nothing during the day. One of the moms from Aiden’s soccer team is having this ‘family night’ that I think I might just drop Aiden off at and come home and watch movies with Logan.” You shrugged and looked around the all too empty room.

Calum pulled his eyebrows together, “Why don’t you want to go?” Calum lifted a red solo cup to his lips and you remembered all the things his lips have done to you.

You shook your head, shaking the naughty thoughts from your mind and shrugged, “It’s a family night, since you’re not here, I don’t really have my whole family. I’d rather Aiden go have fun with his friends while I cuddle my other son and watch some Disney movies.”

Calum chuckled, “I think you should go, maybe call Sierra or Alex and see if either of those girls want to go with you.” You shrugged at the suggestion and changed the subject, wanting to talk to Calum about other things before he had to go.

Throughout the whole day, you thought about what Calum had said to you, and you weren’t sure what got to you, but you ended up calling Alex and asking if she wanted to go with you. It was only a few hours later that she showed up at your house and started to get ready with you. After everyone was ready, you drove the four of you to the event center that the ‘family night’ was being held at. When you walked in, Aiden immediately caught sight of his friends and ran off. Logan found the friend he had made throughout the season and ran off as well. You looked over at Alex and shrugged, slowly making your way into the hall to start mingling.

Within a few minutes, you found yourself talking with a small group of other parents, Alex standing next to you. You both had a glass of wine, and the night seemed to be going okay, until one parent decided to not keep her mouth shut. “So, is Calum not coming tonight?” She had a stupid smile on her face, the one that made her look like she was about to pry too far into your life.

You let out a soft chuckle and shifted your weight, “Oh, um, no. Calum is on tour right now, he’s in Germany right now. He won’t be home for a couple more months.” You nodded as if you were trying to convince yourself that him not being home wasn’t slowly eating you from the inside out.

The stupid smile on her face never faded. “That explains a lot, then.” You narrowed your eyes and shook your head, trying to understand what she was referring to. She shrugged and the stupid smile grew bigger. “I’m just saying with Calum not being home a lot, it makes a lot more sense that Aiden is a bit on the,” You raised your eyebrows and leaned forward just waiting to hear what this woman was about to spit out. “Girly side.” The woman shrugged, the smile on her face making you want to punch her in front of everyone.

“What the fuck is wrong with that?” You said without skipping a beat. You raised an eyebrow and tapped your finger nails against the glass in your hand, trying to focus on the sound and not losing your cool in front of everyone and their kids. Alex grabbed your elbow as if to tell you she had your back, the feeling made your blood simmer a bit. You tilted your head waiting for the woman to dig herself out of her hole.

The same stupid smile was sitting on her face, but her eyes changed to show that she was suddenly uncomfortable. “Well, I’m just saying that if Calum had a normal career that Aiden would be able to grow up with a father figure, and focus on the things boys should focus on.” She nodded to herself as if that was a completely rational thing to say.

Alex looked over at you as you grinded your teeth together. In hopes of keeping your rage at bay, you tossed back the last bit of wine in your glass and took a deep breath. “What exactly do you propose Aiden should be focusing on?” You narrowed your eyes again and tilted your head the other direction.

Her mouth hung open as she stumbled over her words. “Aiden should be focusing on sports and cars and action movies, but instead he focuses on things like princesses and music and taking care of his little brother. I think it’s about time you tell Calum to quit the whole Rockstar thing so that he can stay home and teach his boys the right things.” She stood up straight and rolled her shoulders back as if she were standing her ground.

Your blood absolutely boiled as you looked over at Alex. Alex looked over at you at the same time and you exchanged a look. You laughed and licked your lips before looking up at her, “Aiden has every right to be into princesses because princesses are normally portrayed as strong independent women who just happen to fall in love with a guy that goes through some treacherous adventure with her. Maybe in the future he’s going to learn that the woman he falls in love with doesn’t need him, she wants him. Or man, for that matter, because he could fall in with a man, who the fuck cares, because I know that my son will treat his significant other better than you because of the fact that he doesn’t focus on stupid shit like sports, or car, or action movies. Aiden focuses on music because it’s what his dad does, and it’s what his dad loves, music brings those two closer than I’m sure any of you are to your kids. And the reason Aiden focuses on taking care of his little brother is because he’s not an asshole. Neither Calum or I have ever asked him to help take care of Logan, but he does it because he cares.” You shrug and let out a breath that felt like it might be fire. “But, yeah, let me tell Calum to quit the dream he’s had since he was fourteen so he can teach our child to be a ‘man.’” You waited for a second to see if anyone had anything else to say. When no one spoke up, you nodded once and turned on your heels. As you walked away from the group of parents, you slammed the wine glass down on the table, hard enough that the stem broke and the glass rolled off the table.

It took a while for you to cool down. It wasn’t until you were at home and sitting on the edge of the pool with your feet dangling in the water, and a drink in your hand that you finally calmed down. Alex sat next to you, her legs dangling in the water as well, laughing at how stupid those parents all sounded. Your phone vibrated, and when you looked at the screen, it was a message from Sierra. There was a video that was taken with someone’s phone and a message under it, “The boys had an interview today that Andy caught on his phone, but isn’t being aired, I think you should watch this.” You pulled your eyebrows together and tapped the video.

The interview was normal up until the point when the interviewer said something rude about a picture the paparazzi had taken of all of you while you were out with Ashton before the tour started. “Calum, your wife looks as if she’s struggling to get that baby weight to go away, huh?” The interviewer laughed as if that was something most people joked about.

Calum kept a polite smile on his face, but he pulled his eyebrows together and looked at the camera. You could tell he was about to lose his shit, but Calum was usually pretty quiet and reserved. You felt your heart race as he looked back at the interviewer and asked a simple “I’m sorry?” His leg bounced and his fist rested against his thigh, it was his tell-tale sign that he was absolutely pissed off. The interviewer laughed and waved his hand as if brushing off what he said, “No, no, tell me again what you just said about my wife.”

The interviewers face fell and he gulped, “I’m just saying she looked a lot prettier before she had two kids, you know, I mean most women look prettier before having two kids. I don’t mean any offense to you or her.” He chuckled nervously, realizing how badly he just fucked up.

Calum sat up straight and laughed, all of the boys looking at him with wide eyes, almost as if they were waiting for him to say something, because if he didn’t, they would. “My wife was beautiful before having two kids, but after having two kids she is absolutely extravagant. You know why, because the changes her body went through to have those two kids made her who she is, and those changes are absolutely breath taking.” Calum shrugged and shook his head, “Yeah, I don’t think I can sit in an interview with someone who just insulted not only me, but the love of my life and mother of my children.” With that, Calum stood up and walked away, and the video stopped.

You held your phone tightly, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Damn, I’ve never seen Calum that angry.” Alex said over your shoulder, as you chuckled and pretended nothing that was said bothered you.

By two A.M. you figured sleep was something that just wasn’t going to happen, still wrapped around the thought of someone realizing how much your body has changed since you had Aiden and Logan. You reached to the side table and grabbed your phone, tapping the phone to FaceTime Calum. He answered, a big smile spread across his face. “You’re not supposed to call me for another three hours.”

You rubbed the back of your neck and nodded, “I know, I can’t sleep.” You smiled at him and the smile on his face faded.

He left the room and went to somewhere that was a bit more quiet. “Is everything alright? Why can’t you sleep?” He took a drink from his red solo cup and you closed your eyes.

“Today was horrible, Calum. I went to that stupid ‘family night’ with Alex and ended up getting in a fight with another parent because she told me that you should quit your career so that Aiden can be more manly.” You looked back to Calum who was frozen in place. “I told her off, Cal, I did. I’m not going to let anyone insult my kid, or my husband.” Calum lowered his head and nodded, obviously realizing that you saw the video. “And then that video, I mean, thank you for standing up for me, baby, but I feel so terrible now.” You shook your head and lowered it to hide the tears that were forming at the edge of your eyes.

“I told Andy to delete that video. That guy was an asshole, I wanted to punch him, and I’m not usually one who wants to hit someone. I need you to listen to me,” He paused waiting for you to acknowledge that he had your full attention. You looked up at the phone and nodded. “You were, and still are, and always will be the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on. You should be proud of what having two kids did to your body, because you gave birth to two of the most perfect kids. That guy can fuck off, I love you for who you are, no matter how many kids we have.” The corner of your lips twitched. “Hell, I’m even going to love you and think your beautiful when we’re old and every inch of our bodies sag in places that shouldn’t sag.”

You laughed and ran your hand along your neck, “You’ll still love me when my boobs hang down to my waist band of my pants?”

Calum scoffed, “I still love you even if you have to tuck your boobs into your pants to keep them from flopping everywhere.” Calum cracked and smile and shook his head.

You busted out laughing and quickly covered your mouth as to not wake Aiden and Logan who were fast asleep in the room across the hall. You shook your head and looked into the phone. “I love you so damn much, Calum.”

“I love you too, baby. Why don’t you get some sleep and I’ll call you later when it’s stupid early here?” You smiled and agreed, finally feeling the exhaustion wash over you. As you laid back in bed, you couldn’t help to think what the hell you did to end up with a man like Calum.

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

Tag list: @mantlereid @notinthesameguey @viiirg0 @wheniminouterspace @thinkofmehlgh @another-lonely-heart @limer-encia @itsmytimetoodream @babyoria @treatallwithkindness

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softestsaddestbitch · 4 years ago

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December TC Challenge

stole this from @elder-edda (sorry for creeping! just, given the usual demographic of the tc community I was excited to find another 20-smthg)

1) what color is your tc’s hair?

He has just, simple brown hair but he’s starting to go grey which, no lie, is 100% doing it for me.

2) is your tc married?

Yes? He doesn’t wear a ring and I believe she kept her last name which makes me think it’s more of a civil partnership since they’ve been together since the early 2000s at least. But he also will refer to her as “my wife” and was telling me once that they waited until “after they got married” before moving in together.

3) if yes, do you care? would you do something with them regardless of their marriage?

I know these questions are general but I do take offense at the idea of being a homewrecker/other woman. I’ve met his wife, she’s really nice.

4) what’s your worst memory with your tc?

I put my foot in my mouth SO OFTEN. Good lord. Especially my last semester at that school? He was acting weird and I had just realized after fucking ... four years?? that I romantically liked him. So I kept bringing up my weird age fixation and other bs bc I have adhd and am possibly autistic?? and can’t read a room to save my life.

5) what’s your best memory with your tc?

One year we had a really bad snowstorm, so bad in fact that I had my first-ever snow day. The college that I used to go to has four campuses across as many cities, and C has to drive in twice a week to my (old) town from his. Now, morning classes had been canceled but afternoon classes had been given the go-ahead. C, who does not check his emails until he arrives at campus, evidently did not get this message until he was already in town and therefore didn’t have a morning class, but did have an afternoon class. On this day I had a late morning class that had been reinstated, but my prof didn’t get that memo so I also was on campus but didn’t have a class. So I went to visit his office, which I had been doing throughout the semester (I didn’t have a class with him at the time) and we just ... hung out for like 2 hours. It was so nice and one of the anecdotes he told me still haunts me lol.

sidenote: at the time, I hadn’t yet realized that I liked him, but I still went out of my way to visit him. Damn I was a dumbass.

6) does anyone in your school know how you feel?

ish? I told a classmate but in a “haha joking” kinda way. And a friend who went to that school knows. No one at my current school knows.

7) does your tc know how you feel?

I think he might? might have a lil inkling which would explain why he started acting so weird my last semester. Or at the very least was told/realized how bad it could look that he was getting so chummy w/ a student.

8) do you think there’s any chance your tc reciprocates your feelings?

He and his wife have been together for around 20 years now. No. No, I don’t think so. Maybe in an alternate universe.

9) are you getting your tc a christmas present? if so, what is it?

I have in the past! Specifically like, a tin of cookies lol. I’ve also given him an actual present when I left. I do intend to send him a Christmas card every year but not this year because ... you know ... the apocalypse.

10) have you ever flirted with your tc?

Flirtation inherently has intent. So, no. How he interpreted our interactions I don’t know.

11) how long have you had a crush on them? what began it all?

SO! TIMELINE!

I was at my old school from September 2014-April 2019, I had C for the first time in September 2015. Like I mentioned above, I did not realize I had a crush on him until literally the middle of my final exam of my class with him December 2018, so I’ve only consciously had a crush for about two years now. However, as I also mentioned, I went out of my way to stop by his office, even when I didn’t have a class with him. And my relationship with/feelings towards him are complicated so I’m not going to say I did so solely because I like him, but I would put it maybe closer to somewhere in 2017. You don’t plan your schedule around someone you don’t feel strong feelings for.

12) do you believe you’ll get over them shortly after you stop taking their class/have the chance to spend time with them?

As of today, it has been been exactly a year and a half since I last him in person. In the time since, I have cried over missing him, routinely gone back to keep up with his current research projects, and made his picture a part of my home screen. I almost exclusively listen to the playlist I made for him - so much so my Spotify Wrapped is pretty much that playlist with a few extras.

13) what kind of grades do you get in their class?

Haaaaaa pre-supension I was failing his classes. My first semester back I got .... a mid/high 70? and I finished my last class with him with an A+ and the essay I had written for his class had the highest grade between the two classes so..

14) does your tc ever do any tiny, little things that you adore?

When he puts a hand in his pocket and leans against the wall. When he tucks his hair behind his ear because he keeps falling in his face (he has long hair, a little past his shoulders). When he can’t stop himself from googling something even if its in the middle of class. How you can ask him anything at any time. The way he would chuckle at my jokes. How his handwriting hasn’t improved in decades. How easily he brushes off toxic masculinity. His candidness and willingness to share little anecdotes. The way he used to always smile whenever he saw me. That he goes home everyday to have lunch with his wife.

15) are you their favorite student?

I was! And it was obvious to other students that we had a friendly, casual relationship too. For a time, if his other students had questions about him they would ask me, and I usually had the answer. I didn’t matter in the long run, but I was.

16) do you two share any tastes? movies, books, music, etc.

He’s a legal historian, I’m a baby legal/political historian. We also like the same historical cooking youtube channel.

17) is your teacher religious?

I doubt he would say he’s religious, but I feel like we have a similar relationship to religion which is to say no formal association, but had profound effects on our childhoods and subsequently, presumably, how we view things as adults.

18) do you masturbate to them?

Yes.

19) do you communicate with them outside of school?

I sent him a meme once. And asked about the socialist uprising scandal he was apart of. I also almost emailed him while at a museum exhibition with my history friend. These are all through email.

20) do you have any tc songs or songs you relate to your tc? what are they?

SO my number one song this year was “You are the Reason” by Calum Scott because, you guessed it, of him. But also:

I Lost a Friend - Finneas When You’re Ready - Shawn Mendes You Are in Love - Taylor Swift Break My Heart Right - James

& given the season, especially w/ what transpired last year, Last Christmas by Wham!

21) what’s your favorite thing your tc has said/memory you have with them?

One time he kinda trailed off in the middle of lecture after stating that he thought of xyz a particular way which contrasted one of the popular schools of thought, and the way he plainly said, “well, yeah, which I guess ... is I’m arguing it” almost like he was semi-surprised with himself has always stuck with me.

But also, in addition the memory I shared earlier, we spent an hour and a half talking about grad school and what to expect and how to get there.

22) do you plan to continue a relationship with them after you leave school?

I trid, I really did. But he doesn’t “socialize with students part or present” so I can’t exactly see him. But I did get some academic-related from him at the beginning of the year.

23) how will you deal during the summer? will you see him/her?

He’s a hermit who used my last vacation before I moved to go on all the vacations he had to postpone because he was working on his last book. And this past summer ... Covid. This question is obviously directed at high school students, but in general, he lives in the back of head always, and when I’m in my hometown for the summer my heart aches because theres a none-zero chance I’ll see him, but I know I won’t.

24) does your tc support gay rights?

Yes. He’s never been put in a position that I know of where he had to outright condemn homophobia, but in one of his classes, he actively made the choice to make the very first reading of the semester about how women in ancient times had more agency than assumed, and also how the woman in the case study was a lesbian.

25) what class do you have with them? And what period? Do you have them every day?

History classes. I won’t get into specifics because it’s kind of an eclectic mix and I’m paranoid someone from the area could come across this. But I had him twice a week every semester that I had him. Again this kind of question is more so applicable to high school students, not so much university students.

26) have you ever drifted out during a lecture thinking about them and missed information?

No. In his classes he is too enthralling, and I’m a good student otherwise.

27) have you stalked them online? what did you find out?

In theory. He’s a fifty-year-old history professor whose reaction to a description of the big lipped/tiny face filter on snapchat was “that sounds disgusting.” The man doesn’t have social media, and if he does those privacy settings are on so students can’t find him he thinks he’s very professional. I do visit his mini-bio section on the college website fairly often tho.

28) have you ever run into them outside of schools? what happened?

I did once. He introduced me to his wife, who said “oh you’re E! C has talked about you” and it apparently he had done so positively, and blew my mind because this was back when I was failing classes and also, as a person, I don’t believe that people think about me when I’m not there. They gave me a restaurant recommendation and afterwards his wife surprised me a they were leaving the restaurant because ... we had listened to them, and they also went there for lunch that day.

29) has your tc ever spoken of teacher-student relationships? what did they say?

It had recently come out that it had been found out that another professor had been in a relationship with a student and he’s the one that brought it up before class one day (with all of us not just me). He didn’t say anything for or against it, just that it was generally discouraged, but that most schools did have policies in place to handle the situation.

30) do you regret telling anyone about your tc? if you’ve kept it a secret, why have you done so?

Absolutely not. I can’t tell my best friends because they’d do nothing but give me shit for it and it would call every time I mention him into question. But the friends that I have told ... its been so freeing, and like a weight has been lifted from my heart. One friend in particular I unloaded on her all my emotional shit pertaining to him this past summer and she was so understanding it legit since then I’ve been less distraught when thinking about him. It still hurts, but it feels less like I’m suffocating now.

#personal #professor crush #professor crush community #teacher crush #monthly challenge #december

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moonydaydreams · 5 years ago

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𝐣𝐮𝐱𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮

Fandom: It Lives In the Woods

Pairing: MC x Noah, MC x Connor (past)

Words: 7.363 (holy cow)

Summary: Lightning never strikes the same place twice, but a second chance does. Even for someone like Noah Marshall.

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, angst 101 and swearing for dummies

Author’s note: This is my first Choices story and, holy cannoli, this is longer than I intended to be. But nonetheless, this an AU of what could have been had neither Noah or MC sacrificed themselves to take Jane’s place (THIS IS, IN ANOTHER WORD, A FORM OF DENIAL, Y'ALL. CAUSE THAT ENDING WRECKED ME) and Noah fled from Westchester. I’m sorry if the characters seem OOC or the story feels meh. So if you’re digging it or simply detest it, let me know, yeah? thanks!

———————————————————————————–

In a city where the subway stations smell like after-shave and peanut butter and jelly breath smelling college students at nine in the morning, and half of the street names that he still can’t recall to this day, a young man in a beanie, who couldn’t have been more than twenty or twenty-one enters a small 24/7 convenience store with his hands thrust deep inside his coat pockets.

A burly, beer-swilling, 6 feet of a man behind the cashier, elbow-deep in the football magazine in his last season’s Real Madrid jersey, glances up from his reading upon his arrival. His eyebrows narrow.

“Never seen you visiting this late,” Romero comments dryly over the trip-hop music that is playing over the speakers and flicked his eyes back to the magazine. “Did you accidentally shoot your dealer or some shit?“

Romero’s attempt on making small talks with him, albeit as condescending as it sounds, does not fall on deaf ears. But it’s cold outside and he’s hungry and broke, he simply doesn’t have the will to entertain him.

“Shut up. I’m hungry,” replies the young man, stopping by the instant food section. His eyes finding the many varieties of flavors and brands and feels his stomach sick at the amount of artificial food he’s been consuming over the years. It’s like being eight all over again.

“Well, knock yourself out. We just stocked up those crazy spicy Korean ramen you kids can’t seem to stop feeding.” Romero’s face breaks into a mocking grin. “Can’t wait to see you all die from cancer.”

“Instant noodles don’t directly cause cancer on its own, actually.”

Romero burst into laughter. “And how the fuck does a two-bit junkie like you know that, Malcolm?”

The boy’s face involuntarily twitches.

And it isn’t because of how alien the sound when someone addresses him with his fake name or how Romero somehow thinks he has his character all figured out. The thing about living in incognito for years, he’s already become accustomed to those; to prejudices and living up to the persona that people design for him just to inflate their egos and ward them off of his tail in the process. No one wants to affiliate themselves with “the junkie” or “the hot-headed mechanic with suicidal tendencies” and he is more than fine with his solitary.

No. It is the nature of the question that throws him off guard and how his mind all too soon, against his better wishes, refers to her.

Suddenly, he is Noah again. Thirteen years ago at the age of eight, looking out of the window with Jane as they watched a girl about their age in a short tutu dress and combat boots climbing up the oak tree in their backyard to save a distressed kitten.

Their parents saw this, did a double-take, went hysterical and called her parents. He later learned her name was Liz and that she’d just moved into the neighborhood a week ago.

Then he sees Liz again, now a few months after their first encounter, running off to the forest with Jane’s arm linked with hers. He remembers her messy braided hair and freckles multiplied by the sun as they led Noah and the rest of their friends to abandoned ruins they’d somehow stumbled on a week ago.

His memory of her somehow jumps forward. Now, he sees her in a different light, a different vignette. It is from three years ago this time and she was no longer the Liz all knees, elbows and mud on her shoes young girl from his childhood. She was Liz, on the edge of seventeen, her hair nine shades lighter than when she was a kid (she also had bangs now) with a barbed wire bat in her left hand, and a fire axe in the other, but still the same dark-eyed sprite that made his cold, dead heart skip a beat whenever she looked at his way and smiled that smile of hers; the kind that radiated her cheeks and lit up her eyes.

The same light that he watched slowly waning from her eyes when she discovered his ulterior plan.

His heart feels like shattering into smithereens all over again. He doesn’t realize he’s been squeezing on the noodle packet too tight until he hears the contents shatter in his hand.

“A friend told me,” Noah finds himself saying even before his brain can halt it. Staring blankly at the packet, his mouth dropping into a frown.

He can feel Romero’s gaze on him, curious and confused. Shifting between the packet in his hand and his glazed-over expression. Noah, realizing he’s just projected his emotion right out in the open, huffs and throws the squeezed noodle packet into his shopping basket.

Romero clears his throat. “Sounds like quite a friend.”

Noah pretends as if the jig isn’t exactly up and decides to actively ignore the older man. He gets the rest of his needs, holding the last of his composure against slipping and brings his groceries to the cashier, looking down at his feet whenever Romero glances at him in genuine concern.

“Catch ya later, Malcolm,” Romero says as he hands Noah the change. “And, uh… stay safe, you hear me?”

Noah, in return, only nods his thanks, probably a little too curt according to the polite society and leaves.

Outside, thunder begins to roll overhead. Noah eyes the sky nervously. It’s going to rain soon. And hard judging from the way the clouds are moving across the black midnight sky.

Noah rifles for his cigarette pack from his pockets, lights one and begins making his way back to his hellhole of an apartment. Treading slowly through the deserted streets, steering clear from alley-ways and suspicious characters until he can see the window of his apartment.

Then, Noah’s feet skid to a hard stop.

His jaw drops, his cigarette falling unheeded to the ground.

Sitting on the front steps of his apartment building is Liz, swathed in an oversized overcoat, her head leaning onto the railings, she seems to be sleeping.

What in the sweet fuck?

For a good minute, Noah stands stock-still. He simply gazes at his former best friend, nonplussed and borderline panicking. A migraine begins to form in his head. He gazes over his shoulder, watching and waiting for anyone to jump at him from the alley or anything, because there is no way in hell this is not a trap. This can’t be.

He waits and waits, but no one comes out. Confused, Noah looks at her again, his expression inscrutable. If this is not a trap, then this must be a cruel dream the universe pulls on him for all the wrongdoings he has committed in his life. That, or Noah must have tragically died on his way back home and ascended to heaven.

But then, if this is heaven, why is he here?

Eventually, Noah kneels before her. He reaches his hand out to her, hesitating mid-move and touches her shoulder.

“Liz?” he gives her shoulder a gentle shake. “Liz, wake up.”

She does. Slowly, her eyes flutter open, bleary and brown, and meets his gaze for the first time in three years. Noah feels like his breath stuck in his throat.

“Noah?” Liz blinks sleepily, twice, then yawns into the back of her hand. “What time is it?”

He glances at his phone. “A quarter past two.”

Liz’s brows furrow. “Huh. What were you doing out so late?”

“Had to do a supply run.” Noah gestures to the shopping bag in his hand. Then, “Liz, what are you doing here?” he asks, his voice a broken whisper.

Liz doesn’t answer his question, merely wraps her arms around herself, attempting to keep warm and sighs tiredly.

“Noah, can we go inside?” she pleas, instead. Desperation fuelling her voice. “I’m tired and cold and I…” she trails off.

Consideration flashes in Noah’s eyes for a moment. The logical part of his head insists for him to take her to the nearest train station and send her off back to Westchester. It’s the right thing to do. Considering that he’s been laying low for years now, the last thing he needs to add to his ongoing headache is for the police to suspect that she’s an accomplice.

But he’s never been the wiser one.

So, he takes her gloved hand and helps her to stand and, after giving one last look at their surroundings, of course, ushers her inside the apartment building.

Neither says anything as they make their way to the staircase, as they venture through the grimy hallway where the dim and shadowed lights overhead following their every step like vultures and past the occupied doors where a loud, sexual moan comes from behind one of them.

She doesn’t make any comment about the awful state of the place he lives in, while he simply doesn’t have the capacity to be embarrassed because everything happens so sudden, Noah himself is still second-guessing if any of this is real.

Finally, they stop by his door. Noah produces the key from his wallet when he hesitates, remembering the state of the room the last time he left it.

“A bit of warning, though…” He rubs his neck, embarrassed. “it’s pretty messy inside.”

“It’s fine.”

Noah turns the key and eases the door open.

The rain has started to pour. Noah turns the side lamp on and takes off his coat, his groceries on top of the kitchen counter. He watches as Liz, as if in a daze, tosses her coat and gloves to his bed and walks towards the direction of the window. A hand against the windowpane, the flare of the street lamp outside illuminating her features in the dimness, she silently watches as the rain falls on the pavement. Lost somewhere in the tangled cobwebs of her thoughts.

And it occurs to Noah that she is no longer Liz, on the edge of seventeen with a barbed wire bat in her left hand, and a fire axe in the other. She is Liz, older, with circles under her eyes, the world on her shoulders and a few pounds lighter than he remembers, but still the same dark-eyed sprite and with the pale shades of haired girl that he yearns to wrap his arms around and tells her how sorry he is for all those years ago, for leaving without saying a proper goodbye and how all these years it is her that keeps him going through every day and drives him insane at the same time.

But he can only remain in his place and forces to quell his desire to do the aforementioned. Because Noah’s pretty sure that privilege is long gone the moment his betrayal came to light. Even to be standing in the very room with her is a crime, yet here they are.

Here she is.

“Liz?“

“Yeah?”

“Have you, uh,” his gaze finds the ramen packets, suddenly feeling inspired. “Have you eaten anything?”

She is silent for a while. “No.”

“I’m making ramen, you want some?”

“Okay.”

With that, Noah rolls up his sleeves, takes two eggs and a few vegetables from the fridge and begins to work. He ditches the salty packet of MSG and makes his own broth while at the same time, mincing the garlic and green onion and grating the ginger. By the time he sautées the aromatics, Liz makes a beeline from the window and hops onto the counter, watching him distractedly as he continues cooking.

She stays silent and so does he. Despite the lack of words, everything feels strangely… domestic? Under different circumstances, Noah can easily get used to this; him cooking for her, with her becoming his taste tester whenever he’s experimenting with new recipes he finds on the internet and simply impresses her on a daily basis. Yeah, he can definitely get used to that.

Ten minutes passed, Noah then moves the ‘upgraded ramen’ to the bowls and serves one to her. The taste will probably pale in comparison to the one that her mom used to make, yet it earns him her first smile of the night, albeit small and closed-mouthed, it’s still a smile nonetheless.

He grabs two cans of beer from the fridge and moves onto the couch with her. They finish their meal within minutes, still in silence. For a moment, the only sound that encompasses the room is the rain and his next-door neighbor who has the TV going in full-blast. That asshole.

Noah reaches out for a cigarette pack from the coffee table, dexterously flicks his wrist so a single one pops halfway out of the carton. He casts her a sidelong glance.

“Do you mind if I…?” he trails off, gesturing to the cigarette.

Liz’s stare zeroes on the cancer stick, scowling, as if she doesn’t approve of this vice of his, but shrugs nonetheless.

“So, how, uh…” Noah clears his throat, gathering his courage. How does he do this? How do you break the ice with your former best friend who you happen to have a crush on for more than a decade and almost murdered because your dead twin sister compelled you to do so without being awkward?

“How are you, by the way?“ he manages to ask behind a plume of smoke.

“I’m doing okay,” she says but in a tone when someone is obviously not okay.

“Just okay?”

“I…” she hesitates. “Yeah, just okay.” Liz lies and manages a weak smile. Noah decides not to press for more information. “Though I’ve been busy these days. I’m trying to finish my dissertation sometime around next year.”

"Already?” And she nods. Noah whistles, obviously impressed. "I’m guessing you did take the English major?”

Liz’s eyes widened slightly. “You remember."

"Yeah.” Noah looks down. Of course he remembers, not when it’s impossible to forget the very idea of Liz Mortimer. “And your old man doesn’t try to fight you for this?”

“Nope. After Ja–” she clamps her mouth shut. “I graduated, let’s just say he had a hard time saying no to me.” She chuckles, but just for a good three seconds and Noah doesn’t have to ask why to know the reason behind her father’s sudden change of heart.

“How about you?” she asks, then shakes her head. “I mean, how are you?” She amends.

Heaven knows I’m always miserable, Liz. But he doesn’t say that. “I’m okay, too, I guess."

"Just okay?” Liz parrots his own words at him and he smiles, the left side of his mouth higher than the right. They may still be painfully awkward to one another, but it feels so good to be talking with her again.

“Nothing new under the sun for me, but I’m thriving. And, um, how’s the others?” a.k.a the bunch of group of friends I hurt.

“They’re alright. Lily started her own video game called Pixie Moon, which I have no doubt will take the world by storm the way Candy Crush did; Ava is writing a book about witch trials; Stace is studying journalism and basically kicking ass; Dan is pursuing psychology; His majesty King Kang himself is playing for the Bighorns; and Lucas, as you can expect, is off to save our earth.”

Noah swallows the information one by one. His face an inscrutable blank. All of his friends somehow have found a place on this earth, they all have moved on except for him, again, who’s still scratching around in the same old hole; his future derived, his past an endless pitfall.

“And Connor?” he asks quietly, when in truth he doesn’t give two-shits about the man. But he knows she does, and Noah loves her too much to let his jealousy dictate his behavior.

Suddenly, her face falls. Teeth chewing nervously on her lower lip. “He's… fine. He’s probably at home now as we speak.“

“And now you’re a long way from home.”

“So are you.”

Noah shakes his head. “Westchester stopped being my home the moment I turned eight.” He sighs forlornly, looks the other way, hands fidgeting. Force of habit. “Liz, as much as I’m glad to see you, but why did you come here?”

“How long have you been staying here?” Liz evades his question as if he never asked it in the first place.

Noah raises an eyebrow, exhales, but decides to play along. “Since August. So that’s two months. Probably, the longest I have ever stayed in one place.”

“Where have you been all this time?”

“Well, there was Utah and Kansas. Then Minnesota for a couple of weeks, but I couldn’t stand the cold and the rest is history,” he keeps his answer as vague as possible, not when he still has no idea the nature of her visit. “Look, why are you here?”

But still, the girl dodges his question. “Why do you–”

Until his patience can’t simply take it anymore.

Noah is all but scoots over to her position until their knees are touching, the cigarette forgotten on the ashtray, and grips her arms firmly. His eyebrows knitted as he takes in her stunned face.

“Liz.” There is a twinge of anger, confusion and desperation in the way he says her name this time. “Why are you here? You know you can’t be here. Goddamn it! If the fucking cops find out that you’re here…” Once he realizes what he is doing, he withdraws his hands as if she’s fire and now he’s burning.

“They won’t. I can assure you that."

"You don’t know that.”

“I know what I’m doing, Noah. Trust me, I wouldn’t have come here if I knew it’s not safe,” Liz replies, her tone doesn’t leave any room for doubts and he knows there is no way to talk his way around it. Not to mention, he trusts her, if there is anyone who can sneak behind authority and get away with it, it has to be her.

Noah shrugs, agreeable, but he isn’t going to let her off so easily.

“How did you find me, anyway?” he questions, reaching for his cigarette and takes a deep, long drag just to spite his throat. He has a feeling he might be smoking his misery away all night by the time she’s left.

The blonde-haired girl shrugs and absentmindedly leans her back against the couch, one arm wraps around her midsection. “It wasn’t easy, actually. But I made some new friends in Pine Springs and one of them is acquainted with the newly-minted Police Chief. Pulled a few strings and here we are.”

“Pine Springs? What the heck were you doing there?”

“It's… a long story. But there were people there needing my help, and in exchange, they helped me track you down. An eye for an eye.”

Lightning suddenly jags across the night sky, briefly illuminating the room, pulling him out of his musings. She jumps at the sound, startled, and instinctively reaches for his hand. Noah freezes at the contact, forgetting how her skin feels like on his or a decent human contact in general. It’s been so long. And somehow he loses the ability to speak, to think.

He definitely doesn’t think when Noah moves his hand under hers, intertwining their fingers together.

Noah feels her head moving, her eyes darting from their joined hands and to his face that turns into a parade of expressions– misery, regret and melancholy. The holy trinity of feelings he’s been bearing for the past three years– for the past thirteen years of his life, actually– and feels her hand squeezing back his.

“Christ, I can’t believe you went all through that shit just to find me,” he croaks, all but on the verge of tears. “And I left you just like that even without saying sorry.”

“Noah…”

“No, let me say it, Liz. I need to say it.” His hands are trembling, his composure this close from crumbling. “What I did was unforgivable. And I know there is nothing in this world that could help me undo the damage I’ve done to you and how I’ll spend the rest of my day regretting it, but regardless, I’m sorry,” he sobs, his whole body is shaking by now.

“I’m so sorry for the nightmare I put you through. I was so blinded by my own volition and revenge for Jane’s death that I hurt you, all of you in the process without giving a single rat’s ass about it.” Noah pauses, wipes his tears with the back of his hand. “I’m a monster, Liz. A selfish, heartless, miserable monster. God, I should have died that night.”

“Hey, hey, look at me.” She plucks the cigarette from his other hand, discards it on her empty bowl and places her other hand on his shoulder. “Noah, look at me,” she says again, her voice like a caress. He looks up. “Don’t say that. You are not a monster. You’re just a byproduct of the pain from losing your sister, loneliness and bad parenting. That doesn’t make you a monster. That makes you human.”

“A normal human being wouldn’t lure his friends into abandoned ruins in the middle of a fucking forest where his sister died and put their lives hang in the balance.”

“No, they wouldn’t, but if there is anything Dan taught me is that people react to loss in different ways.”

Noah groans and pushing himself to his feet. “No, don’t try to find a way to justify this. Didn’t you forget, I could have killed you that night. You! The- the only one who gives a fuck whether I’m breathing or not.” The only one who matters. “If you hadn’t stopped her… God, I don’t even want to go there.“

She gets up from the couch as well. “I’m not justifying anything. Yes, what you did to us was… It was harrowing, it was despicable but I also knew the extent of your agony that drove you to do it. I understand… and like what I said that night in the cave; it’s not your fault. Not exclusively, at least. And I forgive you for it.”

“Liz–”

“No, listen to me, we all made mistake–”

He snorts. “Not on a grand scale like this, I bet.”

“Maybe not. But the fact that you give a shit and beat yourself up for years for what you did, that already speaks a lot,” she says. “You’ve tormented yourself enough. It’s not going to do you anything good. It’s not going to erase anything. What you need to do now is to close that book. Get a new one, write a new story, move on. I have forgiven you, I’m sure the others have forgotten about what happened until someone mentions it, it’s your turn now.”

Her words hit him like a piledriver and for the first time in probably like forever, he does feel slightly better. Even if only an infinitesimal amount and even he may won’t be forgiving himself anytime soon, but still, hearing those words coming from her mouth mean the whole world to him.

“Why did you really come here, Liz?” The question is a tad out of place, but it feels like their previous conversations were made entirely to build up for this.

Her frown melts away, replaced with somewhere between doubt and conflict. He holds her gaze for a minute, undeterred, then she turns her back on him to face the window once more. The suspense gnaws at him, yet still, he bides his time.

“I have something to tell you,” she finally says, keeping her voice low.

“What is it?” He replies rather impatiently. When she seems to be hesitating, he adds, “And don’t beat around the bush, Liz.”

A deep breath, foot taps, a hand clutching at the hem of a buttoned-up dress and another deep breath.

“Connor proposed to me.”

A beat. Then,

“Oh,” and it’s barely audible. And Noah feels like his heart has been torn from his chest, thrown into the ground, drags it through the mud then stomps on it for good measure. And that he feels worse and emptier than he was before she came here. “Congratulations.”

The words that come out of his mouth could have been his, because he can barely hear his own voice in this white noise. He always knew Connor and her were smitten with each other the moment she stepped into the hardware store for the first time, but Noah doesn’t expect it all would extend to marriage.

She looks over her shoulder, half-turned, one eye on him. “I wasn’t finished.”

Noah blinks at her, momentarily confused. “What?”

“I…” her voice wavers. When she turns to face him again, she is pinching the bridge of her nose. Her eyes scrunched up. “Ah, fuck this is never going to be easy. Long story short, I freaked out, made a scene at a restaurant, ended our three-year on-and-off relationship and went here.”

“Wait, what?”

Liz shrugs, guiltily, all Atlas-and-the-weight-of-the-world.

“Yeah,” she, much to his surprise (and concern), chokes a laughter, manic and loud. “Yeah, I did it. I fucked up the longest relationship I’ve ever had and broke my best friend’s brother’s heart because I wasn’t ready, because I’m an idiot.” When she does look at him, her eyes are bright. “Because I’m in love with someone else.”

For a brief, candid moment, Noah’s brows furrow as his mind goes to one of his former friends. Is it Dan? Ava? Or could it be Lucas? Because the last time he saw them together, they were pretty inseparable– although their relationship is strictly platonic as far as he’s concerned. Has that dynamic changed after he left?

Then Noah realizes her eyes are still on him– and quite expectantly, that is, and that’s not… no, that can’t be right, can it?

His demeanor shifts drastically as he stands there, stunned silence. Disarmed by her confession.

He tries to speak, but his jaw won’t shut back to its place; his brains short-circuiting.

“Yes, I have loved you ever since I’ve known you, Noah Marshall,” Liz mutters when he remains silent. He can tell this is something she’s been holding in for a long time. “Even though we hadn’t spoken to each other for years after Jane, there hadn’t been a day that I didn’t think of you. When we finally reconnected three years ago, I wanted to say all these things to you, but..” she smiles wistfully. “Well, shit happened.”

“Why?” Of all the people you could have fallen in love with, why me? What he means to ask.

“Because you understand me like no one else; because you climbed up to my window to bring me your homemade grilled cheese sandwich when I was grounded when we were 8; because you actually listened and showed me that my vulnerability doesn’t always have to be my weakness; because I love the way you wear your beanie like 24/7 and the way you shake my hair whenever I say something stupidly amusing to you. Because it’s you!”

“No.” It’s a denial, it’s an attempt to ward her off from someone like him. It’s a lie. “No, no, no, no, no, Liz, you can’t fall in love with someone who’s-who’s mentally unstable or tried to kill you in the past, that’s like…” he gesticulates wildly. “Crazy! You are crazy!”

“I’m sorry, are you any better?”

“Of course not! But to forgive me is one thing, Liz, to love me, that’s a whole different level of insanity.” Noah begins to pace agitatedly around the room back and forth. “Fuck. I can’t hear this. Not from you.”

“Why not?” He sees the hurt expression on her face. Then interrupts just as soon as he opens his mouth. “Noah, I’m not asking for your answer this instance–heck, I’m not even asking you to reciprocate my feelings, but please don’t invalidate my emotions. Not when I waited for years to say it to you.”

“But this fucking complicates everything!” Noah points out.

“Maybe. Maybe not, but you don’t know that,” she says resolutely, echoing his words from before.

Noah doesn’t say anything in return.

She steps closer and slowly raises her palm to cup his cheek, an attempt to calm the storm within him. His hand grasps her wrist before she can make contact.

“Noah–"

His breathing quickens. Noah swallows and shakes his head.

“Liz, we can’t do this. No matter…” he sighs, his eyes boring into hers. Here he is, again, dangling on the edge of damnation, of what’s right and wrong. It’s wrong, yet he knows that she knows, from the heat and electricity that dance between them, from the pressure of his fingers that tell different stories, that he, too, wants the same thing.

“No matter what, Noah?” She murmurs, staring up at him with hopeful eyes. She really wants him to say it, does she?

He extricates her hand from him, taking steps back, putting as much distance he can from her. “Forget it.”

“Look, Noah, if you feel what I think you’re feeling, then what is it that you’re afraid of?"

Noah whirls around to face her again. "Everything! Can’t you see that if we do this, the world will turn against us?"

“Since when do you care about other people’s opinions?”

“I wasn’t worrying about me.”

"Well, I don’t give a fuck what others or this thrice-damned world thinks!” she exclaims mulishly. “After all we’ve been through, is it so wrong to be selfish, to follow your own heart just once– just once? Is it– don’t you care about what you want?”

“I want-” Noah stops. His hands tugging at his red beanie cap. “Never mind what I want.”

Her voice is quieter now. “What do you want, Noah?”

For an interminable moment, heavy with the promise of both release and regret, he only stares at her. Contemplating his options.

Perhaps loving her shouldn’t be the sin he thought it was, especially when she wants the same thing in return. Although he’s more than aware that he’s the last person in this world who deserves her affection, but deep down, Noah knows that he’ll never forgive himself if he didn’t run the risk now and spent the rest of his life wondering what it felt like instead.

“You.” Always you.

She holds his gaze. “Then have me.”

And as if an unknown force was taking over his body, Noah crosses the distance between them, his free hands cradling her face, drawing her close and kisses her.

It’s like a dam breaking, everything floods out. They do not kiss gently, desperation orchestrating their every move that the world around him grows distant and dim. Twelve years of pining for each other, of secretive glances, of murder attempt and mutual misery and it all leads them to this. His thumb skimming the curve of her throat and feels her pulse leaps. He stops. Worrying if he’s crossed the line.

But Liz grabs the front of his clothes, pulling him even closer– as if they aren’t close enough– and kisses him back with a matching fervor. Her body pressed against his, warm and unfamiliarly familiar, and Noah swears his heart skips when she emits a quiet desperate noise that he happily swallows.

Suddenly, Noah pulls back. “Liz, I’m sorr–” he says breathlessly.

“No, don’t you dare apologize,” she says firmly, her lips still tinged pink from their kiss. “I… I started this.” Her tongue darted out over her lips. “Are you okay with this?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I want this.” Noah’s hands dropped to her waist, his cheeks burned. He’s inexperienced, yes, and it shows, yes, but this is Liz. The last thing she does is to laugh at his face about it. “You?”

“You have no idea.”

His cheeks grow redder. “I’m, uh… now what?"

"I think,” she leans in, tiptoeing, her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders and playfully says, “I want you to kiss me again.”

Noah grins, more relaxed now knowing he has her consent. “I think I can provide that.”

He let her set the pace this time. Kissing him softly and sweetly, but as equally mind-blowing as the first time before the next thing he knows, they are kissing senselessly once more; the next thing he knows, she swipes her tongue on his lower lip. Drawing a surprised groan from him. His lips instinctively open up to her ministrations and he is rendered weak when Noah feels her warm tongue delves into his mouth. He tries to follow her example, but can hardly navigate through his own mind every time.

He can feel her fingers toying and tugging his beanie off, her nails grazing his scalp and his desire rocketed. And this time, Noah isn’t afraid to act, as his hands on her waist slowly glide upward; from her hips to her ribs, stopping just under her breasts which results in Liz’s breath to hitch in his mouth. His mouth travels down her jaw, the length of her neck, her collarbone.

When he finds himself on the bed, on his back, and Noah has absolutely zero clue how or when he got that way.

He sits up. Without thinking, grabs her hips to pull her onto his lap, hands rough, settling her against him as he tips her head upward and continues his onslaught on her neck. Her hands on his shoulders, coming up to the strands of his hair. Encouraging him, guiding him lower and lower until his mouth reaches her clothed breast.

“Oh my god.” Liz’s eyes closed in pure bliss, caught up in the sensation, and ground her hips against him and, fucking hell, the friction feels so good and erotic and sets his entire being alight that Noah isn’t fast enough to stop the low, rumbling moan that comes from his mouth.

“Fuck,” Noah swears and rolls his hips in response. At this rate, even if he wants to, he can’t hide the evidence of his physical desire, growing hard against her, making her produce these small high-pitched gasps every time his bulge brushes her just right, her pupils blown to hell and fucking fuck.

He is dry humping Liz. Liz. His sister’s best friend. His Achilles’ fricking heel. Good fuck, if Jane was still alive, what would she say about this?

“Noah?” She whispers.

He doesn’t realize he’s been lost in his own thoughts. “Sorry.” Noah mentally clears his head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to space out on you back there.”

She stares at him, seemingly unconvinced. “Did I go too far?"

"What? No, no, you are incredible. Don’t worry.” To prove his point, he gives her thigh a distracting squeeze. “Liz, what if I say I want more? What if I say that I want you?”

Liz is quiet for a while. “Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I know the last time we met I said I wasn’t ready for dating and stuff, but it’s you. And if you’re up for it, I’m game, but if you–” Liz chuckles at his stammering. Whispering “You’re fucking adorable” as Noah groans and hides his face on the crook of her neck. “Liz, you’re fucking driving me out of my mind here.”

“Well, I’m game.” Liz leans in and kisses his temple. Noah can practically hear her smile from here. “You know, for someone who seemed adamant on pushing me away, you’re awfully eager.”

He grins, running his finger down her spine until every hair in her body stood up. “Keep teasing me, and you’ll regret it, Mortimer.”

“Bite me, Marshall.”

Noah does bite, literally, on that delicious spot under her ear before flipping her onto her back on the bed, making her giggle like a drunken schoolgirl; making her dress hike up to her thigh, just enough for him to see her underwear. He settles himself atop her, right between her legs. His hips and an unmistakable hardness press firmly against her soft thighs.

This is it, then. The wheels are in motion now and Noah can scarcely believe this is happening.

She props up on her elbows and begins undoing the buttons of her dress with great speed, eyes never leaving his until she pulls him for another searing kiss. Then Liz raises her legs, wrapping them around his waist and rolls her hips once more.

She moans softly, as Noah’s mouth trails wet kisses down her throat, nipping and sucking as he goes, until it finds its way to her nipple. He bucks up into her, growling, as he takes her other nipple in his mouth. His shaky hand makes to drop her legs away from his waist, yanks the hem of her dress upward and dips between her legs, slipping past the waistband of her underwear to touch her that she jolts, gasping and moaning loudly altogether.

Liz writhes, her hands clutching onto his sweatshirt like a lifeline, head tilted back as her hips involuntarily move against his hand, desperate for relief. Noah inserts two fingers, watching with heated gaze for her reaction as he pumps in and out, long and slow, short and fast. Pushes deeper, crooks his fingers a little. The rough pad of his thumb rubbing her clit in fast circles until her moan grows increasingly loud and she comes hard, shattering into Noah’s fingers.

When it’s over, Liz is a panting, limp noodle. She lays there, properly spent, smiling contently at the ceiling with heavy, bedroom eyes. Noah hovers above her, kissing her nose with a newfound satisfaction as he watches her trying to even her erratic breaths.

“Whoa.” She breathes out. “I guess I should have known those hands weren’t made only for kitchen knives.” And lazily wraps her arms around his neck. “Jesus, I’m wasted.”

His teeth gently nibbling her earlobe, his hand teasing her nipple again. “I’m nowhere near done with you.” Fingers trailing down to her warm, still over-sensitive slit again that Liz shudders like a flower. “Not even close.”

“I can’t–” And Noah freezes, thinking if he’s gone too far. “No more foreplay. Fuck me, Noah. Now. Please, I want you.”

In an uncontrolled frenzy, Noah pulls away from her, removes his sweatshirt while Liz assists with the buttons of his shirt. He works on his belt, freeing his member from the tight confines of his jeans and pulls her panties over her knees. Not bothering with the rest of her dress.

They kiss again as he repositions himself above her. Liz’s hand reaches down to grab him, guides the head toward her entrance, her legs once again settling around his waist.

In his head, Noah mentally prepares himself, counts to five, then slides his girth into her. The two groan in unison at the joining.

“Jesus fuck.” Noah’s head flops forward, jaw clenching. He is inside her, and it feels a dizzying kind of spectacular. “Fuck, Liz, you feel so good.”

Below him, a crackling gasp escapes her lips, her mouth drops into a perfect circle as her head falls back to the bed and looking oh so beautiful. Noah begins to rock his hips into her, the strands of his brown hair brushing against her damp forehead, the parts of his brain that enable him to think slowly shut down. His hand wanders to touch every part of her body.

Everything is on fire. Everything feels so fucking good.

“Look at me.” She does, through lidded eyes, lashes heavy with arousal. “Say my name.” Noah never really thought he would be this vocal in bed, but there’s just something about Liz that brings this side of him. “Say it, Liz.”

“Noah,” Liz moans his name, clinging to him like mad, nails raking his back. “Noah, shit. Faster.”

Noah wordlessly obliges, liking the way she thrashes underneath him. Her breaths coming faster, higher so he moves even faster, pounding into her with reckless abandon just to show her how much strength he has. He finds himself growling rather animalistic against her skin, biting her shoulder. Feeling himself drawing closer and closer to the edge. He isn’t going to last any longer.

He puts a hand between them to rub her clit and Liz’s eyes roll back.

“Ooohh, god. N-noah!” she cries out, her words quickly morphed into a desperate wail. "Don’t stop, don’t stop, oh, please!”

Liz is a blubbering mess, screaming against the pillow. It is too much. The combination of his cock fucking her mercilessly and the friction his fingers provided on her sensitive spot is enough to make the girl convulse pathetically on the bed.

When she comes, he follows not long after. Going rigid and groaning gutturally in her ear, emptying himself inside her.

When the ripples have passed, Noah collapses on top of her. Both panting and sweating from… whatever is it that just happened between them. Liz cradles him against her breasts, peppering tired kisses to his hair that is now sticking out wildly in every direction, locking him in her embrace, their left hands intertwining.

They stay like that for a few minutes, in a very much comfortable silence since she first set her foot here before Noah rolls to the side on the bed.

“Holy shit, we just had sex,” he says when he’s regained the power to speak again.

Liz chuckles and turns to face his side, sticking one of her legs between his while he pulls the covers over their forms. “Yep. Though, honestly, I never would have thought we’d end up having sex when I came here tonight.”

“Liz, I didn’t even know you’d be coming over. I can safely say tonight has been one hell of a surprise after another.”

She doesn’t say anything. At least not for a while.

“I hope you know I meant every word that I say to you,” she says kindly. “You’re not the villain in the story, but neither you are the hero. You are human, with your flaws and all, and I love you despite all of it.”

“Except you. You are an angel, Liz.”

“Noah, I basically turned down Connor’s marriage proposal, broke up with him and went straight into your arms in a matter of days.” She sighs guiltily. “No, we all just wear our demons differently.”

“Maybe. But you said it yourself, we are all just humans with our flaws and all. But you,” Noah turns and cups her cheeks in his hands. “you will always be an angel in my book. You saved me, Liz. When the whole world raised their torches and forks on me, you freaking saved me where you could have fed me to the mob. You’re the reason why I’m still here today and I love you for it, you hear me?” He pulls her into his arms when a tear starts to fall from her eye.

“I’m so in love with you, Elizabeth Mortimer. Always have and always will.” He kisses her cheek. “You’re the kindest, most beautiful, the brightest human being I’ve ever known. I’m the luckiest person to have you be in love with me and if you’re up for it, I want to build a world around you.” He adds, “Instant noodles included.”

Liz laughs, still teary-eyed, shoves him playfully on the shoulder, feigning a glare. “You jerk. Always have the flair to ruin a moment.”

Noah chuckles. “Technically, you love instant noodles, so it’s only right, don’t you think?” She shoves him again. “And I’m your jerk now.”

“My jerk.” Yet she says it the same way someone says ‘my love’. “I love you too, Noah Marshall. And I want to build that world together with you.”

Noah smiles. Because he loves her and because for the first time in forever, his life makes fucking sense.

Yes, he doesn’t know whether their relationship will last or will it crash and burn in the future, but at this exact moment, he’s happy and it seems that she does too. And that is all that matters now.

And if there is one thing that he’s sure of is that he knows that he doesn’t ever want to let this go. Not in a million years.

#playchoices #it lives in the woods #it lives anthology #it lives choices #noah marshall #noah x mc #choices #choices stories you play #choices fanfiction #choices it lives in the woods #ilitw #ilitw mc #pixelberry #choices ilitw #my writing ye #mine

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florbelles · 4 years ago

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❄️🔪🍂 for Lyra! Had to go ahead and get the sad one out of the way first, because I've come to accept that it is simply part of the Lyra experience whenever I ask these things. (The date is June 17, 2020 and I still have not recovered from "yes, darling, I know he's dead, do you think that makes me love him less?")

thank you lovely 💕 when i said i’d answer this in five to six business days i was fully joking but i’m pretty sure it has now in fact been five to six business days. embarrassing

❄️ What makes your OC sad, so sad that they can’t help but cry all day? How do they cheer themself up? Does their sadness upset any of their loved ones too?

we’re gonna subvert expectations, no dead husbands shall appear in this answer! 💕

lyra would tell you it's cheap whiskey and gas station sushi and hope county street style, but honestly, she just desperately wants to be liked and loved and accepted, so rejection in any form -- from anyone, even those sinners and nonbelievers, even her sworn enemies -- wounds her. (she’s really out here at 3am like john? john are you up? because i don't think hurk sr likes me, he was extremely rude today while i was threatening him in his home)

(the rest is going under a cut because tolstoy has nothing on me. tw for references to lyra typical self-destructive behavior, drug, sex, alcohol, serial murder mentions)

having said that, it doesn't normally affect her -- she doesn't care or think enough of most people for it to have a lasting impact, and it just increases animosity and disdain where it already existed. when it is someone she cares about, though, or comes from someone who’s meant to care about her, it's emotionally devastating.

the most extreme instance came in the form of her parents disinheriting her when she was 16 years old. it was a formality more than anything else -- she was nearly 17, she’d run off the year before and cut off all contact -- and in many ways she’d expected or even attempted to deliberately provoke it, since it would force them to acknowledge what she’d always known, that they didn't see, know, or care about her. it was impossible for them to love her; her father was a narcissist who prized her insofar as he could project onto her as a version of himself, and her mother was so far gone on designer drugs she was apathetic to nearly everything else, her unwanted trophy daughter most of all.

still, receiving confirmation in the form of a notice that caught up to her while she was crashing at one of her favored ex girlfriends' family home -- that they went to that effort just to ensure she knew they no longer recognized her as their daughter -- gutted her. later she’d say that it was what she’d wanted, that they were already dead to her, and thank fucking christ she wasn't a member of that sick miserable family any longer. in actuality, she locked herself in the guest bedroom, curled into herself on the floor, and cried for three days straight.

and then she stopped.

she doesn't get cheered up, honestly, she just has to go through straight through it. if there's an action she can take or vengeance she can exact somehow, she’s eventually able to drag herself out of the comatose state she goes into when she’s grieving; lyra feels everything very deeply, so she’s physically crippled by emotional pain in a way that she never is by external injuries. (break her leg and she’ll drag it behind her, but if her heart’s broken, she won't walk for a week.) because of that, she absolutely tries to fight emotional pain with physical pain -- she doesn't self-harm in a direct way, but she does seek out risky or destructive behaviors (trysts in back alleys with strangers, binge drinking, drug use, getting in fights, reckless driving) until she finds somewhere else to channel that energy. god help anyone who's in her way when she does.

🔪 Has your OC ever killed someone? Ever had to defend themselves against violence? How did this make them feel? Or, alternatively, has your OC ever attacked someone? Seen someone die?

no, lyra has never killed anyone in her life, why???

she killed seven men before she came to hope county. the first was a known predator at the strip club where she worked when she was 18 -- she propositioned him and then stuck a knife in his throat.

she fully believed that she was acting in defense in all seven instances, albeit not necessarily her own. each of the men she killed were especially dangerous or vile predators/abusers/otherwise corrupt and exploitative who were considered untouchable -- to the law, maybe, but not to her. (she never killed the relatively harmless philanderers who made up most of her targets; she just seduced, robbed and humiliated them).

her last kill before she flees to montana -- the reason she flees to montana, in fact -- is the man in idaho, and it’s a huge fucking mistake, one that almost gets her caught. it’s messy and impulsive and she does it because she’s shaken up and triggered af from her recent vegas trip. she’s fully spiraling. like this can't be it, this can't be all there is, this can't be all i am, this can't be all that's left for me, and part of her Wants to get caught on a subliminal level; some part of her Wants to die just to have an end. she’s tired. she’s jaded. she was at that gas station where she found him in the first place buying two bottles of tequila, but then she could just Feel the way he watched her and kind of hovered over her and she just. left the bottles on the counter and followed him out the door and stalked him for deadass fifty miles until he finally pulled off at a truck stop.

that and her first kill mirror each other in that they weren't calculated and she did it in a Rage. she was purely driven by anger and hatred and adrenaline, she was shaking, her body just completely Flooded itself and so honestly? she’s a little hysterical about it -- both times she started to sob at first and then she just. laughed, she couldn't stop laughing, and that’s the only time she’s truly afraid of herself. usually she doesn't feel anything but relief and vindication when she kills; she’s doing it for a reason and she believes she’s justified so she doesn't feel any haunting guilt. she’s like this is what i am, this is what i can do, this is how i can be good even though everyone has always told me i was born bad -- maybe i was but maybe i can use that, maybe i can do what others can't

obviously in the holy war of 2018 she kills Hundreds of people, both heretics and defecting (or potentially defecting) peggies. she doesn't feel remorse about any of that tbh, she never will. she was protecting her family, it's not a question to her, it's not something she has to think about

🍂 What are their opinions on the different seasons? Which one do they hate and which one do they love and why?

lyra loves the summer best. she always has. as a girl, summers were when she was home and could at least pretend her family wanted her, and if nothing else, she could go run free and become a menace on the island. she first ran away in the summer, she found her home in hope county in the summer, she fell in love in the summer.

(also homegirl's wardrobe is like. entirely sheer dresses with high slits and bare arms and plunging necklines she floats through life in silk and tulle and lace and strappy stilettos and she’s happiest in the sun out lying in a meadow or wading through the river or leaning out the side of her car with the windows and/or top down do you really think this bitch thrives in the colder months)

she’s a daughter of spring, she was born mid-march, and she does love it -- she’s a flower hoe, she likes watching the world come back to life and the smell of blossoms in the breeze and the crisp air in the mornings

same with fall, she loves her bonfires and hot coffee and her furs and her cider. she got married in the fall, the best months of her life were in the fall. she lost her heart in the fall. she dies in the fall.

winter can go fuck itself

i jest she thinks the snow is pretty aesthetically and she likes holiday events & attire & traditions and mulled wine and chestnut praline lattes and her furs are lovely and expensive and she might as well break them out, but the cold is Not her friend and neither is the snow. like. does a bitch look like she shovels. do you think she owns snow boots, do you think she owns thermal clothing, no she does Not so overall winter gets like a 2/10

#answered #risenlucifer #oc: lyra fairbanks

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themusicplayedherlife · 5 years ago

Text

Take a Chance (Domesticity)

pairings: steve rogers x reader

word count: 2k+

warnings: fluff, like legitimately pure fluff

a/n: this has been in my drafts for a while now, but I hadn’t felt comfortable posting it until now lol @forevans gave me the idea of writing a chapter that had more to do with steve and reader rather than them and the baby, and hopefully I did this justice ;w; anyway, let me know what you guys think!

summary: steve rogers and you go to the farmer’s market and steve enjoys his time with you.

prev|| all ||next

“Go away.”

He chuckles when you pull the comforter back over your head. “Come on, it’s time to get up. You said you’d come with me.”

He’s come to learn you’re not much of a morning person since you’ve moved in—waking up late on the weekends and barely waking up on time for the weekdays. He just didn’t know it would be this hard to wake you up. It’s like fighting with a toddler to eat their vegetables. He wonders if Shrimp is going to have your stubbornness or his? Maybe a mix of both? Or right in the middle?

“This early?” comes your muffled reply from under the blanket. “On a Saturday?”

“Yes,” he says, patting the lump that he hopes is either your leg or your back, if he’s touched you anywhere else, he’s afraid you might rip his arm out of his socket. “Come on. You said you wanted fresh flowers from a local florist, and you agreed when I gave you the details.”

“Is Bucky coming with us?” you ask. “If he is, I’m not going.”

He chuckles, knowing exactly why you’re asking. Any time Bucky comes over to pick him up for their Sunday jogs, you would complain about their combined high energies being too much for you. And Bucky takes full advantage of it, enjoying annoying grumpy you in the mornings, knowing that you wouldn’t give him the same reaction after you're more awake. “He’s not, I promise.”

The lump moves and you drag down the comforter. He’s greeted by your adorable face scrunched up and eyes narrowed in his direction. You’re trying to be intimidating but it’s cuter than anything and he can’t help but chuckle. He doesn’t stop laughing, not when you get up and shoot him another glare over your shoulder, or when you peek your head out of the bathroom to tell him off.

Yeah. He definitely wouldn’t mind if they had your stubbornness.

The morning wind whips around them--it’s full of sweets and fresh flowers, and local cuisines. In the distance, a guitar plays its song, accompanied by a smooth crooning voice. Maybe he should take you after a little bit of shopping to check it out, it'd be a good break.

“How are there so many people here already?” you mumble, maneuvering around the crowds of people picking out fresh produce, a few bartering with the vendors.

He looks back at you and sees you falling behind, and he can’t have that. He holds his hand out for you to take, and you look up at him, eyeing him warily.

“I’m not going to hold your hand like a child, Steve.”

He wants to protest, remind you that you’ve held hands more than once and you’ve never seem to mind before, but that’d probably spike your need to wave him away. He settles on rolling his eyes and shoving his hand in your direction once more. You stare at it for a moment longer, and finally your fingers smooth over his, and without missing a beat, his fingers slip through yours.

Your hand is small in his, warm and soft; fingers always seem to rest between his so easily, no fussing or fighting, always natural.

Tugging you closer with a gentle pull, he leads you over to the general area he knows the florists to usually set up in.

You’re mumbling something under your breath—Spanish, again. He’s definitely going to have to brush up on his high school Spanish. Maybe Bucky and Tony would be willing to take some classes with him, or maybe he can ask your sister or mom to help him? And isn’t there a bookstore around here? He can probably find some language books while you're both here. Getting some toddler books would be nice too.

It’s not hard to find the stall he was looking for—it’s bigger compared to the others, full of varieties and even out of season flowers. He spots the familiar faces of Doreen Green and her mother behind the stall, wrapping up bouquets and greeting customers with their friendly smiles.

“Is that really a squirrel wearing a pink bow and handing out flowers,” he hears you ask, confusion and disbelief laced in your words.

He follows your line of vision and spots Doreen’s red squirrel handing buyers orange flowers, every single person thanking the little thing and leaving with a wide smile. It’s practically the reason their stall is so popular. “It is,” he confirms. “Her name is Tippy-Toe.”

Without any warning, you’re dragging him over to Tippy Toe, a barely concealed squeal leaving your lips. You’re gushing over the squirrel who seems to be thrilled by your attention, handing you one of the orange flowers.

Doreen finishes with a customer when she notices him, her brown eyes growing wide. “Mom, Steve’s here with a girl!”

He flushes at the sudden attention from the people around them and Doreen, but he should’ve known this would’ve happened. He just wishes it hadn’t. Thankfully, you’re too busy making cooing noises at Tippy Toe to pay any attention to them.

Her mom pauses in wrapping up a bouquet and hands it off to an employee to make her way over to you and him, a wide smile on her face. “Would you look at that? Stevie! And who is this lovely lady?”

Tippy Toe moves away from you to jump onto Doreen’s arm and climbs up to perch herself onto her shoulder, briefly hiding in her dirty blonde hair before poking out again.

You snap your gaze to Doreen and her mom and introduce yourself.

“My fiancé,” Steve adds on, ignoring the bewildered stares thrown his way.

Doreen is the first to react, squealing happily and scaring Tippy Toe off her shoulder and back onto the table. “Oh my gosh! Congratulations!”

You clear your throat. “Thank you?”

“Oh! I’m so happy for both of you,” the older woman says, clapping her hands together, “This is such good news! Is this why we haven’t seen much of your mother, Steve?”

He squeezes your hand gently. “Yes, she’s been helping with the wedding and everything.”

“Hey, boss, I brought back some of those shrimp tacos you like so much,” an employee interrupts. “Brought back some veggie tacos for you, Doreen.”

They thank him in unison as the employee places two trays down and away from prying eyes, but it’s too late. You’ve already caught a whiff of them and Steve can practically see you salivating. “Those smell so good.”

“Oh, would you like one?” Her mom offers, but you shake your head.

“No, no, it’s okay.” You turn to him unsure. “But, uh, do you mind if we get some after this?”

He can’t help but laugh. “Didn’t we just have oatmeal with strawberries?”

“Yeah, but I’m eating for two now, Steve. And Shrimp loves shrimp!” Oh, he knows. He’s already picturing all the weird cravings you’re going to get later in the pregnancy. Shrimp with chocolate? Maybe with mayo?

A gasp cuts off his laugh, his eyes snapping in the direction of Doreen and her mom.

Doreen leans forward on the table, her eyes wide as she pleads with you and him, “Can I babysit for you guys when the baby is born? I promise you I’m really good with babies! There’s this couple from Harlem who always ask me to babysit their little girl, Dani, and if you guys need references I can totally ask them for one and—“

Her mom guffaws, reeling her back.“Woah, there, Dori, their baby hasn’t even been born yet!”

She takes a deep breath and exhales. “Sorry, just got really excited.”

You giggle, the sound bubbling out of your throat, surprising him. “If we’re ever in need of a babysitter we’ll keep you in mind.”

Doreen flashes you a wide smile and she gasps again. “You guys wanted to buy some flowers, right? What can we get for you?”

It doesn’t take long for them to make your requested bouquet, and when he’s about to pay, they wave him away. “As a congratulatory gift!” They had said, sending you off on your way, but not without another flower from Tippy Toe and a “don’t forget to invite us to the wedding!” from Doreen as you walk away.

“They’re sweet,” you say, lifting the arrangement of flowers to your nose. “Maybe we can hire them for the wedding?”

You say it so quietly that he almost convinces himself he hadn’t heard you correctly. But the quickening of his pulse and your uncharacteristic shy smile is proof that he did. This is probably the first time you’ve taken the initiative to think about something for the wedding without someone asking you to. It’s almost like… like you’re actually looking forward to that day.

You turn to him, eyebrows furrowed and lips down turned. “What?”

His lips curl up and widen as he takes your hand, shaking his head. “Nothing. Come on.”

“Weirdo,” you mumble, but you squeeze his hand and the two of you continue down the rows of stalls.

Arms laden with flowers, fresh fruits and vegetables, and sweet honey, you look for a place to sit and eat your tacos. He watches as you hum and eat, a chuckle escaping his lips before he can stop himself. You blink up at him mid bite.

“Sorry, you just make the tacos look appetizing,” he explains.

“They’re pretty good,” you tell him with a shrug; then you’re offering him the taco, one hand pinching the ends of the tortillas together and the other hand under it to stop any of the filling from falling onto the table. “Want a bite?”

Steve blinks and you nudge the taco forward again, enough for him to take a bite of it—the corn tortilla melts in his mouth, the shrimp and cabbage coated in seasoning and some kind of dressing ignite his taste buds—it’s spicy, but not unbearable, just enough to make his tongue tingle pleasantly. “It is pretty good!” He answers your expectant gaze, mouth still full with the bite he took.

“Told you!” You grin triumphantly and pull the taco away to finish it off without much thought.

He doesn’t know why that causes heat to rise to his cheeks or why his heart thumps harshly against his rib cage. He’s seen you share food like this with Vicky and your sister, sometimes even your mom, and Natasha and Wanda. But you’ve never shared food with him like this. So… why?

He doesn’t get to think about it too much with a voice calling his name. “Steve!”

A familiar face greets him with a smile and a wave, and Steve hops onto his feet excitedly. “Clint! Hey! When did you get back?”

“Hey, man!” Clint greets him. “About two days now!”

Before they can hug, a Labrador retriever jumps on him with an excited bark.

It takes all of his strength to keep upright. “Lucky! Hey, boy!” It takes a couple of pats and smooches to get Lucky to sit, but then he catches sight of you and tugs Clint forward, surprising both of them.

You’re quick to crouch. “Hey, there,” you coo, running your fingers through Lucky’s fur, and you let out a laugh when he surges forward to lick your cheek.

Clint’s eyes shift from you to him in surprise.

He rubs the back of his neck as you stand. “Uh, Clint, this is my fiancé,” he introduces you and then turns to you who is staring at his friend with curiosity. “This is Clint Barton a friend from college.”

“Nice to meet you,” you greet him politely, offering him your hand, but you’re taken aback when Clint wraps you up in a hug instead.

He grins at the bewildered expression on your face when he releases you. “I’m a hugger,” he explains. “Congrats. I’m invited to the wedding, right?”

“Of course,” he reassures his friend after a nod from you. “Why didn’t you tell us you were back?”

“Was waiting to settle in before I got in contact with everyone.”

“He moved to California after graduation,” he clarifies to you when he sees the confusion on your face.

You tilt your head in response, leaning back down to pet Lucky. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Clint confirms. “Lived in Sacramento for work.”

“Oh,” you perk up. “I’ve been there a couple of times.”

“Really? Did you ever go to…” Steve watches on as you and Clint start naming places from Sacramento, and warmth spreads in his chest seeing you get along so well with another close friend of his.

As he and Clint catch up, you occasionally pay more attention to Lucky than their conversation. The dog sits at your side cheerfully as you run your fingers through his coat, tongue lolling out of his mouth. You both look pretty content.

Clint grins at him—a wild grin. One he recognizes from their time in college. It usually meant trouble.

“What?” He asks warily.

He only shakes his head, but his grin remains the same. “Nothing. You just look happy.”

Steve relaxes. “Yeah?”

Clint’s eyes narrow fondly, nodding. “Haven’t seen you like that since you volunteered to help design and paint that preschool mural in our third year. Remember that?”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I remember.” How could he forget? He had been excited when the organizer, an old classmate of his, approached him with the offer. It was the last time he got to paint before he met you.

“Have you been painting lately? Or too busy trying to build a sentient robot?”

Steve laughs, his hand falling onto his chest at Clint’s words. “Is that what you think we’re doing?”

“You never know with Tony.”

“I see your point.” Lately Tony has been working on an AI for the office and for home use with more use than SIRI and Alexa, so if he really put the effort in to it, Tony could probably build a sentient robot if he wanted. Thankfully, he won’t. Steve’s eyes once more stray over to you and Lucky, your face practically stuffed into his golden fur as you give him back scratches. His lips twitch. “But yeah, started a project recently.” He wonders if you’re going to like his surprise.

Clint’s watch beeps and Lucky is immediately on alert. “It’s time for us to go.” He stands and Lucky trots to his side obediently. “It was nice seeing you again,” he says to him before turning to you. “And it was nice meeting you.” You smile at him and agree. “Let’s get together soon!” he says, turning his back on you both and calls for Lucky—the two of them jogging back to their home.

He hums. “We should get going too. Unless you want to walk around a bit more?”

You shake your head and smile at him. “I think we have everything we need.”

The two of you walk back to the car, arms full with everything you chose at the market, but he still keeps one hand free to hold yours.

“We should get a dog,” he says absentmindedly, his mind suddenly alight with the image of you and your interactions with Tippy Toe and Lucky. “Adopt one like Clint.”

You laugh, eyeing him. “Is a baby not enough for you?”

He chuckles, swinging your arms back and forth as you walk back to the car. “We don’t need to get a dog now, but maybe later? Once Shrimp is old enough. They could be best friends, look out for one another.”

You purse your lips, thinking it over before your face melts into a smile. “That sounds nice. I’d like that.”

His face mimics yours, and he can feel his lips twitching as they move into a wide grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you confirm, squeezing his hand.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #steve rogers reader insert #reader insert #marvel imagine #take a chance

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moonlightjinko-kun · 4 years ago

Text

Sparks

YAY I finish in time for D7 of @atsukyouweek!

Characters/Pairing: Nakajima Atsushi & Izumi Kyouka // Atsukyou

Genre: Angst with a happy ending

Rating: General

Prompt used: Free day! - Fairy AU (potential Winx AU)

Word Count: 3k+

Summary: Kyouka was a young girl with magical powers and the potential to transform into the Fairy of Lightning. She was playing in her secret cave when a thunderstorm happened, terrifying her. Atsushi came running to the cave to look for her.

Read it on AO3!

A/N 1: The result of me binging Winx Club all the way to Butterflix (bless me idk what season that is, but I hanged on for the unicorn) made me want to do a fairy AU, but I have no idea what other fairies are like so I made a Fairy AU with references to Winx.

The afternoon sun hung in a cloudless blue sky, beating down on her mercilessly. Kyouka squinted into the sun, and found herself smiling. The weather was hot but perfect for a trip down to their special cave. She trekked the familiar path across the forest, a melodious hum flowing from her. The trees grew close with their limbs stretching in every direction to form an interlocking canopy overhead which provided her a temporal shade from the relentless sun. The short trek through the forest brought her to the mouth of the tunnel, and she wiped away the sweat that had beaded on her forehead before stepping into the tunnel.

A draft of wind blew from ahead, cooling the tunnel. She took small and soft steps, not wishing to disturb the silence in the cave. A familiar soft glow emanating from ahead served as her guidepost, leading her closer to her spot - a small rough rock outcropping which served as a small ledge fit for two. The tunnel opened up ahead to her spot and she took her seat. Her legs dangled freely in the air as she took in the magnificent view ahead of her. Crystals of varying shapes and sizes grew on the rocks, illuminating the small cavern with a soft hue of blue. A sense of calm swept through her, and any tension and stress that she had felt throughout the week faded.

She conjured a small ball of bright white light in her palm and flicked it to the middle of the cavern. The light from the ball fizzled and crackled as it reflected on the crystals close to it, and there was a burst of rainbows stretching and filling the small cavern. With another flick, the ball drifted down to the floor of the cave, to the spot where she knew the prettiest rainbow would form. It took a second but the ball never failed. The arc of colours stretched from the cave floor, reaching to the top of the cave, cutting through the soft blue hue from the rest of the crystals, a beautiful mix of colours with the soft brightness of the blue. She felt her lips tug up in a small smile at the beauty of it. The perfection in the arch of the rainbow and the soft glow had stirred a wistful desire in her for him to be here to see its perfection – her masterpiece, before it disappears.

-ackkk.

The sound was faint, but it had caught her attention. She froze, her legs stopping in mid-swing and waited, hoping that the sound would not return.

CRACKKKK.

With all her attention on it, she heard it clearer now – the distant crack of a thunder. She shifted back into the tunnel and turned to look back down the way she had come. She heaved a sigh of relief at her realisation that she was too far from the tunnel mouth to see the flashes of lightning. She looked back to the cave and saw that her rainbow had disappeared, leaving the cave bathed in a blue glow again. The unnaturalness of the blue glow brought a slight prickling over her skin as uneasiness crept up on her. Images of the past few days of practice flashed through her mind - the bluish glow to her mother’s bolt of lightning and her own reluctance to shoot a bolt of lightning, her mother’s clear disappointment and her cowering under her blanket. She stopped herself there, not willing to see the next image that came, and pulled her knees to her chest, burying her head in them with her eyes and ears closed.

Time ticked by. The roar of the thunder had been replaced by a soft patter of rain a while ago. Her eyes darted to the mouth of the tunnel and she contemplated if she should take the risk and dash back home. She swept her gaze across the small area, while she weighed her options. If she waited the storm out, at least she would be -

“KYOUKA!”

His voice was loud and it echoed down the tunnel to her. Her gaze flickered back down the tunnel, but the tunnel was too dark to make out his silhouette. She strained her ears, and heard a faint tread of footsteps coming her way.

“ARE YOU HERE, KYOUKA?” He called again, his voice reverberating in the tunnel. The echoes sounded frighteningly eerie, yet it did not mask the concern in his voice.

“ATSUSHI! HERE!”

She stood up and waved wildly. She could make out a dark silhouette some distance ahead of her. He ran down the tunnel, his footfalls loud and hurried in the tunnel, as he called out that he was coming. She felt some of her uneasiness slipped away as he slowly came into focus. He stopped in front of her, his breathing short and raspy.

“Glad… glad you’re … okay,” he croaked out between breaths.

She forced the tear of relief trapped in her throat back down and nodded. Atsushi stood to a side, clutching the wall, as he sucked in deep breaths. His wet hair was plastered to his face, and he trembled slightly from the cold. His blue cape was dripping droplets of water into the ground, forming a dark wet patch. With his breathing finally steadied, he pushed his hair back and drew his hand across his face, wiping it as dry as he could. His eyes met hers and a sheepish grin formed on his face.

“It’s just a little rain, don’t worry, ‘kay?” He paused, his eyes shifting to the glowing space. He took a few steps ahead and stopped at her spot. “It’s still as beautiful as the first time we found it, huh?” A small chuckle followed his words, as he stared off into the space.

She joined him and flicked her hand. The small ball of white light appeared again, fizzing with energy as it hovered in mid-air. The change was quick, and a few small rainbows stretched out from the crystals near the ball. She heard a sharp indrawn breath of awe from him and felt a slight grin tug at the corners of her mouth. Her eyes closed for the moment, listening to his steady breathing and his soft ‘wow’. Her eyes flew open at a slight touch on her hand and shifted down to see his hand resting against hers. Slowly, she closed her hand around his, the heat of her hand warm against his cold hand. Like he was snapped out of a reverie, his gaze turned and locked onto hers. The flash of surprise in his eyes was quickly replaced by what seemed to be shocked happiness, and then embarrassment. There was a tinge of pink in his cheeks and she could feel a flush heating her own cheeks too. An awkward silence stretched out between them as she fixed her eyes on him. Even with his head turned now, she could hear the cogs in his brain working up something to say, and she waited, wanting to give him the chance. She heard a low muttering from him, and bit back a question that was already forming on her lips.

Atsushi took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “Um, actually, I came back to the kingdom, because um… I needed to tell you something.” He paused for a moment, and took another deep breath. “Kyouka, I like you. Will you come -, no wait, will you be my –”

The rock underneath her feet started to vibrate, its intensity increasing by the second. She looked around and saw the cave shaking. The cave was rumbling and vibrating with an intensity she had never felt before, and as the ledge they were standing on quaked even harder, she heard it - a loud crack. In that split second, she felt a hand shoved her backwards and her hand reached out blindly to grasp only air. She stumbled back into the safe confines of the tunnel with her hand still outstretched. She waved the swirling cloud of rock dust away, and looked over the edge. Her eyes went wide with horror.

“Atsushi!” She cried out, before she leapt down after him.

―――――

There was a dazzling flash of bright light above his eyes. He saw her, a transformed fairy now, flying towards him with her hand outstretched. He could hear her shouting something, but he was too stunned to react as he continued to fall. “She’s beautiful…” was all he could think of as he stared blankly at her outstretched hand, now inches from his. He could just reach it if he stretched. She was still shouting something at him, though it was getting clearer.

“-my hand, take it! DAMN IT, ATSUSHI!”

Something in her voice jolted him, and he found himself stretching his hand out to meet hers. He felt her hand clasped around his, followed by a sharp pull, arresting his falling momentum. His eyes darted around wildly at the realisation that he was inches from the cave floor and that Kyouka had saved him again. He gazed at her with gratefulness in his eyes, as she set him down on the ground below before falling to an exhausted heap beside him.

She was gorgeous in her fairy form. Her outfit was a simple yellow ombre off shoulder dress with sparkles that shimmered, and it was completed with an orange ankle heeled boots. Her dark blue hair flowed to her waist and a white headband with what seemed to be golden stars sat atop her head. But it was her wings which drew his attention. The wings were a translucent blue with what seemed to be an intricate pattern of forked lightning paths along the edges of her wings ending with a ball of light at each tip. She looked ethereal, like an angel from the heavens descended onto their kingdom to grace him with her beauty.

“What? Atsushi, stop staring.”

He turned away, a blush warming his cheeks. “Sor-sorry. Didn’t mean to.”

She heaved a sigh. “It’s fine. Give me a minute to catch my breath.”

“Okay,” he paused, realising what it was that he had heard from her voice. “Sorry for scaring you, and, and thank you for saving my life.”

Her breathing was loud in the silence that followed, as she settled them into regularity.

“Please, don’t, don’t ever do something like this again.” He heard the trace of fear in her voice, despite her clear efforts to suppress them.

He nodded and took a glance at her. Though she hadn’t complained, he could see the exhaustion in the sagging of her shoulders. He looked up to the small hole, where they had been earlier. It was high, and it would take her some effort to get them both up. He had to look for an alternative way out of here instead of exhausting her even further.

“Kyouka, can you stay here for a moment?” Her eyebrow arched upwards at his request. “I’m just going to take a quick look around, and see if there’s any other way out. I’ll be back in a mo-mo-, what?” He had stopped at the frown on her face.

“I’ll just fly us up later. Just let me rest a little first.” She answered in exasperation, while she shifted to lean against the face of a rock that was jutting out of the ground.

“But-” he started to protest.

“Atsushi, if there is no other way out, you’re going to tell me to just fly up on my own right?” His eyes went wide at her words. “As I expected. Well, I’m not taking no for an answer, okay? So, come sit here for a moment.” She patted the ground next to her, a wide but tired smile stretching her mouth, and he found himself settling into the small space next to her.

His gaze slid to her and he heard a voice in his head nagging at him to ask the same question he had asked her every year. The question tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. “Kyouka, do you want to come to Alfea next year?”

A moment of silence followed his words as she furrowed her brows in thought. “No.”

Surprise flitted through him at her answer. “Kyouka, but… but you’ve earned your fairy form! You should come –“

“No. I don’t want this power, I’m just-“ Her words trailed off into silence.

“Just what?” He prompted tentatively.

She bit her lower lip, and withdrew her knees to her chest. She locked her gaze with his, as though hoping to see something in them. When she spoke again, her voice was soft like a whisper and with a hint of uneasiness. “Just… just that I’m scared. I never liked the lightning, and it’s as if the heavens are playing a cruel joke on me by giving me this power. It’s like I’m being punished for what happened back then, that horrible day.”

She looked so small and vulnerable with her eyes closed, cowering in her own fear. He knew of that day, and he knew of her fear. What she hadn’t realised was that she was the one who had saved him that day. Her mind, too young to process the horror of that day that had unfolded in front of her, had sealed the memory in its deepest corners and in doing so, she had suppressed her own magic, limiting it to a small lightning ball. That was what the Queen had swore him to secrecy about a few years back. He looked at her shuddering small frame, and realised that he can no longer keep this a secret. He knew he had no rights to reveal it to her but she deserved to know. With his mind made up, he shuffled toward her to close the short gap between them and put his arm around her.

“Kyouka, listen to me for a moment, okay?” He paused. “That day, you didn’t injure anyone. You saved them.”

She shook her head. “Lies.”

“Kyouka, listen. I was the boy you saw!” There was a sharp intake of breath from her. He held up his hand, and continued, “The lightning... it’s trajectory, it was about to hit the tree I was hiding under. I saw the people running towards me, shouting at me to run towards the bubble that was floating towards me, but I was too scared to. My legs had turned weak, and I fell to the ground. I was so scared of the bolt that was to come, and I closed my eyes, thinking that it was the end. But the bolt never came. Do you know why, Kyouka?” A smile stretched across his face as he looked at her.

“Me?”

He nodded. “Yes, somehow, you, who had been watching the whole thing from the window, had subconsciously directed the lightning away, shooting it to the next tree. The queen had been so shocked when she saw it, but before she could even say anything, you had cried into her arms, and try as she might, she could never convince you to believe otherwise. It was like, you had sealed yourself off to the truth.”

“My mother? So that bolt, it never killed-?”

“Never. The bubble reached me in time and it shielded me from any other lightning attacks on my way back into the palace.”

A shocked silence followed, and he could see her face scrunched up, her mind processing the information he had just revealed,

“But why did she stop telling me about it? Did she lie?”

Hesitation slipped into his voice. “I think... I think she just wanted to protect you. You didn’t want to remember it, and she didn’t want you to hurt anymore, so....”

He let his words stretch into silence, giving her the time to think.

“Atsushi, I can’t say I definitely want to go to Alfea, but if I do… will you… will you help me?”

“Of course, that’s what, us, specialists do.” A smile entered his voice as he patted her.

“Even… if I lose control and become too scared?”

“Especially then.”

“What if… a storm happens and I’m… I’m too scared?”

“I’ll go to you and stay with you until you feel better.”

A small chuckle came out from her. “Are there no rules in Red Fountain?”

A laugh entered his voice, as he replied, “Well there have been seniors who have done it, so I don’t see why I can’t. I’ll risk it.”

Their laughter rang in the resounding silence, filling the small cavern. He looked at her to see that the fear and uneasiness from her had dissipated. He gave her a small pat on the head. “Kyouka, we should go.”

She nodded and got up. He took her hand and she carried them up past the remnants of the ledge and into the tunnel, stopping a short distance away from the mouth of the tunnel. There was another flash of light and she transformed back. Kyouka waited for him to stand before asking, “Ah, Atsushi! I just remembered, what were you about to ask me? You know, before you fell?”

His cheeks flushed red and he walked away quickly, mumbling, “I don’t remember!”

“Atsushi, hey, Atsushi!” She ran the few steps and caught him by his hand, pulling him to a stop. Her voice was a silky whisper as she teased him.. “The answer is yes, by the way.”

She ran ahead, laughing, stopping at the mouth of the tunnel with a bright smile on her face. He stood frozen in shock, his eyes locking with hers as a flush of heat warmed through him.

“Atsushi!” She called from where she stood. She looked so beautiful with the sunset framed behind her, the last rays of the sun stretching to reach her, bathing her in its remaining glow. Her smile was wide and bright, it was as if the storm in the day and the uneasiness she had felt earlier had not existed. She was like a ball of happiness and joy now, waving and smiling at him. He liked that about her, being able to smile with so much warmth. He ran up to her and pulled her into his embrace, just as another shower of rain fell upon them.

A/N 2: Thank you for reading to the end and I hope you enjoyed this! Likes and comments are always welcomed, and I would love to hear any thoughts that you might have :3 This is the second AU I did for this week that I really like and I'm so tempted to make Kyouka be a fairy with Sirenix transformation (yes I am changing it to a winx au probably and taking out Believix)

#bungou stray dogs #atsukyouweek2020 #atsukyou #atsushi x kyouka #nakajima atsushi #izumi kyouka #fairy au yes #atsushi with a sword #ATSUSHI WITH A PURPLE AND YELLOW SWORD #AND A FKING DRAGON #Kyouka as an enchantix fairy #KYOUKA ENCHANTIX #CINFICS 🎀

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breakingbadfics · 4 years ago

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Death of the author

CW: Light discussion of politics, mentions of the Alt-Right, and White Supremacists.

Consider this a “Change of Pace” entry. I’m trying to figure out what the next essay is to be about as well as the eventual long term for this blog.

I wrote this essay back in mid 2019, long before the idea of this blog would come to mind, it’s been lightly edited prior to posting and added to. and I think this essay shows some of my influences much more heavily than my other writings.

What does My Little Pony and The Matrix have in common? Death of the Author.

Death of the Author is not to be confused with “Separating the Artist from the Art,” a self explanatory concept to distance a work from a creator who’s beliefs are more than a little unpleasant, easiest example is acknowledging that, yes, H.P. Lovecraft was a Mega-racist, however, his contributions to the horror genre have created a base that is nearly ubiquitous with the genre to this day, like wise with Orson Scott Card. this concept in itself is an especially controversial subject, but is not the focus of this piece.

Death of the Author is what allowed The Matrix, a movie with a collection of metaphors about being an lgbt person, and an activist for the rights of yourself and your allies to be grossly misinterpreted as a way to justify being a bigot, the most egregious misinterpretation being that of “The Red Pill Scene.”

In the context of the film, The Red Pill Scene is the part of the traditional heroes story where the hero “accepts the call”, Neo is quite literally making the choice to leave the safe world he’s been living in behind and embark on his adventure that will result in a death and rebirth into being The One who will save humanity. In the now very much understood to be the direct metaphor, it’s a scene in which Neo, the stand-in for a lgbt person, specifically a trans person, is being told by a much older lgbt person “You are trans, you have the choice to embrace it, but regardless of what choice you make from here on out the road ahead is going to be bumpy and rough on you, because the system around you is designed to make sure people like us aren’t able to prosper, and if you join us, you won’t be able to opt out.”

That is the very understood metaphor that most people accept with the modern understanding after The Wachowski’s came out as Lily and Lana in the “post-matrix trilogy” reality of the real world.

However due to the Moral Neutrality of Death of the Author in other circles the Red Pill(and all the other metaphors in the film) takes on an alternative meaning. And I can be “polite” in my explaing the bad take on how this scene plays out, but just to hammer the point home we’ll get dirty so you can know where the take is coming from, The Red Pill Scene for White supremeacists, and The alt-right (but I repeat myself) is such. Neo, a disgruntled white person is being told that the world is controlled by soulless machines. Jews, people of color, etx. Everyone around him is mind controlled and can and will attempt to stop him from saving the people smart enough to also realise they’re being held captive by non-whites and save them all. This of course, all being told to him by Morpheus, a black man. So have fun working your head around that.

This of course the most extreme example being the most ubiquitous, poke around on chan sites and sooner or later you’ll see the phrase “red pill” having been memetically adjusted to mean “hey tell me about this thing” or even more specifically “I already had an opinion about this but either way I want you to confirm my choice.” But I digress.

These two interpretations are so wildly on the opposite ends of the spectrum that the only commonalities between them is “You will likely need to be violent at some point”

I’m naturally only covering the two interpretations, the matrix itself has been picked apart by an untold number of people and people interpret it in as many ways as possible in terms of philosophical meaning. That is the nature of Death of The Author.

Death of the Author also covers in a round-a-bout fashion, selective canon, a subjective acknowledgement of canon elements throughout a long lived franchise- see; Star Wars, Star Trek, the belief that there was never any sequels to The Matrix. This variant of the philosophy allows one to be able to continue interactions with a text, specifically a text that consists of multiple volumes (or contributions, each one made by an individual author) but also deny interactions with parts that they personally dislike.

More often than not, you can attribute the death of the author to a bad take in a case of fiction, another primary example being Fight Club, often missed for the scathing critique of unhealthy male behaviour and propped up as some sort of moral guideline for how to live your life. Which is again, not to say this is the fault of Death of The Author as a philosophy, it is morally neutral, these bad takes can more often be attribued to the simple fact that unless directly stating it most attempts at satire or parody will have a contingent of people who agree with what is said, not what is meant, and death of the author unfortunately does make that..very easy, for good, or ill.

Where does My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic fit in with all this? Well there are certainly alt-right members of the brony fandom who are painfully missing the point, but we’ve already dwelled on the negative enough, so let’s get happy.

In Episode 1 of Season 1, the first part of a two part pilot, in the background of a shot during a party scene; a pony with a grey coat and blonde mane and tail is seen in the background. This particular pony stood out the most amongst other background characters due to a mistake caused by the animation staff. According to the supervising director at the time, this particular error was spotted after hasbro greenlit the episode for air, and because it amused him he chose not to order a correction so it was left in as a nice little easter egg.

The nameless background pony would eventually be caught by 4chan among other places and very rapidly developed a following of fans and given a nickname, Derpy Hooves. This particular following and new nickname would echo back to shows staff becoming the name internally referred to by the show’s staff.

Friendship is magic creator Lauren Faust, who also enjoyed the popularity of the character when asked in an interview would state that a character named Ditzy Doo existed in an unaired episode, that would be implied to be this particular background pony, So naturally now depending on the fan this particular character would be reffered to as either Derpy Hooves, or Ditzy Doo.

Ditzy Doo would go on to become a recurring easter egg with in the show, something similar to that of “where’s waldo” but with horses. This practice would continue until episode 14 of season 2 where the character would have a set of spoken lines and would be addressed by name. This however resulted in a degree of controversy in which some people expressed concern that the presentation of the character was an offensive attempt at portraying people with mental or physical disabilities. This event resulted in the episode being altered in future airings and the character disappearing from the show for the vast majority of Season 3. Beyond Season 3 the character would continue to appear until season 5 where they would finally have a voiced role in the 100th episode of the show, and then eventually having another speaking role in the christmas special “The best gift ever.” It is also worth noting that Hasbro never gave her an “official name” with almost all of Ditzy’s merchandise either having no name present, or more often than not a singular image of a muffin in place of a name, even going so far as to have “Muffins” be the credited name she was given in all voiced instances of the show.

Muffins, Ditzy Doo, or Derpy Hooves isn’t the only case of background characters growing a large following of fans with in the show; a variety of characters have been swept up by the fans, given names and personalities built entirely out of bit gags. Lyra, Bon Bon, Vinyl Scratch, Octavia Melody, and who knows how many more have all been seen in background moments which would be built on by fans and then echo back into the staff to be integrated into the show further. One would say this is fanon but at the end of the day, the writers and show staff had very little more intent with the characters beyond “does this background character look good?” and “Does this bit part character stand out enough to automatically be recognizable for the bit they need to be doing” it is still what I believe to be an example of Death of The Author, an act of choosing to ignore the intended meaning,and giving what amounts to window dressings a full life as fleshed out characters in fan content and in small instances of the show; an interpretation separate from the writers original intent.

Now the question is does someone need to actively defy the author to participate in The Death There-of? No. I don’t believe so. In much the same fashion no one need actually be a clan member to inadvertently say or do something that's passive aggressively racist(yes a bit of an extreme, I know) one need not actively defy the author, merely ascribe to an alternate interpretation of a work of fiction. Refer to Fight Club, the film does everything it can with out directly stating “most of the people in Fight Club and later Project Mayhem are bad people, because they were already doing the things Tyler Durden was ascribing to” and almost unilaterally all the bad takes are built around this idea that they’ve achieved the perfect ideal masculine because they’re the “living in the moment, violent psychopath” nihilist the movie is actively condemning.

The simple fact is that death of the author ultimately, in a grand scale amounts to this; did a writers intent show through hard enough for their intent to be heard? And Subjectively, how much does a person believe in the meaning that they, or the writer themself have imparted into the story?

#change of pace

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robinskey · 5 years ago

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Lover (Steve Harrington x Reader)

A/N: GUYS as you’ve probably noticed, I’m incredibly excited about the release of @taylorswift‘s new album. IMO, Lover is one of Taylor’s best songs to-date, and I thought it would fit perfectly with a fluffy, domestic Steve one-shot.

Warnings: Mild language, heavy fluff. Story under the cut.

We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January

This is our place, we make the rules

And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear

Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?

It wasn’t until you and Steve moved into your first home together that you realized how deeply in love he was with holiday decorations.

You had started the process of moving your belongings into the new place at the end of September. By mid-October, Steve had begun pestering you about shopping for Christmas decorations. You reminded him that you hadn’t even unpacked the last box yet, and Halloween hadn’t even occurred yet. Steve was persistent that you needed to get the lights up as soon as possible to “maximize the Christmas spirit.”

After a lot of convincing, Steve had finally agreed to wait until November. By then, you figured, he’d forget about it. I mean, this was the guy who couldn’t remember his social security number and occasionally wrote it on his stomach (“because I’m not dumb enough to keep it on, like, my hand, Y/N, where everyone can see it.” When when you suggested he just carry his social security card with him, he told you he didn’t trust himself not to lose it.) Surely, that guy would forget all about it, right?

Wrong. On November 1st, you were nursing a Halloween-candy hangover when Steve dragged you to Goodwill. You returned home with enough decorations to light up a mansion and spent the rest of the afternoon stringing them all around your tiny one-bedroom house. After dinner, you and Steve headed outside. As the sky faded to black, Steve wrapped an arm around your shoulders, and he watched in wonder as your small townhouse transformed into a winter wonderland.

“Look at that, Y/N! We did that,” he said. The various colors of the lights reflected in his eyes as he gazed down at you.

“I didn’t know King Steve Harrington could get so excited over Christmas lights.” Your smooth teasing was foiled by a strong gust of wind that left goosebumps on your arms and caused you to shudder.

“I’m full of surprises,” Steve said as the two of you started back towards the front door. “For example, you probably didn’t know, but I can make the best cup of hot chocolate in the state of Indiana.”

“Oh, really?”

“Oh, yeah. Grandma Harrington taught me her secret recipe.”

Even though you’d known Steve for years, you learned new things about him every day. You wondered if you’d ever run out of things to learn about the boy you’d known all your life.

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

And ah, take me out, and take me home

You're my, my, my, my lover

We could let our friends crash in the living room

This is our place, we make the call

And I'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you

I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all

Dustin Henderson started referring to your place as “our house” before you guys even moved in. He dropped by several times a week with updates on the newest happenings at Hawkins Middle or questions about how to handle a Suzie situation. At least once a month, Dustin crashed on your couch after a weekend movie night.

On one occasion, you and Steve returned home from a date night to discover half a dozen adolescents gathered around the television in your living room. A curly-haired kid carried around a bag of chips in one hand and waved cheerfully with the other. He flashed his infamous toothy grin, which you met with a half-scowl, half-squint of confusion.

“Dustin? How did you get in here?”

Dustin spoke through a mouthful of Doritos. “My mom dropped us off. And then I used my key.”

Your glare switched targets. This time, you directed it at Steve. He clamped his hand down on his face; you weren’t sure if it was to avoid your gaze or express his frustration.

“Dude, I gave you that key for emergencies only.”

“This was an emergency!” Dustin threw up his hands, sending an army of cheesy corn chips into the atmosphere. After falling back to earth, bright orange triangles wedged themselves into your new white rug. “The season premiere of our favorite show is tonight, and we didn’t have anywhere to watch it.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. Your eyes scanned over the gang sprawled across your couch, armchairs, and carpet. Judging by the boxes of candy and cans of soda littered across the floor, Dustin must have raided your pantry. Apparently, the kitchen wasn’t the only place he infiltrated, since almost your entire linen closet was spread out over the living room. Lucas and Max shared the recliner beside which Dustin was currently standing. Will sat on a pillow with his back against the coffee table, his attention still focused on the television screen. You turned your attention to Mike, who was curled up next to El under a crocheted blanket you’d received from your grandmother.

“Doesn’t your family have a TV, Mike?”

"Yeah, we do, but my mom kicked us out so she could watch a soap opera or some shit. She and Nancy love that crap.”

Nancy.

That name ignited the flame of jealousy in your chest. You knew it was totally irrational; she and Steve hadn’t dated since high school. They’d both moved on-something Nancy did almost instantaneously. Steve had told you the whole saga of their mostly-one-sided relationship, and you were fairly certain Nancy never really loved him.

Still, Nancy was Steve’s first serious girlfriend. She was the first girl-the only girl, other than you-to whom he’d said “I love you” and meant it. Nancy was, and would always be, Steve’s first love. There wasn’t anything you could do to change that.

“Y/N? Hey, babe, you good?”

Steve’s voice jolted you back to reality. You shook your head slightly to clear it, then nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

You pretended not to notice the way his mouth twitched downward slightly in concern.

“Great. So we can stay?” Dustin interrupted. The hopeful gleam in his eyes was too much to resist.

“I guess,” you sighed, earning a chorus of triumphant “yeah!”s from the kids. “Your show’s probably about over by now, anyway, isn’t it?”

Dustin furrowed his thick brows, as though that was the most blatantly incorrect assumption you could have made. Lucas let you know that “it doesn’t even start for three more hours.”

“Won’t that be, like, midnight? Your parents aren’t going to freak out if you come home at two in the morning?” Steve asked.

“Actually...” Dustin drew out the word until he finally ran out of air. Then, he spoke the next few words in one breath. “We were hoping you’d let us spend the night here?”

You and Steve exchanged glances. Between your schoolwork and Steve’s work schedule, the two of you hadn’t been able to spend as much quality time together. You’d finally both managed to secure a responsibility-free night and a cheesy rom-com to watch while cuddling on the couch. (Steve pretended to hate those movies, but he almost always teared up at least once during the show.)

None of that mattered now, though, because your boyfriend could never say no to his favorite child-or so you thought.

Steve scratched the back of his neck. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye before saying, “Actually, Dustin, tonight’s not the best night for a sleepover. Y/N and I kind of had plans.”

Lucas raised his eyebrows suggestively. “Plans, huh? What kind of plans?” he said, earning a smack on the arm from his girlfriend.

Color rose to your cheeks; Steve picked up a pillow someone had haphazardly tossed on the floor and launched it at Lucas’s head. Instead of hitting its intended target, though, the cushion collided with Max’s face. Ever the hothead, the ginger quickly contorted her neutral expression into a deep frown. She chucked the pillow back toward Steve with tremendous force, along with a few other throw pillows. Only one actually hit Steve. The rest rained down on you.

And, as a mature, homeowning adult battling literal children, you knew there was only one correct response: to hurl each and every one of those pillows right back.

It didn’t take long before the scene devolved into utter chaos. Fluffy rectangles flew across the living room, smacking into bodies or simply into walls. The kids outnumbered you and Steve three-to-one, so you were doomed from the start. However valiant of an effort you two gave, the party still overcame you, burying you and Steve under an avalanche of pillows.

“Clearly, we won this fight,” Dustin said as he loomed over you. Steve had tried to act as your human shield, so he laid beside you on the floor. “I think that means we earned the right to stay.”

“Dustin-“

“No, Steve, it’s okay,” you said, turning towards him. “I know it’s not what we originally planned, but maybe a sleepover with the kids would be fun.”

Steve looked at you with admiration glittering in his chocolate eyes. “Yeah?” he asked softly.

“Yeah.” You shifted a few pillows to get closer to Steve and plant a gentle kiss on his mouth. He smiled as your lips brushed his, and for a moment, you forgot about the gang of gangly tweens in your living room.

Then, a symphony of “ew”s and “aw”s and “can you not”s and “I think it’s sweet”s erupted throughout the room.

Steve shot into an upright position, pointing his finger in the general direction of the sitting area. “Hey, this is my house, and my girlfriend, and if I want to kiss her, I will. And if you dweebs want to stay here to watch your stupid show, you’ll keep your mouths shut.”

“As long as you keep yours shut,” Dustin quipped. “I think I can speak for everyone when I say we’d rather not see you and Y/N sticking your tongues down each other’s throats.”

You tossed the last pillow throw of the night at Dustin but agreed. You and Steve kept the PDA to a minimum that night. They were just kids, after all, and you didn’t want to corrupt them. However, when Nancy came to pick up Mike the next morning and Steve waved to her from the porch, you didn’t hesitate to flounce out the front door in your robe and draw Steve into a passionate kiss.

You just had to make sure Nancy knew what was yours.

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

And ah, take me out, and take me home

You're my, my, my, my lover

Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand?

With every guitar string scar on my hand

I take this magnetic force-of-a-man to be my lover

My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue

All's well that ends well to end up with you

Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover

And you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me

And at every table, I'll save you a seat, lover

Your favorite part of the day was coming home to your best friend.

Steve more or less memorized your schedule. You arrived home around the same time every evening, so Steve knew when to start listening for the sound of gravel crunching under the wheels of your car. He would then meet you on the porch with a “hello” kiss and a “how was your day, honey?” You always feigned indignance as he took your bags, murmuring something about how weak he must think you are to not be able to carry them two more steps. But, secretly, you spent your entire commute home anticipating the interaction.

This was especially true on the stressful days, the ones you felt would never end. Even though Steve was completely clueless in most situations, he could typically tell when you were in a foul mood. Those were the times he pulled you a little closer to his heart, hugged you a little tighter, loved you a little extra-just in case you needed it.

Today, you really, really did. It had been one of those days where everything seems to go wrong. You couldn’t wait to crawl into bed with Steve and snuggle all your sorrows away.

As you pulled into the driveway, your heart beat faster in anticipation. You watched the front door swing open. It took you a second to realize that the figure standing on the porch wasn’t your boyfriend. Rather, it was a short, stocky kid with a halo of golden curls. If it hadn’t been for the unmistakable hair, you might not have recognized him; you’d never seen him sans ballcap but plus a paisley-print bowtie around his neck and certainly never with dish rag was draped over his arm.

“Hey, Dustin,” you said. When he responded by simply smiling back at you, you asked, “What...what’cha doing here, kid?”

“Hello, Ms. Y/L/N. I’ll be your server for the evening,” he responded without missing a beat.

“My server?”

Dustin bent his head slightly in what he must have considered a sophisticated spin on a nod. “Indeed. Now, if you’ll follow me, ma’am...”

You kicked off your shoes and set down your purse before wandering after your guide down the dimly-lit hall. Something crinkled under your footsteps. You quickly noticed small ovals scattered across the wood floor. As you stepped on one, it felt like silk against your bare feet.

Petals?

You were too busy staring at the flowers scattered across the hall to realize you’d reached your destination. Dustin stopped, and you ran right into his back. You stumbled before regaining your balance and taking a look around the room.

The “server” had escorted you to your own kitchen-a place you were quite familiar with, since Steve couldn’t cook a decent meal to save his life. (To be fair, though, you weren’t much more skilled with the stove, so approximately 90% of your diet was comprised of takeout and peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches.) However, you’d never seen the kitchen quite like this.

It was the cleanest it had been since move-in day. Not a dish sat on the counter or even in the sink. The crumbs typically scattered across the floor had been replaced by rose petals. Sparkling white Christmas lights stretched across the room, and Elvis Presley crooned over the record player in the corner of the room. You didn’t even know Steve owned a record player. (As you later discovered, he didn’t. He’d borrowed it from Jonathan Byers.)

In the center of the room, your cheap card table was draped with a lace tablecloth. Wedged between two covered silver platters that looked like they belonged in a castle, a flickering candle cast shadows on the face of the boy sitting beside it. As soon as his eyes fell on you, he scrambled to his feet and over to you.

“Hi,” Steve said, winding his arms around your waist. He sounded breathless, even though he’d literally just walked a few feet.

“Hey.” Your eyes flicked from his slicked-back hair and freshly-shaven face to his crisp button-up and newly-polished shoes. “What’s-um-what’s all this?” you asked, vaguely gesturing around the room.

“Oh, you know.” Steve pressed a quick kiss to your lips before taking your hand and leading you to the table. “I just thought I’d do something special for you tonight.”

"That’s...really sweet.”

Steve scooted your chair in before placing himself back into the seat across from you. Dustin disappeared into your pantry, then returned with a bottle of sparkling grape juice. As you watched the teenager carefully pour a splash into each of your glasses, you asked whether Steve had bribed or tricked him into spending his Friday night playing restaurant.

“This is my full-time job, ma’am. This is how I earn my living,” Dustin answered dutifully before breaking character. “Besides, four of my stupid friends are on a double-date, and Will’s sick, so I had nothing better to do.”

“Way to sell us on the idea that you want to be here, dipshit,” Steve remarked.

“Hey, show our waiter a little respect!” you teased, gently kicking Steve under the table.

“Thank you, Y/N. But, actually, I prefer the term server,” Dustin corrected. He proceeded to produce a notepad from his pocket and read you the specials-or, rather, special, considering there was only one: spaghetti with meatballs. “On our regular menu, we also offer a wonderful noodle dish with a marinara sauce for the same low price as the special-zero dollars.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “So...just spaghetti again?”

Dustin clapped a hand over his heart in mock offense. “Excuse you, madam. It’s spaghetti without meatballs, which is a completely different experience.” Dustin glanced around as though someone might overhear before quietly adding, “Personally, I would recommend the spaghetti with meatballs, unless you want grubby hands digging around in your dish to pull out the meatballs, which may or may not already be incorporated into the pasta.”

You rolled your eyes but laughed nonetheless. “I guess I’ll have the spaghetti with meatballs, then.”

“Excellent choice. And for you, sir?”

“I’ll have the same,” said Steve.

“Well, you’ve both made this very easy for me. Pardon my reach,” Dustin said, leaning over to pluck the covers off the platters. A heaping hill of noodles, red sauce, and meatballs lay underneath.

Dustin took the lids and disappeared into the living room. You weren’t sure if Dustin was just trying to stay out of the way or if he was going to attempt to wash them in the bathroom sink. It definitely wouldn’t have been the weirdest thing he’d done in your house; once, you and Steve caught him trying to explain morse code to a squirrel in your backyard. That kid was truly an odd duck.

And speaking of weird behavior, you were still seriously questioning what was happening. Steve was a sweetheart, and he did everything in his power to make you happy. This definitely wasn’t the first time he’d surprised you with a thoughtful gesture, but it was probably the most all-out he’d ever gone. The last time he even attempted to cook for you was during senior year of high school, when you first started dating. As an after-school snack, Steve had popped some pizza rolls in the microwave and promptly forgotten about them...until, of course, the kitchen appliance burst into flames.

As strange as it was, you didn’t want to ruin the moment by verbally expressing your curiosities. You simply swirled slightly-soggy spaghetti around your spoon and savored the small talk. Eventually, Dustin reappeared to clear your plates and ask if you wanted dessert.

“What are my options?”

Dustin’s excellent waiter facade faded for a second. He glanced at Steve with wide eyes. His gaze begged for guidance-which Steve failed to provide. He simply squinted at Dustin as if to say, Figure it out for yourself.

The entire ordeal lasted about fifteen seconds. It was too long for Dustin to turn back to you with a tight-lipped smile plastered on his face as though nothing had just happened between them.

“The final course is-the dessert, uh-it’s a surprise.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could have sworn you saw Steve offer a nod of approval.

“Okay...” You drew out the word as your mind jumped to every conclusion possible. “Is it a good surprise? Or is it, like, a somewhat-edible science experiment that might actually poison me?”

“Oh, no, no. It’s a good surprise. You’ll like it. I promise,” Dustin said. “I-uh-I’ll go get it,” he said, then disappeared once more.

“Steve, why did Dustin just head toward the bathroom? I swear, if he made Jell-O in the toilet or something, I’m going to lose it.”

Steve just shrugged. He avoided your gaze, and a few beads of sweat had broken out across his forehead. That pretty much solidified your suspicions that Steve and Dustin were pulling some weird sort of prank on you.

Dustin returned a few minutes later with yet another silver platter. (Seriously, where was he getting these things?) This time, though, there weren’t any noodles on the plate he unveiled. Instead, a small velvet box sat on the metal.

The next few seconds happened in a blur. You recalled Steve rising from his chair and reaching for the box. Then, suddenly, he was on one knee in front of you. The box opened like an oyster. Instead of a pearl, though, its treasure was a glimmering diamond ring.

Tears began clouding your vision before Steve’s lips even parted. As soon as he spotted the water in your eyes, Steve started to get choked up, too. He tried to power through, but his voice became more strained with each syllable.

“Y/N. These past few years with you have been the best of my life, and I never thought...shit." Steve blinked rapidly, attempting to clear away the tears. “I never want to spend my time with-with anyone else-damn it,” he murmured as a drop of water finally escaped his tear duct and rolled down his face. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I had this whole speech prepared, but now I’m a mess-”

You stopped his ranting by placing a gentle palm on his cheek and a kiss on his forehead. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I love you for the whole-ass mess you are.”

Steve leaned into your touch for a moment and whispered, “I love you, too, Y/N.” Then, he straightened up, cleared his throat, and softly asked, “Will you marry me?”

“Of course.”

Steve barely had the patience to slide the ring on your finger with his shaking hands before he picking you up and swinging you around. He kissed all over your face, and your happy tears mixed with his in a joyous saltwater solution.

The kiss fest didn’t end until Steve, caught up in all the excitement, accidentally pressed his lips to your nostrils. The two of you burst into a fit of giggles amplified by the ecstasy of the emotions you were feeling. Your hysteria lasted for several minutes and ended with you and Steve laying on the floor, lungs devoid of oxygen and limbs tangled together.

“Are you guys really that happy, or are you, like, on something?”

You both glanced toward Dustin, whose presence had completely slipped your mind. Luckily, Steve had a response ready. It was cheesy and cliche, but nothing could have fit the situation more perfectly:

“No, dude. We’re just high on life.”

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

And ah, take me out, and take me home (Forever and ever)

You're my, my, my, my

Oh, you're my, my, my, my

Darling, you're my, my, my, my lover

***

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