#how the hell do we have the chance for another winter storm over the weekend | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

popculturebuffet · 4 years ago

Text

The Legion of Super Heroes Reviews: The Legion of Substitute Heroes or Unsung Heroes

Happy 29th Birthday to Me! Yes it’s my birthday which means it’s time for reflection, griping about getting older and cake. And after an exausting weekend of grappling with a growth, i’m not going to go into anymore detail, I can finally, relax celebrate and get back to reviewing. And since i’ts my big day, that means I decided to dedicate today’s reviews to things that mean a hell of a lot to me and in one way or another shaped me as a person. A self indulgant way to reflect on my past, look to the future and show y’all some stuff I really like. So with that out of the way let’s talk about the Legion of Super Heroes.. and their oddball sub team I love dearly.

This is also my first chance to talk about DC Comics on my blog. I’m honestly shocked that in the year i’ve been reviewing stuff regularly, the other half of the big two superhero comic publishers hasn’t come up. While I do tend to lean towards marvel, in part because Marvel is simply better at collecting their stuff and putting it on sale more often, it’s still the home of some of my faviorite properties: Justice League International, The Green Lanterns (Minus Hal), Teen Titans, Wonder Woman, Oracle, Batgirl (All of them, particularly Steph and Cass), Young Justice, Supergirl, my personal boy The Martian Manhunter.. the list dosen’t go on by much but it indeed goes on. I”ve been reading dc comics since I was in middle school, and I haven’t stopped since and don’t intend to stop now and maybe in the next year I can get around to tackling some of their awesome cartoons and comics more eh? But yeah among these titans, including the actual titans, are the Legion, one of the most unique and awesome super team concepts in my humble opinon and , even for DC, one of the teams with the most tangled up histories.

First created in the Silver Age by writer Otto Binder and Artist Al Plastino, The Legion of Superheroes is DC”s first successful teen superhero team, predating the titans by a few years, though I dearly love both wildly diffrent teams. The Legion is defined by their high concept: A thousand years into the future, three super teens from diffrent worlds who happened to be on the same ship with billionare RJ Brande, saved Brande from some goons hired by his crooked buisness partner.

And exposed him. Inspirired by their courage, heart and skill, Brande latter called the three together to form them into a super team, one inspiried by the legends of teen hero Superboy.

No not Conner though it was nice to get to show off my poster of him. While he was part of the second continuities legion, we’ll get to that, he’s not the superboy we’re looking for. He is damn great though and it’s good to have you back bud.

Not Jon either, though I do miss this kid’s pre-bendis version and he was the inspiration.. for another version of the legion. (SIGH). Try. AGAIN IMAGE SEARCH.

......

No not the cool bad boy turned troubled good boy, not the child who was inexpciably aged up by that bald smeghead, and not the great idea turned into a editiorial mouthpiece. I”m talking about THIS superboy.

This is where the name came from: From the silver age till crisis on infinite earths, Clark Kent was active as a kid in smallville, and thus was Superboy, superman when he was a boy. He dealt with similar stories just with Lana replacing Lois, and Luthor as a ginger teenager. And it was these deeds as a teen hero on his own, one of the first honestly, that inspiried the legion and brande and forged the team.

And it was naturally a super boy story where they were first introduced as the legion’s founders went back to recruit Superboy after putting him through some trials, and were intended as just one of many silver age one off concepts.. but caught on with the readers so much they were brought back, and had their ranks expanded and eventually not only added supergirl, yes the one your thinking of this time, to their ranks, and yes sometimes she and superboy were in the same place at the same time, Clark willingly had founding member and telepath Saturn Girl put a mental block in his head for any info he’s not supposed to know yet so it’s cool . But yeah not only that but they eventually became their own feature in Adventure Comics, where Superboy’s stories were published, but overtook him in popularity with time. Over time a number of distinct aspects were established: The roster eventually got as large as 20 plus legionarres, almost all from diffrent worlds, and they eventually set up bilaws. Some are silly and dated such as “Legionarres marrying means they retire” which was eventually done away with in the 70′s, but others were simple logic: each member must have a unique power, no using weapons and such which rather than be super power snobbery is so said tech dosen’t fail and the legion later fully allowed Karate Kid, a martial artist, to join, no killing.. just common sense stuff that adds to it. And one of those is the centerpiece to today’s story, which we’ll get to in a moment. Obviously given they’ve been around since 1958, there is a LOT more to the Legion’s history I will dig into at a later date: The short version is that Crisis on Infinite Earths, Dc’s first big reboot, fucked the team up badly by retconning superboy out of existance and dc editorial made it worse by shooting down EVERY solution the team came up with to fix the issue. So eventually things got so messy they nuked the whole thing during the event Zero Hour and rebooted fresh with Mark Waid taking the helm and updating the concept for the 90′s and being a more lighthearted, if still not without weight, comic in the sea of 90′s edge. Waid would reboot the team again due to sagging sales, a far weaker reason this time, with a more rebllion slant, the original team would be reinstated, and then ended for a while before recently being rebooted by Brian Micheal Bendis... who sadly is long past his creative prime from books like Ultimate Spider-man and alias and is instead stewing in his own toilet dinner these days and thus it’s not pretty.. well okay art wise i’ts VERY pretty, it’s just story wise it sucks dirty ass in thunder storms. There was also an awesome cartoon that sadly lasted only two seasons that I will DEFINTELY be digging into, especially since unlike x-men evolution, it’s not you know 50 some episodes and me biting off way more than I can chew but a slim 26 that still has fans to this day. I”ll get into ALL OF THIS, some ohter time hopefullly and I mostly outlined it since some of you might be familiar with another version or “Sigh” the reboot and this helps clear things up. So yeah with all that out of the way we’re going back to the silver age and the first story I ever read of hte team, how I met them with “The Legion of Substitute Heroes” and a later subs story I genuinely love. I first read this story in one dc’s old expensive archives collections I got from the library. Oh how I miss the library. Your probably wondering who the legion of susbstite heroes are.. but since the first story covers that we can jump right in after the break!

So we open with a teen in a parka uniform disembarking from a spaceship from another planet, which a passerby notes is just like the airplanes people used to ride from country to country.

But we meet our hero, Polar Boy, whose in a winter themed outfit and has come to try out. This is the tradition I was saving for now: The Legion Tryouts. Like a club or sports team would, but I like it because it makes sense: The Legion NEEDS to be as big as it is because while their headquartered on earth, their mission scope is anywhere in the united planets which spans GALAXIES. They could be called on any time and need their full force or need to have severa l members on a smaller mission and frequently having members away on a mission was cleverly used to reduce the cast to whoever was needed for the story.

So it only makes sense to frequently look for new membbers to help strengthen their ranks... but given their teens and are recurting teens they need to be careful and need a logical way to reduce crowd flow. I mean you saw how many people used to line up for american idol before that died a justified death, people will do anything to be famous and they need to weed out those whose powers and skill just aren’t up to snuff yet, or those who are just dicks as, unsuprisingly, several stories have been built on assholes who applied and were rejected turning evil and attacking.. even though the Legion wasn’t even paticuarlly harsh. They also are more than fair as applicants CAN try again or if they prove themselves in other ways can be let in, as Bouncing Boy, my favoirite legionarre, was intially rejected for his power of .. well...

Yeah.. on paper inflating like a ball and bouncing around is kind of silly. In practice he can ricochet off enemies, walls, and obstacles and is fairly durable in that state. It’s why I don’t really brook mocking the guys power: yes it’s goofy.. but say that again when he hands you his ass. It’s the same with matter eater lad who yes is an actual character: While being able to eat anything is gloriously goofy.. it means he can chew through ANY substance and digest ANYTHING. Hell in the cartoon episode intorducing the subs they used both of these guys to great efffect: Bouncing Boy, who in the cartoon had to try out multiple times in his backstory, encouraged the future subs while Matter Eater Lad got in by EATING A FUCKING BOMB. He also had shades which I dind’t know he was missing but now I do. My point is the process is fair and well thought out and leads to some really fun scenes.

But yeah joining the legion is naturally Polar Boy’s dream, as he walks down the avenue of heroes, basically a series of statues honoring the legion and hopes all his hard work paid off. We then cut to the auditions, where he apparently waited all night. What I like about this story is that unusually for the silver age legion where it was mostly a sea of powers attached to a bunch of cardboard, really the dc silver age in a nutshell and why marvel broke out so much for having more dynamic and realistic characters, Polar Boy has more of a personality. It’s not MUCH but he’s a dedicated, hard working kid who just wants to join his heroes and seems really in awe of htem, a feeling we can all relate to. We’ve all had people we’ve looked up to, admired, and we’ve all had groups we wanted to join as kids, teens or what have you. And of course.. we all know what it’s like to be rejected by someone or something you badly wanted to be a part of. And that’s what happens to poor polar boy, who comes from a world with an intense sun thus his people developed super cold powers.. but he can’t control them well so while their impressive, they also freeze the legion. HIs powers are good... but due to their strength and radius he’s also a liablility. They give him an consolation anti-gravity belt.. they had these before eventually compressing them into the much cooler flight rings.. which I still desperatly want one of. I have the flash’s costume ring and a green lantern corps ring, but still no legion ring.

Naturally this devistates the poor boy and he wonders around dispondent till nightfall, convinced he’ll never be one of them. He soon meets Night Girl, a fellow reject with super strength given to her by her dad’s formula.. but only in darkness as she’s from a world without sunlight. She also faces a “hopeless future” but it’s then Polar Boy’s true strength reveals itself: he decides screw giving up on their dream and if they can’t be in the legion they’ll start their own Legion.

Though not to compete but to serve as a subtistute, in case the legion is ever incapacitated. So Night Girl gathers the other rejects the next morning. Cleverly one of them, Chlorophyll Kid was seen with Night Girl herslef at the tryouts behind Polar Boy. We soon learn about them and each of their origins: Stone Boy can turn himself into an immobile stone statue, as his world has half a year long nights and thus his people hybernate, Fire Lad who can spit hot fire literally and set anything combustable on fire and Chlorphyll Kid who can make plants grow rapidly. Each were rejected for resonable powers: Stone Boys powers too static, Fire Lad’s is too dangerous and Chorlpyl Kids toos pecific. But upon seeing all of this Polar Boy says they STILL have fantastic powers and still can help people and the legion.

Thus the Legion of Substittue Heroes is born. And I love them as much as the originals. As a bit of a misfit myself I relate to these guys: They have strange specific powers, got rejected by the big team.. while that trope is nothing new at the time it was unique and even now it’s a nice and inspiring message. Instead of giving up they form their OWN team to do what htey can anyway. They might not be the best like the legion but they can still help and still do what’s right even if not on their scale. It’s a great concept and really makes them endearing. Again I have a thing for the underdogs but I still really like these guys. It’s why it annoys me they got kind of spat on with time: While I love Keith Giffen and Paul Levitz run on the legion, and feel it’s the best of that contnuinty it’s not without fault and the two basically spent a full issue mocking the team and split polar boy off from them before making their own subs with only ONE of the originals. It just felt.. disrspectful. And so far no continuity has used them again until the recent bendis run, which has them announced for the Future Slate special. It took BENDIS, who dosen’t get how to use the team properly and is up his own ass, to bring them back in a new continuity and I find that obnoxious. The subs are a great concept and deserve to be honored as such and as such are one of my favorite superhero teams.

But their careers don’t start well as they doubt themslves, except for Polar Boy who boisters them along, and constnatly just end up going to missions the legion already has covered and when the legion go to fight some robot ships, they refuse the subs help.. which is fair though, as Brainy puts it they can’t risk putting untrained volunteers in harms way. Their about to just quit, in a really sad moment.. when CK, because I can’t spell cholophill and hate having to use spell check notices some odd seeds spread about.. and when he grows one a horrifying tree man shows up. They struggle with it till the setting son finishes it’s job, meaning Night Girl is at full power and whollops it and the subs spend the night destroying the seeds. They find out the next day the seeds came from the same planet as the robot ships, meaning the ships are a distraction for whoevers doing this and since they can’t just call earth, as the full force of the legion is needed with the robots and all it’d do is cause a panic, it’s down to them. Night Girl however is scared.. and I like that. It shows that while their regaining their confidence.. it’s sitll risky. Their a bunch of barely trained fanboys, and girl, going up against an alien invasion, with it down to them. They CAN save the world but it’s alright to be entirely terrified when your thrust into it this fast.

They make their way to the planet, having built a ship earlier and lie low, finding out what’s going on: The plant men are fully intellegent, and grow themselves..though how they know to attack and go to the bathrom and what not out of the seed I don’t know but I assume it’s a genetic thing or they might be some form of hive mind. point is the seed plan is to grow troops all over the world via rockets for an invasion, and it’s a brilliant concept for one too. Aliens who simply GROW the troops right into battle, born with the knowledge to do so, and right where they can ambush them. It’s down to our heroes and Stone Boy, whose been the most pesemistic, valiantly dives in to provide a distraction so they can destroy the factory and the seeds. Turns out he is useful as the most the treeple have is a space lead pipe.. yes really. I love the silver age. But they’ll bring ray guns soon, so Stone BOy knows it’s a suicide mission and now our heroes have a timer. But luckily.. our heroes are stronger than they think. Night Girl punches a way in till Night passes, while Polar Boy and Flame Lad use their powers in concert to make an opneing.. but with time running out Polar Boy finishes things by having CK grow all the seeds now they have acess.. thus exploding the planets population, destroying several cities from the number of bodies, and thu discourguing the treeple from trying again. Stone boy is able to flee with the rest of our heroes and the day is saved.

The heroes opt not to tell the public, as to take away glory for the Legion. It’s a noble gesture.. they do DESERVE credit, but they choose not to take it, preferring to let the legion get theres for stil lsaving the world from the robots. They stand firm, now confident they may someday make it to the big leagues.And it’s this that really makes me love them: Thier not the strongest or best, but they try anyway for the reasons a hero should: to help people, and not for the glory. THey remain unsung heroes and are fine with that. Eventually the Legion WOULD find out about them, but naturally instead of being dickheads about it, fully accepted them, even offering them some contests for membership, but that’s a story for another day. THey’d remain stalwart allies and valuable backup in crisis situations for years to come until the bollocks outlined above. But they’d never leave my heart and thanks to them.. the legion never left either.

Final Thoughts: While I do love the story for it’s personal signifigance to me, It’s stilll a really good story for the time. A bit stilted as was the style, but still good, well paced and with an endaring cast of underdogs who prove themselves in the end. It’s something diffrent from the usual clean cut ahead in life wasps these stories usually followed at the time. While the team’s still all white and all that, their outcasts and misfits who just want to help and have trouble beliving in themselves. Their a good standard to live up to.. and a good inspiration for me and my constnatly self hating self doutbing self. And I hope you enjoyed htem too. If you’d like to comission your own review, just dm me. It’s 5 bucks for individual issues. Later days.

#the legion of super heroes #the legion of substitute heroes #polar boy #fire lad #night girl #chorophyil kid #stone boy #silver age #comics #comics reviews #birthday

9 notes · View notes

goodlucktai · 5 years ago

Text

hello my old heart

natsume yuujinchou word count: 2798 written for @natsume-ss !! my giftee this year was @frootysparkycakes. two of your prompts were ‘everyone gets a nap’ and ‘parental fujiwaras’ and i thought a little of both would be good :) i hope you enjoy !!

read on ao3

Takashi’s face is wind-bitten and his feet are freezing in their damp canvas sneakers, but the cold air around him is clouded with laughter, and all the noise his friends are making rings up and down the empty streets.

“I hate snow!” Nishimura says brightly, clustered against Takashi’s left shoulder like a barnacle. He’s a bundle of scarf and coat and oversized beanie with a ridiculous pom-pom on the end. “God, who’s idea was it, anyway? Snow.”

Taki is on Takashi’s opposite side, her arm threaded through his as much for warmth as for support. She giggles every time they slip on a patch of ice, and Takashi’s smile grows every time she does.

“This is your fault, Shibata,” Kitamoto says darkly, a hand hooked under Tanuma’s elbow to keep him upright. It looks a little bit like he’s wrangling a lanky scarecrow. Every ten seconds Tanuma punctuates another near-fall with a flustered ‘sorry!’ and Nishimura counts each one under his breath. “You just had to have chicken nuggets.”

Right on cue, an affronted noise of protest: “Excuse me,” Shibata says from somewhere behind Takashi, “I’m not the only one who wanted snacks! Besides, it wasn’t supposed to start snowing until later tonight.”

“Stop whining,” Ogata demands. “You’re making this walk take even longer.”

She’s been out of breath since they hiked back down the mountain from Tanuma’s house, not used to the altitude and the terrain that Takashi and his classmates know so well, and the sudden snow doesn’t seem to be helping. Takashi glances over his shoulder to make sure Shibata still has an arm around her and they both make faces at him when they notice.

Nyanko-sensei bumps the underside of Takashi’s chin with his head curtly. If they were alone, he’d probably be squawking something like ‘watch where you’re going, clumsy brat!’ but as it is he has to settle for a very telling glare. Takashi mutters, “Yeah, yeah,” but he makes sure the cat is buttoned up all snug inside his coat anyway.

“We’re nearly there,” Taki says cheerfully. And then, “Oh, look!”

Takashi’s heart does something complicated and acrobatic in his chest when he spots a familiar figure through the snow. Touko is standing in front of the house, wrapped in Shigeru’s coat and glancing around anxiously. She lights up when she spots their group making its ungainly way down the road, clasping her hands together under her chin and smiling in that beaming way she has.

“There you are! Oh, I’d hoped you wouldn’t try going back up to the temple in this dreadful weather. Come in, come in! Let’s get you all warm.”

They make a commotion in the genkan, because Takashi’s friends can’t go anywhere together without making at least a little one. They lean on each other to help get out of boots and undo shoelaces and wrestle off various winter wear. Nishimura is shaking his damp scarf at Kitamoto just to be annoying. They’re all exhausted and sort of giddy with it. Shigeru is laughing behind his newspaper as they all pile into the sitting room.

“Snowed off the mountain, were you?” he says warmly. His smile is as much a welcome as Touko waiting outside for them was. “You’ll probably be stuck here for the night, I’m afraid.”

“There’s no probably about it,” Touko insists. She touches Takashi’s hair, the barest pressure that smooths the fringe out of his eyes. She is somehow both soft and stern as she looks around at all of his friends, a contradiction made easy by her caring. “And I want each of you to call your parents and let them know, alright?”

Tanuma’s father is away for work, Taki’s whole family is overseas, Shibata’s parents only know that he’s staying in Hitoyoshi, and as far as Ogata’s mother is aware, Ogata is still in her hometown having a sleepover with her friend Junko. The only one who takes out his cellphone is ever-agreeable Kitamoto, and he shares the call with Nishimura; the two of them pressed ear to ear as Kitamoto’s mother tells them to ‘behave, and thank Touko-san for her hospitality,’ and then tells them both goodnight.

Nyanko-sensei picks his way out Takashi’s lap and over to Tanuma’s. Tanuma looks a little pleased to have been chosen and then tries not to at Taki’s broken-hearted expression. Everyone starts to slump where they’re sitting, fighting yawns. Shigeru and Touko trade knowing glances, and Shigeru gathers up his newspaper and beer.

Takashi is watching them, because it’s been three years and he can’t help but watch them sometimes. Studying their expressions, the barest twitch of their mouth or eye that might mean they’re— upset, or that he’s done something wrong. It’s hard to break those habits that kept him safe in those other places.

If they’ve ever noticed the watching, they don’t seem to mind. Presently, Touko glances over and meets Takashi’s eyes as Shigeru steps out of the room, and she only smiles when she meets them.

“You’re all so tuckered out,” she says. There’s a kind laugh lurking in the back of her voice somewhere. “Why don’t you rest until it’s time for dinner?”

Shigeru comes back with all of the blankets from the linen closet, and Takashi’s friends make mindless noises of appreciation as he hands them out. His lined face is fond as Tanuma tries to juggle a fat lucky cat to the crook of his arm to take the blanket Shigeru holds out to him. Nishimura’s already half-dead to the world, face buried in Takashi’s stomach and a leg thrown over Shibata’s knee.

“How did this happen?” Takashi whispers as his foster father makes his way around to him. “They were wide awake ten seconds ago.”

Touko’s laugh finally makes its escape, a light and pleasant sound that doesn’t disturb a single drowsing body.

“You’re the same way,” she murmurs. “Ever since you first came to live with us, there were times when you’d drop off so suddenly, and sleep as though nothing short of a hurricane would wake you.”

Takashi gazes up at her, picking at the blanket Shigeru gave him, and thinks about how strange it is, that’s he’s been in this place for so long that Touko has little stories like that to share. That he came here, and he stayed here, and the Fujiwaras never asked him to move on or tried to send him away. They like him, and they notice and remember things about him that no one else ever bothered to notice or remember, and they would rather let all of his friends take over their sitting room than let them be cold for a moment longer than they needed to.

It’s a complicated train of thoughts, and it ends up a knotted, jumbled thing that he can’t put into words at all, and so he says, “Thank you,” because that’s what it usually circles back to in the end.

Thank you for the blanket, and thank you for thinking of me, and thank you for taking a chance on that strange orphaned boy you heard nothing but bad things about.

“Of course,” Touko says, reaching for the light switch on the wall. “We’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.”

Takashi manages to lay down without disrupting Nishimura’s complicated-looking sprawl. The sitting room is warm enough that he doesn’t need the blanket, but the weight of it, and its worn-out softness, and the familiar smell of their laundry detergent, is a strange amalgamation of slow, syrupy comfort that Takashi kind of wants to bury his face in.

The wind outside is a dull roar, leaning up against the porch doors like an uninvited stranger testing the locks. It must be snowing harder, the promised overnight storm sneaking out ahead of schedule to make mischief, the way all winter spirits like to do. Comparatively, snug inside and surrounded by his closest friends, Takashi feels warmer than he thinks he ever has before.

“It’s strange that we’re graduating next year,” he murmurs into the dim room.

“About time,” Ogata replies sleepily.

It sends a pang through him, but he smiles anyway. “Yeah. I’ll just miss days like this is all.”

There’s a bit of a rustle, and someone grunts in protest when someone else digs an accidental elbow someplace soft, and then Taki’s tousled head pops up over Kitamoto’s shoulder.

“Natsume,” she says in her most sensible tone of voice. “If you want to cuddle at our new house, all you have to do is ask.”

“Not really,” Shibata yawns from some other corner of the room. “Even if he didn’t ask, you’d have to pry Satchan off him with a crowbar.”

“Green’s not your color, Sumi,” Nishimura replies without even bothering to open his eyes.

Shibata makes a sputtering noise at the new nickname, like a car engine trying to turn over. Tanuma snorts with laughter and then immediately tries to pretend like he didn’t think it was funny when Shibata whirls on him.

Takashi blinks up at the ceiling, turning Taki’s words over in his head. He says, “What new house?”

“Natsume,” Kitamoto groans. “Come on, buddy. We’ve been talking about it for months. Since last summer.”

Takashi starts to sit up, remembers that he’s acting as a pillow, and manages to hold himself still while his brain starts spinning around in confused circles.

“But that was,” he says, and stops. Another false start: “You were— “ He bites the inside of his cheek, wrestles the right words out, and says, “I thought it was a joke.”

Nishimura turns his head, hair still a mess from the weather and his stupid hat. His eyes are round and incredulous but not judgmental, and not mocking, and not mean. He says, “Why the hell would we joke about that? We’re sticking together. We have a whole plan.”

The plan is to get into the same university and rent a big house together in the city. Gotta be one that’s cat-friendly, his friends have laughed, bringing it up over dozens of lunch periods and two-day weekends, one with room enough for all of us, but he hadn’t taken them seriously.

“You said you wanted to,” Tanuma says. He sounds upset now. Takashi hates it.

“I do,” he replies quickly, because of course he does. He’s always wanted impossible things, what he knew he couldn’t have. When his friends talked about a future together, he smiled along and thought wouldn’t it be nice, and that was as far as he dared let those thoughts go. “I just thought it was… hypothetical.”

“Our parents are already looking at properties,” Kitamoto says dryly. “Touko and my mom were discussing it on the phone like three days ago. It hasn’t been anywhere in the realm of hypothetical.”

Takashi feels the familiar weight of his cat coming back to him, the split-second glint of sensei’s green eyes the brightest thing in the room as he settles into the crook of Takashi’s arm. Silent, necessarily so, but present, just in case Takashi needs to borrow strength from him.

“Are you serious?” Takashi asks, of no one in particular.

“Why do you think I started going to cram school?” Nishimura says, sounding offended, of all things, like this is a sacrifice he’s made that should have been respected. “Of course we’re serious.”

“We would miss this, too, Natsume,” Taki says. She sounds much more awake now, and he can only imagine the look in her eyes. After looking through a window into the face of a monster all those years ago, Taki can see through people with an ease that Takashi thinks even Natori is probably jealous of. “That’s why we’re going to make it so that we don’t have to.”

But it’s not that easy. It can’t be, it never is. Takashi doesn’t say anything else, but Tanuma asks, “Why not?” as if he heard anyway.

Takashi thinks of the half-empty book upstairs, guarded by a ward strong enough to make the chuukyuu’s eyes water from the backyard. The secret that only half the people in the room are aware of. The wall between himself and everyone else that he built stone by stone by stone, to keep them— and himself— safe from inevitable hurt.

“You don’t even know me,” Takashi blurts.

Nishimura sits up. Kitamoto makes a grumbly noise and starts extracting himself from blankets. Shibata says “No no I finally got comfortable, Tanuma, come on,” but Tanuma is moving, too.

Ogata says, in a kind, careful voice, “Natsume, of course we know you.”

“Not everything,” Takashi insists, feeling his heart start to move a little faster. “You don’t— you don’t know everything.”

Tanuma, Taki and Shibata are watching him with understanding and grim determination. Nishimura, Kitamoto and Ogata’s expressions are surprisingly similar.

“I just found out last week that Satchan is still afraid of dogs because one chased him when we were four,” Kitamoto says plainly. “I’ve known him since kindergarten and I found out last week.”

“I don’t make a habit of going near dogs,” Nishimura retorts in a conversational tone that also manages to sound like he’s picking a fight. “So it never came up until my stupid neighbor adopted an evil Corgi. That’s not my fault.”

Ogata whispers, “Evil Corgi.”

Going on as though he wasn’t interrupted, Kitamoto adds, “You can’t say I don’t really know him, can you? Even though I didn’t know he was still afraid of dogs?”

“I feel like that’s different,” Takashi says slowly, though he can’t think of a reason why.

“It isn’t,” Shibata says. His expensive shirt is all wrinkled, and there’s a pink crease on his cheek from where it was pressed against Tanuma’s sleeve. “Are we on the same page now? Can we go to sleep?”

There’s a gentle clamor of shifting and resettling, everyone sinking back into cushions and soft blankets. Nishimura lays down next to Takashi instead of perpendicular to him, tipping over to use his shoulder as a pillow instead.

“There’s no getting rid of us, Bakashi,” he says in a voice as low as it can go before it becomes a whisper. “You don’t have to be scared.”

And the thing is…

The thing is, he isn’t.

The storm is picking up outside, wind and snow battering against the porch doors with a vengeance; but the sitting room is snug, and Nishimura’s eyes are deep and dark in the low light, and Takashi marvels at how safe and warm he feels.

He brings a hand to his chest, as if to feel for the wall he built there, and finds it much smaller than he remembers. As though it shrank with time, or maybe Takashi outgrew it.

It’s either bravery or the lack of any real need for bravery that pushes Takashi to open his mouth without killing himself over what-ifs and say, “It’s just that any house I live in is going to be haunted. Really, actually haunted.”

Taki giggles, and Shibata makes that sputtering noise again, and Takashi can almost hear the pleased way Tanuma is smiling. Ogata hums a half-surprised little “oh” that sort of makes it sound like her best guess was just proven right, and Kitamoto sighs.

“Ghosts. That explains so much.”

Nishimura squeezes Takashi’s hand until Takashi looks at him. He’s grinning, the sight of him sleep-ruffled and safe and familiar.

“Shibata’s grouchy morning self is way scarier than any ghoul you manage to bring home, Natsume,” he says happily. “Nice try, though.”

In an hour, Takashi will wake up to the sound of poorly stifled laughter and a handful of ineffective ‘shhh’s. He’ll roll his head to follow the sound, and he’ll see his friends grouped around his cat, listening to him tell a widely embellished story about the kind dragon Takashi hatched once.

“It flew away?” Kitamoto will ask, sadness in his voice. “He never saw it again?”

And Nyanko-sensei will flick an ear at him, derisive. “It didn’t have any business staying as long as it did in the first place. But things have an unfortunate way of sticking to that Natsume, always leaving without asking and coming back just the same. Knowing my luck, he’ll probably see that Tama again someday.”

“I hope we’ll be there,” Taki will whisper.

And Takashi will look at them and realize Of course. Of course you will.

But for now, the room is dark and warm, and his friends are finally quieting down. Nyanko-sensei’s eyes are closed but Takashi has the sense that he’s keeping watch. If he listens very hard, he can hear his parents in the kitchen. He falls asleep still holding Nishimura’s hand.

The storm passes eventually. It leaves behind a blanket of fresh snow and a bright, starry night sky.

#natsumess2019 #natsume yuujinchou #natsuyuu #natsume takashi #nishimura satoru #taki tooru #kitamoto atsushi #tanuma kaname #shibata katsumi #ogata yuriko #nyanko sensei #fujiwara touko #fujiwara shigeru #my writing #natsuyuu fic #natsumess #frootysparkycakes #wanna find a home (wanna share it with you)

119 notes · View notes

rorynne · 5 years ago

Text

Time Lost Chapter 10

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader

Summary: An accident during a mission sends you back in time to the second world war. There you enlist the help of Peggy Carter, Steve Rogers, and Bucky Barnes to find the object that can send her back.

Warnings: Emotional pain.

Word count: 2k

Masterlist

Prologue Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9

Sticks snapped under Bucky's boots as he walked through the forest, distracted. He was supposed to be on patrol alongside Falsworth, who was currently the only one of the pair actually doing their job. Bucky was far too focused on the last few weeks to really be of any use.

You had been acting strangely, distantly even, but only around Bucky, or more specifically, only to Bucky. You refused to call him by any of the nicknames you had for him. Trying to get you to even stay in the same room as him seemed impossible. Bucky rubbed his face, frustration setting in. Asking you was met with the same few denials and excuses. Had it not been for the subject matter, he would have found your horrible attempts at lying to be hilarious coming from a trained spy.

"Had I known you were going to spend the entire patrol pining, I would have requested Jaques to come with me instead," Falsworth said pulling Bucky out of his stupor.

"'M not pining Monty." He grunted stubbornly, this hadn't been the first time Falsworth had accused him of pining, but it was largely a topic he didn't want to think about. It was no secret that he had a thing for you, but he didn't want to admit it was anything more than that when you were suddenly acting like you hated him. The last thing he wanted to do was make you hate him more.

"Right, which is exactly why you've been staring into space for an hour." Falsworth countered and Bucky shot him a look. Bucky honestly didn't mind Falsworth most of the time, but God he was more of a busy body than Bucky's sister.

Bucky sighed, rolling his eyes. "You knew her from before the Commandos, didn't you? Why do you think she's acting like this?"

Falsworth shrugged, "She sacrificed her mission to help me survive a Russian winter after my plane was shot down." He explained to Bucky, stopping to state at him. "We were forced to get comfortable with each other's company out of necessity. I would hardly call that 'knowing her'." He patted Bucky on the back. "Out of all of us, I would say you know her best. Well, you and Agent Carter."

Bucky stopped in his tracks as a lightning bolt of an idea struck him. He hadn't even considered asking Peggy. God, he felt like an idiot, no doubt Peggy would know why you were acting the way you were. "You're a damn genius, Monty." He beamed before sprinting off towards camp, ignoring Falsworth as he yelled obscenities at Bucky as he left Falsworth behind.

It didn't take long for Bucky to return to the camp, and it took even less time to find Peggy working away in the command tent. Peggy looked up at him as he approached, "If you're looking for Y/N, then you just missed her. She left about ten minutes ago " Bucky frowned, he wasn't surprised, just missing you had become something of a theme the past few weeks, as much as he hated it.

"I was looking for you, actually." He said, and Peggy raised an eyebrow. "To talk about Y/N." He admitted, scratching the back of his head. The last thing he needed was for Peggy to think he was trying to flirt with her again.

Peggy's gaze softened slightly, "I'm not one for gossip Sergeant Barnes, Surely you could ask her what ever it is that you wish to know?"

Bucky sighed, "That's the first thing I tried ma'am." He said, taking a step closer to her desk. "Hell almost all of us have, but she just denies everything." God, he wouldn't even be asking for Peggy's help if just asking you was working in any form. He carded his hand through his hair, "I just wanted to know if she told you if I did anything to upset her."

Peggy furrowed her brow, all work now forgotten. “What on earth are you talking about?” She questioned, although, with her tone, it was more like she was politely calling him an idiot. “Why on earth would you think she’s upset with you, of all things?”

“Because she barely even looks at me?” Bucky answered with a shrug. Did Peggy really not know? Of all people, Peggy was the one you spent the most time with. If Peggy didn't know, then who even would? “She… hasn’t said anything?”

Peggy shook her head, “When did this all start?” Concern painted her features clearly finding this to be much more of an issue than Bucky was expecting her to.

“Since the meeting, we had on the bell she’s been looking for.” He explained, and understanding and realization seemed to bloom on Peggy’s face. “The moment I walked in it was ‘Sergeant Barnes’ this and “Sergeant Barnes’ that, and she only does that when I annoy her or upset her somehow, but I… just don’t know what I could have possibly done.” He just wanted things to go back to normal for christ's sake. He would give you the world if it just meant you would call him Bucky again.

“You didn’t do anything,” Peggy said, pity and Frustration mixing in her voice. “I did.”

Bucky looked at her like she was nuts, “I’m not sure I’m followin’ you.” What could have Peggy possibly said that would make you hate him? Did she mention his flirting with her when they first met? But then, he wasn't exactly secretive about his tendency towards flirting with women, although he was pretty sure you didn't actually believe it.

"The idiot is trying to either prove me right or prove me wrong." She said with a sigh, standing up. "I'll talk some bloody sense into her." She stormed out of the tent before Bucky even had a chance to ask what she meant. Leaving him more confused and frustrated than before.

Sleep didn't come easily to Bucky that night, tossing and turning in his sleeping bag. He had somehow gotten even more restless over the last few weeks, but even then it wasn't exactly like he slept well to begin with. He groaned and sat up, it was pointless to keep trying to sleep. He crawled out of his tent with a yawn, hoping a walk would be enough to clear his head.

He didn't hear from you or Peggy after she stormed out of the Command tent, which he wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing all things considered. That also meant all of his questions had gone unanswered, however. He honestly wasn't sure what to make of any of it at all. Peggy had acted like you being angry at him was unimaginable. He took a deep breath, he was supposed to be clearing his thoughts, not jumbling them more. The only thing this whole ordeal had made him realize just how badly he had it for you.

He stopped when he saw a figure sitting in front of the dying fire in the center of camp. He was instantly brought back to another sleepless night five months ago now. You had looked so beautiful in the firelight, surrounded by falling snow. The sight of you that night had made that entire weekend of hiking and camping worth it. Even having you in his arms felt so right that he didn't even realize you were there until he saw your eyes looking up at him in surprise. He wanted to kiss you right then and there. It wasn't until you said something that he snapped out of your spell, and let you go. He still wanted to kiss you.

You were still beautiful in the firelight. You stared up at the sky, mouth agape as you counted the stars. He considered leaving you there, letting you be to enjoy your stargazing. He swallowed, steeling his nerves, and took a step forward. "The stars are beautiful tonight." He said awkwardly. He didn't even look at the stars to actually know the sky could have been completely overcast for all he knew, but he had to say something.

You yelped in surprise, turning to see him, "Jesus Christ Barnes, warn a girl before you sneak up on her next time." You said, a hand on your chest trying to steady your heart. Bucky smiled inwardly at your reaction, like a child vexing a crush.

His courage slowly took hold of him as he stood in front of you. "Didn't expect you out here to warn you." He said softly. "Can't sleep?"

You scoffed, "Are you kidding me? Peggy just got done chewing me out." You said as he stepped closer. "You really had to rat me out didn't you Sarge." You sounded tired, but god did Bucky's heart leap at the nickname.

"You've been avoiding me for weeks Doll." He said as he sat down next to you. "I thought I did something to make you hate me."

You sighed and looked back up at the sky. "Leo is out tonight." You said pointing upwards. Bucky followed your hand as you traced out the pattern in the stars. He always liked stargazing when he was a kid.

He looked at you, wondering if you just intended to avoid the subject completely. Really, he just wanted to know why. Why would you suddenly just start avoiding him? Why were you calling him Sarge again? Just, why? He decided not to push the issue, instead, deciding to savor the fact you were sitting next to him at all. He looked back at the sky, tracing out a pattern, "Hercules is over there."

“I’m not going to be here when the war is over.” You said unprompted. Bucky didn’t look away from the stars as he tried to process what you had just said. Were, were you planning on dying or something?

“If you think I’m not going to move heaven and hell to get you out of this war alive, Doll, then I-”

“That’s not what I mean, Bucky.” You interrupted. You were silent for a few beats before you spoke again. “When the war is over, I’m being reassigned. I’m not going home.” Oh. “After all this,” You gestured to the camp with your hand. “I’m going to be reassigned somewhere far away. Probably Russia if the current political climate says anything.”

“Is, Is that what you want?” He asked looking over to you. He watched you carefully, unsure of what else to do or say. For the first time in weeks, things were starting to make sense to him, and it hurt. No part of him liked where this was going.

You nodded, looking down at the fire. “More than anything Bucky.” Your voice was so earnest, it was as if you had told him some grand secret. “But after all this is through, I’ll probably never see any of you again.” You picked at your fingers as the last embers of the fire started to cool. “Peggy said… said I was going to end up hurting someone if I kept acting like I was, knowing what I know.”

“So you just started avoiding me?”

“I was trying to be more professional.” You explained. Bucky wanted to scream, professional was probably the last thing he wanted you to be with him. “And then Peggy came into my tent yelling that you thought I was mad at you or something.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me in the first place Doll?” He asked. He just… wanted- needed answers, after weeks of nothing. If anything, knowing he would likely never see you again after this hell of a war, he wanted to spend as much time with you as he could, not barely see you.

You shrugged, “I thought, Christ, I don’t know. I didn’t want you to take it the wrong way I guess.”

“What would have been the wrong way?”

You sighed, “Fuck, I don’t know. That we were anything more than friends?” Bucky frowned, his heart throbbing painfully. He had honestly thought, or at least hoped, there was something more than that between the two of you. To learn that you didn’t seem to agree…

Bucky shoved your shoulder playfully in an attempt to mask the pain he was feeling. “Next time Doll, just talk to me. Please.” He could feel his heart breaking as he spoke. This was not a good night.

You nodded, a forced smile on your face before pointing towards the horizon. “Cygnus is rising.”

@henderwhore4life @mysterieuselizeuze @mystifyign @part-time-prefect @walkingtravesty97 @geekofmanyforms @book-lover-like-no-other @thelibraryoffanfiction

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky #bucky x y/n

53 notes · View notes

justanoutlawfic · 5 years ago

Text

Coming Home: Chapt. 2

Summary: A look back on happier times for the Nolan family. In the present, Mary Margaret tries to get Emma to talk to her.

Also on AO3/FF

January 3rd, 1989

Fostering had been Mary Margaret’s idea. Something she would remember when things went wrong. But in the meantime, she and David had thought of the many ways to expand their family. For as long as she could remember, they had been trying to have a baby but nothing worked. They had debated IVF but it was so expensive. They were a sheriff and school teacher. One round of that could pay for renovations on their home, to qualify them to be able to adopt. Domestic and international adoption had been something else they had looked into but for some reason that didn’t call to them.

Mary Margaret was a teacher. She worked with older kids and knew the importance of shaping their minds. She realized that maybe they didn’t need a baby. Maybe instead, they could help a child that had already been through the system, that needed a second chance. David had agreed to it quicker than Mary Margaret had expected. So, they went through the paperwork and got the home study done.

Their first placement had been a 11-year-old boy named August. He was only with them for 3 weeks and didn’t spend a lot of time in their home. Despite Mary Margaret and David doing everything they could to bond with the pre-teen, he wanted to spend most of his time exploring. They tried to be patient, not wanting to be too overbearing. There was never that connection, though. No matter how hard they tried, August just didn’t want to get to know them. And after those 3 weeks, he told his social worker that he didn’t want to be with them anymore. It hurt the day August left, but they wanted whatever was best for him. If they weren’t it, than they had to respect that.

They waited six months for their next placement. Sure, they’d get several calls for kids that needed homes and they said “yes” each time. Sibling groups that the system didn’t want to split up would work out great in their four-bedroom home. The teenager needing just a weekend placement was something they were interested in. There had even been a call for a 3-day old baby that David had rushed out to get a bassinet for, only to get a call a bit later that they didn’t need them to take her in anymore. Foster children needed placements, but Mary Margaret and David weren’t getting any.

Then one day, they got the call. A 5-year-old little girl by the name of Emma Smith. She had been in the system since birth, having been with one family until age 3. It wasn’t exactly known what happened but they couldn’t care for her any longer. She had been in and out of group homes since then, trying to find her a new family but nothing stuck. The social worker hoped that Mary Margaret and David could be it.

They redecorated one of the spare rooms in the course of a night. The yellow room got hints of white. Mary Margaret purchased new bright yellow bedding after hearing it was Emma’s favorite color. David had purchased a few new stuffed animals, placing them throughout the room. Their hands grasped through one another, smiling.

“Do you think she’ll like it?” Mary Margaret asked.

David nodded. “Even if she doesn’t, we could always change it.”

“It just sounds like she’s been through so much in those short five years.”

“Well, hopefully this is the end of the line for her.”

“There’s no reason why there shouldn’t be. According to Helen, she was abandoned on the side of the road when she was an infant.” Mary Margaret frowned. “I can’t imagine what someone would have to go through, in order to do that.”

The following morning, there was a knock on their door. Helen stood on the doorstep, a small 5-year old standing beside her. She had a mass of wild blonde curls with big green eyes. She wore a beat-up jean jacket over a black and white striped shirt. Her jeans had a few holes in them and her shoes had definitely seen better days. It was January, in Maine. David wondered where this little girl’s winter coat was. The only possession she seemed to have was a red backpack which was swung over her shoulder.

“Come in, come in,” he said instantly, stepping to the side. Helen lead the little girl inside and he shut the door. “I’m David, and this is my wife, Mary Margaret.”

“David, Mary Margaret,” Helen said. “This is Emma.”

Mary Margaret was staring at Emma, almost as if she was looking at a ghost. David took in the little girl some more, trying to figure out where he had seen her before. She did indeed look a bit familiar. Maybe she just had one of those faces.

“Emma,” Helen continued. “Say hello.”

Emma’s pouty lips didn’t move up into a smile. “Hi,” she mumbled.

“We’re so happy you’re here, Emma,” Mary Margaret said, cheerily. “We’ve got your room all set up.”

“How many other kids are in it?”

“None. You’re our only foster kid at the moment.”

Emma tilted her head. “Really?”

“Yup.”

“Are you hungry?” David asked. “We were waiting to have lunch with you.”

Emma looked a bit skeptical but nodded. The four of them walked into the kitchen. Emma sat at the table while Mary Margaret and David filled out the paperwork that Helen had brought.

“Emma is probably going to be a bit easier than your last case,” Helen said. “But she’s still a challenge.”

David looked over his shoulder. Emma was sitting right there and Helen was saying all of this. “It’s nothing we can’t handle.”

“Just know you have my number and you can call me at any time.”

“That’s it?” Mary Margaret asked. Helen had stayed a bit longer when she dropped August off. “You don’t want to see her new room or anything?”

“You’ve been approved, I trust it’s up to code.” Helen walked over to Emma and knelt down to her height. “I’m going to head off now. I’ll be in touch with Mr. and Mrs. Nolan over the next few weeks. Please try here, Emma.”

Emma didn’t say anything, she just nodded. Helen sighed and gave her shoulder a squeeze. David walked her out and watched her drive away before heading back into the kitchen. Emma sat there, kicking her tiny legs and staring into space. The two adults shared a look, unsure of what to do at first. Finally, David swooped into the seat next to Emma.

“So, what’s your favorite food?” He asked. Emma didn’t say anything. “Mine is stew.”

Emma looked up at that, wrinkling her nose. “Stew?”

“My mom had a good recipe for it.”

“I like chicken noodle soup, but it’s not my favorite.”

“Well what is your favorite?” Emma bit her lip. “Emma, it’s okay to ask for something. If we don’t have it, we can go to the diner and have lunch there.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. So, tell me, if you could have anything to eat for lunch right now, what would you pick>”

Emma pondered his question for a few minutes before speaking. “Grilled cheese.”

David grinned. “Well as luck would have it, we have cheese, we have bread and we have a stove. I think I could accommodate that.”

Emma’s pout slowly rose to a bit of a smile. David got up from the table and started searching for the ingredients. Mary Margaret reached over to stroke his back and whisper “Thank you”.

October 24th, 2011

Emma was ready to leave this damn town. How had it not stuck out to her when Henry mentioned it? Storybrooke, of course. Emma had lived in a lot of places throughout her life, but this had been the strangest name. It had been one of the few places she lived in Maine before she had been moved to a home in Boston. In fact, the Nolans had been her last home in Maine.

She could hear the flurry of ballet flats behind her as she stormed down the hall. “Emma! Emma, wait!”

“I’m walking away, you should recognize the gesture.”

“Please, you have to just listen to me. We need to talk!”

“I don’t owe you anything.” And yet, she found herself stopping and flinging herself around. “This makes no sense! You don’t look a day older, that was like 20 years ago!”

“I…I don’t know. Things in this town…they’re weird.”

“You could say that.” Emma folded her arms over her chest. “Why the hell did you give Henry your credit card?”

“I didn’t! He must have stolen it.” She sighed. “He’s such a clever little boy. What I don’t understand is why he went to find you.”

“I’m his biological mother.”

Mary Margaret’s doe eyes softened even more. “You had a baby.”

“Yes, I had a child and I gave him up for adoption because I didn’t know how to be a mother. Maybe because the only examples in my life have only let me down.”

Mary Margaret looked like she had been smacked. “Emma, there’s so many things that I’ve wanted to tell you, so many things that I’ve wanted to say.” She reached out to touch her cheek. “Look at you, you’re all grown up.”

Emma pushed her hand away. “No! Don’t touch me!” She shook her head. “This is insane. You being so young, you pretending that you actually give a shit.”

“I always cared about you.”

“Bullshit! You let me go!”

“I didn’t have a choice! They took you away from us! We tried to fight but…”

“No, what I remember is you two promising me forever and then me being hauled off in the back of Helen’s station wagon.”

“It was way more complicated than that, sweets. You have to believe me.”

Sweets. That nickname burned a hole into her heart. It was exactly what Mary Margaret had called her when she was 5 years old. There had been a ton of nicknames. They made her feel loved, secured.

Now they just made her blood boil.

“Do you know where Henry is or not?”

“Emma…”

“This is all I care about right now. I want to find this kid, bring him back to his mom and get the hell out of this town before I lose my mind.”

Mary Margaret sighed. “Try his castle.”

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

David couldn’t remember why he wanted to be a sheriff. Some days, it seemed like a dream job. Others, he wished he could do something outside, in the open fields. He found himself driving past the abandoned farm that he and Mary Margaret had once talked about buying when he retired. If they hadn’t wanted kids, he would’ve bough it outright. For the sake of their family, he became a cop. He raised through the ranks and became sheriff.

Now, the station was pretty much his home. He paid rent on a house but he was only ever there to sleep. Once the man that cooked grand meals for his wife and foster daughter, now he got takeout from Granny’s or the Chinese place. Cooking for one wasn’t as fun. Occasionally he made baked goods for the department but he barely had the time anymore. Graham said he was a workaholic but it wasn’t like he had anything else going for him.

Speak of the devil, his deputy walked in front of his desk. “David, Mary Margaret’s here.”

He almost barked at his longtime friend not to make jokes but then he smelt his ex’s perfume. The mix of flowers was so intoxicating and reminded him why he avoided her in the first place. Every time David stepped within five feet of her he was reminded of one simple truth: he had never stopped loving her.

David got up from his desk and turned around, finding himself face to face with her. Mary Margaret was beautiful. Dark hair that complimented her pale skin and rosy cheeks. Her green eyes always popped up her subtle makeup. She typically dressed in cardigans and pleated skirts, and that day was no exception. The cardigan still hugged her curves and he was reminded of every time she had been in his arms…

But that was simply in the past.

They had been divorced for longer than he could remember. One minute, they had been blissfully married with a child they intended on adopting. The next, he was signing paperwork with a bottle of scotch beside him.

There was a lot of David’s past that he couldn’t remember, but the fighting was clear. Mary Margaret screaming at him for the smallest things. David sitting in his truck because for the life of him, he just didn’t want to come home. The day they sold that beautiful house that they had renovated and built love in together.

Why were those things so vibrant, while the good times so buried?

“What are you doing here?”

He doesn’t mean it to be harsh, but they both know that they avoid each other like the plague. They take turns going to Granny’s and the different stores. She rented a loft on Main Street while he had a house more in the suburbs. Two people that were once teased for being inseparable, now went out of their way to make sure they never saw one another.

“She’s come home, David,” Mary Margaret whispered.

David tilted his head. “Huh?”

“Emma. She’s come back to Storybrooke.”

David didn’t believe her. Not at first. Mary Margaret wouldn’t lie, but there was a period when every little girl with blonde hair had been Emma. “That’s impossible.”

“It’s not. She’s here…she’s grown up…”

“Grown up?”

“Mid to late 20s, I think.”

Had they been separated that long? Had time flown by without him knowing it?

“This makes no sense,” David said.

“I don’t know how it’s possible, but she’s here, David. She’s Henry’s biological mother.”

The mayor’s son. It was an unhidden secret that the young boy was adopted. Regina had never been married and she had just returned to town one day with a tiny baby boy. David saw them around town together over the years. He was probably the only thing that humanized the mayor.

And he was the son of his former foster daughter.

“This can’t be real,” he whispered. “She was gone for good.”

“That’s what I thought too but I saw her today. She came into my classroom with Regina looking for Henry. I guess he went looking for her and there’s been a lot of drama.”

“You saw her?” David’s heartbeat quickened. “Is she…”

“She seems healthy, but she was angry when she saw me. I think she’s going to try to leave town the first chance she gets.”

Mary Margaret took a step forward.

“I know a lot has changed between us David, but the one thing we still have in common is that we love her.” She bit her lip. “You have to help me keep her here. I can’t lose her again.”

David thought of the little girl he gave piggy back rides to. The one he watched football games with and played tea parties. The little girl that called him “Daddy” and lit up his heart.

She was back and he had probably almost seen her a dozen times. He couldn’t miss out on that again.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked.

#coming home verse #snowing #charming family #mama snow #daddy charming #emma swan #mary margaret blanchard #snow white #david charming #david nolan #ouat au #ouat #once upon a time

6 notes · View notes

tarralin · 6 years ago

Text

Gifts

Fox Hunt, Chapter Thirteen

(Moodboard gifted by @under-sengoku-skies)

~☆~

Mitsuhide didn't waste the day Nobunaga had gifted him.

The morning was spent playing a new game of guessing the origin of scars on them both. Each discovery led to new questions, new explorations until he could map out every marking upon her skin. Blades, bullets, the elements… the little harpy seemed to have no end of battle tales or missions she assured were mostly were successful despite the souvenirs she earned from them.

"This is an odd one…" his fingers traced a thinly raised semi-circle located on the back of her right thigh.

She was watching his exploration while perched on her elbows and, once he found his newest target, her head rolled as laughter boomed freely from her. "I was hoping you'd pass that one! It is by no means battle related and one you may need sake for."

"You pique my interest further, dearest, do tell.” He smirked while retrieving a carafe to pour them both a new cup.

Her eyes narrowed as she contemplated her thoughts before cautiously broaching a question. “Among your conversations with foreign traders, have you ever heard of the Sahara Desert?”

“Can't say that I have… Why, what is this ‘Sahara’?”

She pursed her lips in thought now before her eyes sparkled with a realization. “There's a beach line nearby with giant sand dunes isn't there?”

“You mean Tottori?”

“Yes, that's it! Imagine those sand dunes stretching over several nations to a size twenty-five times larger than all of Japan… and that would be the Sahara Desert.”

He blinked incredulously at her comparison. Were the lands beyond really so large? He always wondered at the haughty attitudes of the traders, and even his harpy spoke with lilt so far removed from theirs, it could only be explained by distance.

A clink on his cup from hers pulled his attention back. "I told you, you may need sake for it. I know many don't believe as Nobu does, but the world really is a much larger place than you may think. But that's another story for later.

“The mission was a simple agent extraction with RM and I on point while JR acted as lookout. We got the agent where she needed to be, but RM's transport contact for us ended up being a materialistic rat and sold us out. Lucky for us, a sand storm came out of nowhere and we managed to escape by running into it. We found the ruins of a house to ride out the rest of the storm and it was well into the night by the time it died down enough for us to build a fire. Once we did, RM dumped her bag in true RM fashion and everything scattered, one of those things being a hairspray can she packed from the mission and--"

"A what?"

"A hair oil," her eyes widened a fraction as if she hadn't meant to say so much before blinking with an explanation. "Specifically meant for styling. Back home, we have a special dispensing canister for it but when exposed to heat it can act as a bomb if left unnoticed. Well… neither of us noticed it until it was too late and beamed me right in the thigh. My whole leg went numb at first and then the pain started, felt like a gunshot and I couldn't walk until dawn! RM felt horrible but all I could do was laugh. Here we had just ran through town, dodging bullets and blades the whole time, yet she's the one who managed to incapacitate me for a time." Her shoulders trembled with mirth at the memory. "JR was furious when she found us the next day, saying only we would be crazy enough to run into a desert storm without rations of water."

"She'd rather you be killed by the pursuers?"

"That's what I said!" Another laugh while sipping her sake as his hands continued lower to her ankles and-- were his eyes playing tricks? His fingers delicately traced where the tips of several toes should have been. All three middle toes of her right foot, as well as the left's middle and adjacent right, ended at the first knuckle where crude, visible scarring revealed that she had indeed been born with them.

“You said you were held captive before, correct?”

She nodded once slowly as she downed her cup's remaining contents. “I was captured in Croatia, yes, but that didn't happen then. That occurred after I returned home.” Reluctance tensed her shoulders as he ran his palms over her calf in silent encouragement until she sighed with resolve and continued. “I told you before my eldest brother, Michael, and I haven't spoken a word to each other since we buried Mark and Macon, but that's not one hundred percent true…

~Five Years Earlier~

Mabel stared unblinking at the phone in front of her atop the kitchen counter for several long moments. After feeling nothing but an all-encompassing numbness in the weeks since Mark and Macon's burials, a single phone call-- from Michael of all people!-- blasted a much-needed breath of life through her entire being.

Life had only ever revolved around two primary objectives: proving her worth of Mother's name to Father, and forcing her eldest brother to acknowledge her existence. The latter of which she had actually given up on years ago. Yet, now it seemed there was finally a chance for peace as his words replayed in her mind.

"I know I've been nothing but an ass to you and I know it will probably take the rest of my life to make up for it, but would you have it in your heart to let me try?"

She still couldn't believe it really happened, even after checking the phone's call log four times. Sure, all this was no doubt brought on by grief and the fact that she was now the only blood he had left in the world but this was not an opportunity to let pass!

Hunting with Michael this weekend at the old lodge? Hell yeah!

Mabel was on the road within an hour after a quick text explaining the new plans to Jules and Rica, car packed with all she needed for three days of leisurely game...

A fit of insanity. That was the only thing that could explain why Michael bashed a vase into the back of her head when she entered the door. What other feasible reason was there for stringing her up like a hunted animal?

Struggling proved futile as her arms were rendered useless from the strain of hanging several feet above the ground. If she could just gain traction somewhere-- anywhere!-- maybe she could at least gnaw away at the ropes until they snapped loose but not a single chair or table adorned the processing shack. All game cleaning supplies had been removed from the room and her tether was so short she couldn't even plant a foot on the wall.

Not to mention the shack offered meager protection against the snow-laced winter winds of the mountain. The cold had long since soaked into her bones and numbed all feeling. White frost sparkled at the corners of her eyes in the morning sun that peeked through the edges of the window covers. Honestly, she'd never know how frostbite hadn't set in after two days like this as the forecast called for single digit temps all week.

"Well, well, well." Not even a thread of true surprise wound through Michael's sarcasm as he stepped through the door. The grin he boasted was suited for a kid in a toy store more than a man flourishing a pair of hedge trimmers. If it weren't for the meticulously assembled surgical scrubs and gloves he wore, she could almost fool herself into thinking he was going to cut her loose from the binding. "You're not a popsicle yet. Impressive."

It took several moments longer than she liked to push words through her chattering teeth. "Just lucky, I guess."

"Lucky?" Barely contained venom spewed now, transforming his voice from the honey smooth flow to a toxic stream of vitriol. "Is that how you explain why my brothers are dead?"

Those words froze the blood in her veins more effectively than the snow ever could as the puzzle snapped together and realization struck. This was no temporary psychosis. This was old fashioned revenge that had been carefully plotted and set with her exact brand of bait. How could I be so stupid?!

"You know, it doesn't really matter." He closed the door behind him as he straightened a surgeon's mask in place. "Why don't we play a game, hmm? I ask a question, you answer. Respond correctly and I'll cut into the ropes little by little; answer incorrectly--" the shink of metal brought her gaze back to the trimmers as he snapped them shut for emphasis "-- and I cut into you. Simple enough?"

"Go to Hell."

"Ooh, wrong answer."

~*~

It took all his years of practice for Mitsuhide to keep the fury from showing in the moments after her tale. Violence amongst family was not an uncommon occurrence, particularly when heirs quarreled regularly, but an uncontested eldest son turning against his younger sister? Only in one situation had he heard of such a thing.

"Vengeance?"

Another soft nod. "He's always blamed me for Mother's death. Then, Father passed not long before Croatia and he finally snapped."

"In your country, are such actions punishable?"

"Oh, definitely, but Michael was smart. He had a foolproof alibi with several of his friends backing it. Not to mention his extensive career and personal connections through the local government that would easily squash any kind of criminal charges against him. With no other witnesses or proof, it would have been just one giant waste of time."

"In other words, I get to enjoy a hunt across your homeland someday." He was already calculating the earliest he could leave the campaign to track down the degenerate when her lips landed softly over his collarbone as he returned to her side.

"Thank you but he's not worth your time."

His arms tightened around as his own lips brushed over the top of her head, an ever so dangerous sliver of hope coursing through him that she hadn't denied the possibility of a 'someday'. He cleared it from his thoughts and asked one last question of this past incident. "How did you free yourself?"

A dark huff of a laugh as she rolled her eyes. "I didn't. Apparently, the message I sent to my sisters was enough for them to know something was wrong. They found me just in time before freezing to death. After that, JR feared Michael would come after again me so the three of us dropped all use of our real names from then on. RM suggested using initials. See, in her family its tradition to name all firstborn daughters after the matriarch many generations ago. She has four other cousins-- plus an aunt-- that have the same name and they all go by something else when the family gathers."

"A great honor, what did the matriarch do to warrant such loyalty?"

"No one remembers! It's just an ingrained tradition now." A true smile bloomed as a small giggle escaped her. He laced his fingers through her hair as it reverberated through his chest, enjoying the warmth shining in her eyes after the dark clouds cleared from them and engraved the sight as best as he could into his memory. Something in his gaze sent a flash of his favorite scarlet dancing across her nose. "What is it?"

Oh, how nicely you've opened up for an attack. Must not waste this opportunity… "Simply deciding and plotting out all the ways to bring out that delicious coloring of yours."

"As if you know the meaning of the word!" Laughter abounded freely as he flipped her suddenly, pinning her wrists above her head. "Half the day is gone, so you better get started."

~*~

The next dawning sun signaled the time to return to Azuchi, but not until he made sure not a strand of hair or a slip of fabric among her ensemble were out of place. It would not do for her to be sacrificed to the castle rumor mill. Regardless of her indifference to the subject, he would not hear of her name making rounds in the wrong kind of circles.

“Mitsuhide,” she sighed once more as he glanced about the alleyway they traveled leading to the castle, wrapping herself around his arm. “That's really not necessary.”

“I know the extent rumors can stretch. Mere whispers grow into whirlwinds which grow into monsoons until they destroy all one has built.”

She pulled him to a stop beside her, hands locking behind his neck to force him to meet her gaze. “They're not exactly rumors if it's true, right? We don't have time to worry about what anyone outside our circle thinks and I'm sure most of them suspected this. Besides...” she ran her hands down his torso, straightening the edges of his scarf as she went. “It will take a lot more than a monsoon to destroy me, Mitsuhide.”

Perhaps it is best she's chosen to leave... Buddha knows I don't deserve her.

Her fingers came back to his face as if she were trying to memorize it again; as if she could hear his thoughts. If she did, she made no further comment. Simply gifted him that glimpse of sunshine in her smile before she had to turn down the castle path toward the servant quarters where the maids were probably awaiting her instructions.

He watched as she transformed back to the Chatelaine known throughout Azuchi with each step until she was out of sight. He’d have to wait out the daylight hours until he could work on uncovering more hidden pieces to the lovely puzzle that he was running out of time to solve.

But he would try… starting with the arrival of her 'gift'.

~*~

MC stood in front of the audience chamber door with a loaded tea cart at hand. It would be the first war council she attended since the attack two weeks ago. Not to mention the first while working alongside a lover. They hadn't discussed their comfortable level of publicity yet, so she would continue on as if nothing had happened between them and simply watch for any clues he gave.

Looking out for a kitsune's signals? This should be interesting…

Getting right to work as she entered, she filled everyone's teacups while they waited for the two remaining warlords to arrive. Both Hideyoshi and Mitsuhide had yet to show.

"My, my," Nobu's voice took on that brotherly teasing note as he flicked a lock of hair over her shoulder with the end of his writing brush, revealing the very distinctive markings she had tried to conceal. "Looks like you had a restful day indeed. Tell me, spent with anyone interesting?"

You massive troll, like you have to ask! Ugh, no point in hiding it now. "Not you obviously."

"Oh, is the kitten out of the bag already?" Masa's eye gleamed with mischief as he attempted to take her hand in his. "I'd hoped to keep it secret a little longer."

"Not you either!" A light punch in the shoulder accompanied her retort. "No one in this room, okay?"

Hideyoshi arrived at that moment with several letters in hand. "I've retrieved those reports you asked for--" his eyes stopped instantly upon a certain empty seat and released a defeated sigh. "Where is Mitsuhide now?"

Ieyasu was the first to quip a response. "Not in this room."

Nobu's knowing grin grew as he answered Hideyoshi. "He's attending to important business, he'll be here shortly. Let's begin."

The meeting flew by as MC read through her own reports on the renovation project while keeping an eye on the gathered lord's tea as the hours dwindled down.

Oh, time to refill the porcupine...

She had just stood when the door slid open and Mitsuhide entered with his usual smirk in place. "Apologies for my tardiness, but an important delivery was delayed."

Nobu visibly perked at the news. "Ah, the new information has arrived then?"

"It has." Mitsuhide turned toward MC as Ieyasu held his teacup for her to fill. "Dear Chatelaine, allow me."

"I'm nearly healed, Kitsune. A teapot is not likely to do me in."

"If you insist…" He held his palms up in surrender as he paced back to the door, sliding it open and gestured for someone to enter. "Come along now."

She shook her head while focusing on the scowling salt-lick before her--

"MC?"

--until a voice she'd recognize anywhere sent the teapot currently filling Ieyasu's cup to the floor as shock stole the strength from MC's hand. Abandoning the cursing warlord, she spun toward the voice to ensure her eyes weren't playing tricks on her but there was no mistaking the obsidian haired Latina.

"JR?"

~☆~

#ikesen #ikesen mitsuhide #ikesen fox hunt #ikemen sengoku #ikemen sengoku fanfic #ikesen fanfic #fox hunt #my writing #ikesen Nobunaga #ikesen Hideyoshi #ikesen Masamune #ikesen Ieyasu #ikesen oc

56 notes · View notes

wild3flow3r · 6 years ago

Photo

Chapter Four

December 21st

Lorelai couldn’t hide the skip in her step this morning when she exited the elevator on the Clemens & Son floor. It was the Friday before Christmas. That meant a four day weekend where she got to go home and spend time with her family who she hasn’t seen in months. She missed all of them dearly, although she knew that on her second day of visiting she’d want to murder nearly all of her siblings by how bloody annoying they could get. That didn’t mean she loved them any less though.

A few minutes later, once Lorelai had put her coat on the rack and was logging onto her computer, Harry stepped off the elevator. He was unwinding his scarf from around his neck as he stared at her with curious eyes. Lorelai didn’t even realize she was still smiling from the thoughts of seeing her family.

“You’re looking chipper this morning,” Harry comments as he places his scarf and coat right next to hers on the rack.

“‘Tis the season to be jolly,” Lorelai shoots back, her eyes never leaving her computer screen.

“For like a week and a half until the holidays end, and then everyone is reminded of how much they hate winter when all the snow storms start rolling in.” Harry grabs his briefcase that he had momentarily placed on the floor before heading towards the hall where his office was.

“Of course you would try to find a way to ruin the magic of winter. You never had any fun or imagination as a child, did you?” Lorelai asks rhetorically.

“You got me there,” Harry calls out before strolling the rest of the way to his office, shutting the door behind him.

Lorelai shakes her head, at Harry and to shake off any negative feelings he was trying to spread so she could stay in her good mood. Just one more day, she reminded herself under a quiet breath, before she started replying to emails for Bertram.

Two hours passed before Bertram finally exited his office to greet Lorelai for the day. It was obvious he had been napping in there for quite some time by the drowsy look on his face, and Lorelai had also heard him snoring away for the last hour.

“Good day, Miss Sterling,” Bertram starts as he walks over to her desk.

“Mister Clemens, how are you?” Lorelai plasters the fakest smile she can muster onto her face.

“I’m doing well, yes. I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be away early next week for the holidays.” He grabs a mint out of a jar she keeps on her desk.

Lorelai stares up at him with her eyebrows furrowed. “The entire office is closed at the beginning of next week, sir.”

“No it’s not, I’ve decided to keep it open.”

Lorelai’s body becomes rigid at the news. Her eyes widen and her face begins to turn red in anger. “When did you decide that?”

“Last week.”

“And were you ever going to let me know?”

Bertram eyes her with an unamused look on his face. “I’m letting you know now.”

“But sir, you’re letting me know at the last possible minute. I had plans-”

“So then cancel them. I expect you and Mister Styles here at work next week at your regular time, and no early dismissals either.”

“But it’s going to be Christmas-”

“I’m giving you New Years off, Miss Sterling. Take what you get and be happy with it. God, everybody’s got a complaint about everything.” Bertram shakes his head, clearly annoyed, but Lorelai felt like he had no reason to be.

She didn’t like Bertram before. She didn’t think she hated him, she just thought he was rude and insensitive, but she didn’t hate him. But now that he had stolen her Christmas from her, her getting to spend time with her family, she knew that Bertram was now placed on the list of people that Lorelai hoped went to Hell.

“Tell Mister Styles for me, won’t you? I’ve got other things to handle,” Bertram goes back to his office immediately, closing the door behind him with a quiet bang. Lorelai knew the ‘other things to handle’ meant that he was going to continue the nap he was having before.

Lorelai sat there in shock and slight defeat. How was she going to explain this to her mother? She’s never missed a Christmas with her family. Never had she missed the traditions of baking cookies, her father reading to his children, and now his grandchildren, ‘Twas The Night Before Christmas and The Grinch, and then finally everybody huddled around the television to watch whatever Christmas movie was on at the moment. Her holiday was stolen from her and there would be memories made without her there. She had a new niece and nephew this Christmas, it was their first Christmas, and she wouldn’t get to spend it with them.

She knew she could go home for New Years instead, but most of her siblings would have plans that wouldn’t consist of each other. Her own parents would be going to a party their close friends were throwing, and of course they would invite Lorelai along but she didn’t think she would want to ring in her New Years with a bunch of people she didn’t really know who were twice her age. Lorelai had train tickets to cancel, and most likely not get a refund for, and she had to now mail all of her presents immediately in hopes that they would arrive on time.

She also had to tell Harry the terribly horrible news. Although he’d probably take it with glee.

Lorelai stands up, straightens her skirt out, and takes a deep breath before she heads down the hall to Harry’s office. She knocks on the door twice and immediately Harry responds by calling out to her that she can come in. She steps into the office and is immediately met with a frown on Harry’s face.

“Are you okay?” he asks while standing up, but he makes no motion to move towards her. “You look like you’re about to be sick.”

Maybe she was going to be. Lorelai couldn’t even imagine what Harry was seeing in this moment. She was on the verge of tears, tears that she held back to the best of her ability because she didn’t want Harry to see them, and her face was flushed. It wasn’t her best look.

Lorelai takes two steps forwards before slumping down in a chair Harry had in there for his clients. Harry steps around his desk and towards her cautiously. He probably thought she was going to get sick and it would end up all over his expensive shoes.

“Bertram’s ruined Christmas,” Lorelai finally lets out before hunching over and placing her elbows on top of her knees and her head into her hands.

“What do you mean?” His voice was clearly confused at both her words and how he should handle her in this exact moment.

“He said we have to work next week, for the entire week! New Years we get off, and we should be happy with that, he said. Couldn’t even tell you himself, had me do it for him. He’s such an arsehole, oh my god.”

“He’s not giving us Christmas off?” Lorelai could tell by the tone of his voice that Harry didn’t really care. It was probably just another day for him.

“He’s giving himself off, but not us. We have to come in like it’s any old day of work.”

“And he’s just telling us now?” Harry’s voice finally took on an annoyed edge. The sound of it had Lorelai look up from her hands to see that maybe Harry was just as annoyed as her.

“Said he decided it last week, just brought it up with me now though.”

Harry stands in front of Lorelai and then leans back so he’s sitting on the edge of his desk and his palms are holding up most of his weight. He lifts one hand to pinch the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and his eyes close.

“Dad’s gonna give me such hell for this,” Harry mutters to himself rather than to Lorelai. He likely didn’t even mean to say that in front of her, but at the moment he was too pissed off to care. “We’ll be here for no reason. No clients are going to show. We’re just going to sit around on our arses and stare at the walls for eight hours.”

Lorelai couldn’t believe it. For once, she and Harry agreed on something.

“I’ll try to talk to him about it, but chances are he won’t change his mind,” Harry grumbles before standing up once more and going back to the other side of the desk.

Lorelai stands as well. “Well let me know as soon as you do. I’ve got about thirty presents that’ll need to be shipped express if we don’t get off.” There was a clench in Lorelai’s stomach as she imagined the amount of money that would cost her, especially as short notice as it is.

“Will do,” Harry responds before sighing quietly. Lorelai leaves his office without another word.

***

Harry wasn’t able to change Bertram’s mind. She knew before he spoke the words, before he walked out of Bertram’s office with his face sporting a murderous look, before she heard them arguing over muttered breaths, even before Harry stepped into Bertram’s office to have the conversation. Lorelai knew Bertram, and he didn’t care about anyone but himself.

After he told her, Harry stormed down the hall to his office. He didn’t slam the door as he was never unprofessional, but it did shut with a louder thud than it usually did.

Lorelai took this as the time to call her mother and finally reveal the news.

“Lorelai, my love, is anything wrong? Shouldn’t you be at work?”

Lorelai’s lip trembles at just the sound of her mother's voice. She misses her so much. “I am, I am.” She takes a deep breath before finally letting the news slip. “I just… I just found out that I have to work on Christmas.”

There’s silence on the other side of the phone, but it’s so silent that Lorelai can hear a soft ringing in her ear. Lorelai hunches over her desk and leans her forehead onto one of her hands.

“And you’ve just found out?”

“Yes,” Lorelai whispers.

“I don’t know what to say, darling. If you have to work then you have to work. I mean, we’ll all miss you very much, but I don’t know what else to say.”

“I’m sorry,” she finally murmurs out, her throat beginning to feel clogged by how badly she wanted to cry.

“I’m fine, darling, really. We know it isn’t your fault.” Her mother’s beat down tone of voice only makes Lorelai feel worse.

“I just-”

“Lorelai!” Bertram interrupts her next words, standing with one foot outside of his office. “I’ve been calling you for the last two minutes! Are you going deaf? Who are you on the phone with? Is that a personal call?” Bertram eyes slowly narrow with each word that passes his lips.

“Mum I’ve got to.. I’ve got to go.” Lorelai ends the call before her mother could utter another word.

“When I hired you,” Bertram starts with venom in his tone, “I hired you to do your job and nothing else. Don’t let me catch you making a personal phone call again.” He turns around, and very much unlike Harry, he slams the door behind him so hard that Lorelai is surprised there isn’t a crack made into one of the walls surrounding it.

No matter how angry Harry was, he opens his office door and peeks his head out to check what the noise was. Lorelai swivels her chair around as soon as she spots Harry and looks out the window. How she wished to be one of those other people who were running around down there on the street. She was sure at least one of them didn’t feel as miserable as she did right in this moment. Her bottom lip wobbles and Lorelai has to take huge breaths to try and stop the urge to cry.

She hears Harry slowly start to walk down the hall like he was approaching a wild animal. “Lorelai, are you… are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Lorelai whispers. She knew if she had spoken any louder then Harry would really hear how broken she felt. “I just want to be alone right now, please.”

Lorelai always demanded things of Harry, just like he did to her, so when she spoke the word please to him, for the first time ever, Harry turned around and headed back to his office without another word.

December 24th

Lorelai was dreading heading back to work today. There were so many reasons why she didn’t want to go, the main one being that she should have been back in her hometown, but her dread also stemmed from how terrible her last day of work had been. She never had fond memories of the place, but after last Friday her mood towards her job turned even more negative. She supposes the only good thing about going to work today, and for the majority of this week, was that Bertram wouldn’t be present, but not even that positive would make her feel any better.

When Lorelai arrived home on Friday night, the first thing she did was call her mother to apologize for the abrupt end to their phone call. After apologizing a couple dozen times and promising to send everyone's gifts the following day, they had to end the call because a few of Lorelai’s older siblings were finally arriving for their long weekend. That only made Lorelai feel even worse. She spent the rest of her night lying in bed and sobbing until she eventually fell asleep.

Now as she lazily strolled into work on Christmas Eve, Lorelai was not feeling any better. On what was supposed to be one of the most festive days of the year, Lorelai was feeling anything but. For the entirety of the eight hours she had to work, Lorelai played Solitaire on her computer as it was the only game that would download on the cheap computer Bertram allowed her to work on. Harry had arrived to Clemens & Son earlier than her, and not once did he leave his office until three minutes before the clock struck five.

Like clockwork, both Harry and Lorelai were getting ready to leave at their assigned time. Harry was walking down the hall with his coat on and his briefcase in his hand while Lorelai was winding her scarf around her neck. He stood four feet away from her desk and watched as the clock on the wall ticked down their last two minutes of work for the day. He then finally looked at Lorelai when there was only ninety seconds left, now she was also ready to bolt out of the room as soon as she could.

“You’ve got any big plans for tonight, Sterling?” Harry finally breaks the long silence Lorelai’s been suffering through all day.

Her head snaps towards his with confusion in her brows. “Just gonna go home and watch a movie, I guess,” she answers. She didn’t know why he was asking, probably just so he could make the time go faster for himself. “What about you? Gonna spend whatever's left of the day with your family?”

“My family usually takes a vacation this week together, so I was left in London all alone. There’s this pub about a street over from here that’s actually open. I’ll probably stop by there for a few pints before finally calling it a night.”

Lorelai thought that would have been the end of their conversation. She didn’t know how to reply, so she didn’t, and besides there was only fifteen seconds left before they could leave. Fourteen. Thirteen. Twelve. Eleven. Ten.

“Would you… Would you like to come along?”

Lorelai freezes at the question. Did she want to come along? Did she want to spend more time with Harry outside of the workplace?

“Yes,” she answers, and she promises herself it was only because she didn’t want to spend Christmas Eve alone.

***

Lorelai wanted to smack Harry Styles across his face.

“What do you mean you’ve never listened to ABBA before?”

Harry had taken her to a pub called The Royal Oak. The two of them had scored two seats right at the bar before the place got really packed with other people who were made to work on this day and couples who decided to go out. The two of them were forced to sit shoulder to shoulder, and Harry often needed to force his head down towards hers so that he could properly hear her whenever she spoke and also when he wanted to tell her something. They were about four drinks in when Lorelai started probing him with questions now that she was tipsy and a bit loose lipped. He often avoided answering her, but when she asked what his favorite ABBA song is, he let it slip that he never listened to any of their songs before.

“I mean I’ve never listened to them before,” he replied, his lips nearly pressed against her ear.

“No wonder you’re so grumpy all the time! I’ve never met a person who's listened to Dancing Queen and was as grumpy as you!”

Harry waves the bartender over and he refills both of their now empty mugs.

“Dancing Queen won’t fix all of my problems,” he finally responds.

“Oh, I beg to differ.” Lorelai turns her head slightly so that she can properly look at him. She thinks she spots of ghost of a smile on his lips, but then again the alcohol in her system wouldn’t let her think as properly as she usually does.

Harry leans away from her momentarily so that he can take a sip of his drink. In the meantime, Lorelai had begun to sing the chorus of the song under her breath. When Harry realizes he can’t help but let a small chuckle pass his lips.

“What are you doing?”

“See! It’s already working! I’ve sung one line and you’re already less grumpy!”

Harry shakes his head and lifts his mug once more to take a drink, but this time, unbeknownst to Lorelai, it was to hide an oncoming smile.

They stay silent for a few moments. Lorelai was happily sipping away at her new drink and listening to the conversations surrounding her. She couldn’t make a word of what any of them were saying, but hearing people talking over one another was better than complete silence. She nearly jumped out of her seat when Harry started speaking into her ear once more.

“Is it true you’ve got twenty nieces and nephews?”

Lorelai stares up to him while Harry slowly backs away. Her mouth tips down slightly, but more in befuddlement than an actual frown.

“How’d you know that?” Harry stares at her lips to read them now that he wasn’t hunching over to hear her. He does lean forward to respond though.

“You mentioned it one time in passing. Didn’t feel that time was the proper time to ask you but,” Harry shrugs his shoulders. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“I’ve got eleven nieces and nine nephews. The oldest is sixteen, and the youngest was just born last September.”

“How many brothers and sisters do you have?”

If Lorelai wasn’t tipsy, leaning towards drunk, then she wouldn’t be telling Harry any of this information. But she loved to talk when she was drunk, whether it was to someone or to herself, and she didn’t place Harry as a threat in this state of mind.

“Seven. Three older sisters, one older brother, one younger brother, and two younger sisters. That makes me child number five. All of them have had children except for me. Well, Carmen technically hasn’t had any children yet either, but she’s four months pregnant with a man she’s only met five months ago who is also ten years older than her. My mum and dad were so pissed, but then they had dinner with him and everything seemed to have smoothed over.”

Harry’s eyes stayed glued to hers as she spoke, like he was honestly interested in what she had to say about her family. And he didn’t tell her to stop, so she just went on and continued telling him about all of her siblings.

“My oldest sister, Valerie, she had her first baby when she was sixteen. I was only eleven at the time so I didn’t really understand any of it until Faye was born and cried all throughout the night keeping everybody awake. Mum and dad loved them so much, but they had the rest of us kids to think about so they told Valerie and her husband, who was her boyfriend at the time, that they had to move out. They were so upset with my parents at first, but they eventually got over it. They had four more kids after Faye, their youngest just turned eleven a few months ago.

“Next is Lawrence. He has six children with four different women, four girls and two boys. He had his first kid when he was nineteen back in 2006, and his last one last March. He’s married now to Tessa, Ven and Pace’s mum. The two girls he had before that, the twins Fran and Faith, he has full custody over them because their mum’s not exactly stable. But he’s got pretty good relationships with his other daughters mum’s, so they can usually split their parenting time between them evenly.

“Then there’s Nella, who also had her first baby when she was nineteen. That was a failed relationship though but they're pretty good at co-parenting. She was on her own for about four years before she found her current husband, and they had two more kids. Maggie waited until she was twenty-two to have her first child. She got pregnant before she could finish uni so she didn’t finish, but she seems pretty happy. She’s had three more kids since then.

“Jones, he’s my brother and also my best friend, he married a girl who lived down the street from us who we were both friends with, Lauren. I always knew the two of them would get married, everyone did. They were married for two years before they finally had their baby girl Rebecca, but Lauren died during childbirth.” Lorelai finally takes a pause in her story to think about her friend she lost. She felt the worse for Jones, and she always tried to help him out whenever she could, all of her family did.

Lorelai shakes her head to rid herself of those thoughts and continues on before Harry could say anything. “After Jones is Carmen, and I’ve already told you about her. Then the baby is Darla. She had her first baby back in 2017 when she was twenty-two. She’s planning her wedding now with the baby’s dad, and I know they’re trying to have a second child by next year. At least that’s what Jones has told me.

“And finally there’s me. I didn’t want children at that young of an age like my siblings did. I watched all of them grow and have babies, but then they all got stuck living twenty minutes away from each other. Which is fine for them, because that’s what they wanted, but that’s not what I wanted. So I moved to London right after uni and I took the first job I was offered, which is where I am now. But now I’m stuck at this job working for the absolute worst man I’ve ever met in my entire life, with another man who hates me. I’ll be stuck here for the rest of my life.”

Harry frowns at her words, but she doesn’t care enough to figure out which part of her sentence upset him. “You won’t be stuck there for the rest of your life.”

“And how do you know?”

Harry shrugs, finally turning away from her after he had been paying such close attention to her while she had been telling her story. “I just do.”

#1dff #cmiyc #cmiyc4 #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #one direction fanfiction #let me know what you thinkkkkkk #im excited for this one :)

52 notes · View notes

ambitionsource · 6 years ago

Photo

AMBITION Season 1 ♫ “Before the Storm” [ 1.11 ]

CREATED BY Esther (rapunzles) & Maggie (quincywillows)

CH-CH-CH-CHANGES – The sophomore stars throw their hat in the ring for the chance to attend a highly regarded performance summer program, but only three students can progress from Adams to the final audition. Lucas has a daunting decision to make.

60 Minutes (15K words) || No warnings apply.

[ ← Birds of a Feather ] [ S1 Synopsis ] [ The World Will Never Be the Same → ]

( Follow along with the music on Spotify here! )

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

The halls of Adams greet us for the penultimate episode, cutting between shots of the setting we’ve come to know and love. Through windows in the doors, students rehearse in the music and dance studios. The locker hallways are pristine and decorated for the end of term. Graduation memorabilia is all around.

As the scenery shifts, the voice of Principal Hunter lectures on the importance of the school, everything that the institution stands for. Next to bulletin boards where students are welcome to jot down their summer plans to share, a display case in the atrium shows photos and mementos from the past school year. Les Mis is certainly included, as well as the winter showcase.

Jack: Adams exists to give students the chance to pursue a passion. Something important to them, so pivotal to their future endeavors and true happiness that they can’t even fathom doing anything else. It’s a silly notion, to some, but I’ve always admired that piece to it. That chance to give a young mind the power and potential to do whatever it is that they’ve always dreamed about.

Focus eases in on one advertisement on the bulletin board in particular – an informational flyer about the Kossal Summer Program, which has been referenced multiple times since the pilot. In bold lettering, the text “rising juniors only,” seems sharply emphasized.

Jack: More than anything, I try to give our students as much opportunity as possible. Getting here was the first step, and then I want to help them reach higher. Achieve further. Find access to doors and avenues that they may not have even known existed or felt capable of entering. I work hard to create that space. I work hard with all of the faculty and staff here to foster that environment, where any student can come to a safe, inclusive environment and throw their hat in the ring.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

It becomes clear why JACK HUNTER is monologuing. He is in his disciplinary meeting with WYATT LIVINGSTON, following their deduction that he is the one running AAA Confessions.

Jack: Thus, it’s always such a shame when someone deems to take advantage of this space, and twists it into something it shouldn’t be.

Wyatt doesn’t seem all that impressed. Jack questions him on why the hell he would create a page like this, or barring that, be a part of it in the first place. Wyatt claims he didn’t make the Insta, but Jack presses the question again. Not buying it.

Wyatt dispels Jack’s rosy view of the school, claiming it’s no oasis for creativity and collaboration. It’s a cesspool of egomaniacs and cutthroat competition, and he knows it. The whole reason that the AAAC even works at all is because of the collective terrible attitude at the school. It’s a “safe environment” for them to take shots at each other and be as repulsive and reductive as they all actually are.

Jack snaps at this, claiming that’s not entirely true. He references the very targeted attack on a single student just a few days ago with Lucas, which Wyatt clearly orchestrated and was not just the full petty whimsy of the student body. Unable to fully deny this, Wyatt admits his hand in making some of the initial posts, but he didn’t orchestrate anything. If anything, the Lucas White Trash Dump Day is a perfect example of what he’s talking about – he lit a match, and the sophomore class set the whole forest on fire with it.

Wyatt: Besides, it’s not my fault that everyone hates Lucas. He does that to himself.

Jack doesn’t want to hear anymore. He doesn’t think he can face it. He moves onto discussing punishment, positing what he believes are fair consequences – expulsion, effective immediately. This finally seems to knock Wyatt off his high horse. He claims that’s bullshit considering one student can beat up another and not get kicked out, but he makes a couple of mean anonymous posts and he’s on the chopping block?

Jack argues that it’s the principle of the thing, and that every situation is different. The situation between him and Lucas was an isolated incident with bigoted implications, whereas the page has been an ongoing toxic presence at the school –

Wyatt: But I don’t deserve to get punished for it! I didn’t create the page!

Jack: Fine. Fine, if that’s the case, then tell me who did. Tell me who should take the fall for this, and we can renegotiate your involvement.

Wyatt can’t, because he doesn’t know. Nobody does. Jack takes his silence as an admission of guilt, but it’s evident that he is truly distraught about taking the consequences for it. Perhaps the severity of the punishment may be a bit too harsh…

After a beat, Jack claims that he will take some time to determine the proper punishment. Until then, Wyatt would be smart to keep his head down and enjoy his last couple weeks of sophomore year without further trouble.

Wyatt rises in a huff, storming out. Jack waits until he exits before letting his composed facade crumble, obviously overwhelmed by the chaos this whole situation has caused.

Hopefully, it’s about to come to an end. But not without some major decisions…

Cue opening titles.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

ANGELA MOORE is at her desk in the black box classroom, fretfully flipping through the schedule of the touring spot she’s been offered. She’s cross-referencing it with her personal calendar, obviously not thrilled with how much it’s consuming of her current life.

She’s been waiting so long for an opportunity like this. It’s her dream, yet now that it’s in front of her she doesn’t know what to do with it. Angela lifts her head, gazing blankly at the empty classroom around her. Wondering what it would be like to leave it behind…

SHAWN HUNTER breaks her out of her daze, entering with coffee and a breakfast bagel. He hands it to her and she takes it gratefully. He tentatively asks if she’s made any decisions yet, to which she gives a definitive no. Still very much in the realm of indecision.

Shawn seems relieved that it’s not a guaranteed yes, but being in uncertain territory isn’t much better. But uncertain ground they’ll continue to tread…

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Ain’t It Fun” as performed by Tufts Beezlebubs || Performed by Nigel Chey, Yindra Amino, Chai Fresco, Nick Yogi, Clarissa Cruz, and Haley Fisher

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

NIGEL CHEY leads this acapella rendition, playfully rehearsing with his fellow sophomores. It’s one of the few numbers we’ve seen so far that gives due focus to the other performers in the classroom, and it gives an upbeat (if subtly ominous) musical start to the episode.

He dances around the stage with YINDRA AMINO, CHAI FRESCO, NICK YOGI, CLARISSA CRUZ, and HALEY FISHER. In keeping with the truce, most of the techies are hanging around with them and half-grooving along while working on set pieces. DYLAN ORLANDO sways with ASHER GARCIA in a bouncy waltz, the latter somewhat singing along.

DAVE WILLIAMS shows off his usual terrible dancing. Nigel sings directly to JADE BEAMON at one point, and she just about passes out. Yogi films the jam session with his A/V club camera to commemorate the end of the year.

Absolutely charmed.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

While the acapella underscores, FARKLE MINKUS is making his way through the hallway after finishing up at his locker, headphones blocking out the rest of the world. He seems a little out of it, traversing the school with less of the impatient, high-maintenance energy than he was bursting with earlier in the year. Subtle, but definitely a shift.

DARBY WINTERS and SARAH CARLSON catch up to him, startling him into conversation. As he removes his headphones, he struggles to catch up to their fast-paced questioning.

Darby: … your audition number? We want to start taking bets on whether you’re going to be able to best Maya or not in this final epic diva showdown.

Farkle: My audi – okay, slow down pixies, and start over. I can’t understand you at warp speed.

They eagerly ask him if he has decided what song he’s using for his audition. Suddenly feeling as though he’s forgotten something, he asks them what the hell they’re talking about.

Sarah: The Kossal auditions? They’re this weekend. Preliminaries are going to be all this week. [ Like he’s stupid. ] You know, the most coveted opportunity of the year?

Farkle: Oh. Oh… yeah. Yeah, I guess I forgot.

Sarah raises her eyebrows, clearly shocked. Darby breezes right past it, telling him he should really start thinking about it, although he’s likely to do amazing regardless. As they flutter away, Farkle shakes off his daze.

He honestly can’t believe he forgot about the program he’s been waiting all year to audition for. But suppose when you actually get friends and stop being all-consumed by your one passion, that’ll do it to you.

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - DAY

ERIC MATTHEWS is sitting down with RILEY MATTHEWS, obviously excited about whatever information he’s about to share with her. She still has her focus set on a different matter, though, and figures that’s what the meeting is going to be about.

Riley, hopefully: You’ve figured out who is running AAAC?

Eric: … still working on that. But making progress, undoubtedly.

Riley sighs, slouching back in her seat. Eric promises her that what he has to tell her is just as exciting, another great opportunity here at the end of term. He goes on to explain that at the conclusion to each school year, Michael Jacobs and the school board fund an art gala in which all the major art magnet schools from the area come together to celebrate their achievements of the past year and share in their love of the craft.

He slides a small invitation across the table for her to look at. On the front is a fancy-looking ballroom where the event is usually held, with details and logistics on the backside.

Eric: Now, obviously Jack and I will be attending, as principal and MVP of Adams.

[ Riley glances at him, giggling at his given title for himself. ]

Eric: But we’re allowed to bring one student as a representative for our school, and we were thinking you.

Riley: [ blinking, taking a moment to realize she heard him correctly ] Me – me? You want me?

Eric: The nomination was unanimous.

Riley is evidently stunned by this. Eric goes on to explain all that she helped achieve at AAA that year, particularly how instrumental she was in bridging the divide and improving the overall quality of culture in the sophomore class. There is no one else they can think of more deserving of the opportunity. She should be proud of everything she’s accomplished this year.

The caveat, however, is that the gala conflicts with the district-wide audition evening for Kossal. So should she get chosen from the school-level auditions to progress onward, she would have to decide which one to attend. Riley claims she’s not planning on auditioning anyway.

Eric: What? Why on Earth not?

Riley: Are you – are you serious? You literally just said to me –

Eric: You know, you’re right. You’re right, shh. We’ll unpack that later.

Eric opts instead to highlight all the fun aspects to the gala that Riley should start gearing up for. She gets to dress up! There’s performances, and dancing, and great food! Oh, and she gets to bring a plus one, so she should start thinking about who she might like to bring along.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Class has assembled for the day, bustling into their seats and alive with restless end-of-term energy as Angela brings their attention to the front. She goes on to talk further about the Kossal program, how it is an intensive six-week summer camp in upstate New York where participants are deeply immersed in the art of performance. It is one of the most highly anticipated opportunities of the year for the sophomore class. The program boasts many notable alumni, and they’ve rarely had a student attend it from AAA who didn’t see success in their future.

As she describes it, it’s evident that MAYA HART and Farkle are both totally invested. ZAY BABINEAUX seems inspired too, but less openly determined than the other two divas. Everyone else is somewhere in between, indecisive about whether it’s worth it to try for it at all.

Angela continues on, explaining the catch – given it’s highly selective criteria, the audition process is staggered and competitive. It starts at the school level, where they will select three of their best students to move on to the district-wide auditions. From there, one lucky student from Adams will get to experience the program.

The techies are like… great. This week is going to be hell, isn’t it. ISADORA DE LA CRUZ exchanges a look with DYLAN ORLANDO and ASHER GARCIA, who look less than enthused. Angela dismisses them to work on their auditions or final projects, whichever they deem fit.

In the wings, Farkle pulls Maya aside. In an attempt to preserve their new and blossoming friendship, he proposes that they should help one another with their auditions. Essentially, be there to support one another rather than fall into their usual habits. Given the circumstances, it’s very unlikely that they both won’t progress to the next round, and he doesn’t want their naturally competitive instincts to come between them.

Maya is surprised and a bit hesitant towards this initiative, but she’s not going to be the one to cause trouble. Besides, as far as she can tell, Farkle does seem entirely genuine in his motivations. She agrees with a “hell yeah,” taking a pass on the drama if they can hack it.

They shake on it, agreeing they’ll be on each other’s teams.

INT. AAA - CAFETERIA - DAY

Zay is at his usual table, YINDRA AMINO and NIGEL CHEY occupying the other primary seats around him. They’re engaging in their typical comfortable conversation, Zay allowing them to take the brunt of it.

His focus shifts when CHARLIE GARDNER approaches with lunch in hand, coming to stand awkwardly by their table. He and Zay hold eye contact for a long moment, before Charlie asks if there’s room for him to join them. Although there’s clear tension, Yindra and Nigel don’t seem to pick up on it.

Zay claims there’s room, because he actually has to get going. He rises to leave without much more to say to Charlie. It’s clear this stings a bit, and Charlie watches him go before sliding into the seat he just vacated.

Yindra snaps him out of it when she asks whether or not he’s planning on auditioning for the Kossal program. Charlie says no, as he has a family obligation – there’s this big communal springfest dinner at his church that same night that is super important to his parents. His mother is part of the planning committee, and all that.

Nigel explains that he and Yindra were both considering it, but with only three spots and three known divas, it sort of seems like improbable odds. Charlie nods along, but he’s not really paying that much attention to their complaints. His gaze keeps lingering on the doors where Zay left.

INT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - DAY

LUCAS FRIAR hastily makes his way from the hall to his bedroom towards the door, obviously on a mission. He has his phone pressed between his shoulder and his ear, slipping on his boots.

Lucas: I’ll be there in like five minutes, you can pick me up at the usual corner. [ a beat ] No, tell Dylan he’s not coming over. [ beat ] Yes, I have the fireworks, now could you –

From the kitchen, his mother calls out for him. This is pretty unusual, so Lucas tells Asher he’ll be there in a minute before hanging up and sauntering back towards the kitchen.

INT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - KITCHEN - DAY

Lucas pokes his head in, finding GRACE FRIAR seated at their small dining table. She’s petite, disarmingly beautiful, and looks deceptively too young to have a teenage son. She asks if he has a minute to chat about something. He starts to state that he has plans, but rather than explaining to his mother that he’s off to go set off illegal fireworks with his dumbass friends, he figures he can spare the few seconds to talk.

Lucas settles into the chair across from her, and the closer we are to her the more the cracks in her dainty exterior seem to show. There are healing bruises on her face from the events of 1.09, and once you notice them underneath the makeup, it’s hard to unsee.

She goes on to explain that through one of her friends at work, she was able to get in touch with the dean of admissions at McCullough, a private all-boys boarding school in upstate New York. Given Lucas’s excellent academic record at AAA – behavioral record aside – Grace believes that if he applied, he could totally get a spot in their elite student body for the last two years of high school. She wants to put his application in for the fall, if that’s something he might want.

Lucas, stunned: You mean… you mean like leave triple A?

Grace hurriedly explains that she knows AAA was never Lucas’s top choice as far as schooling. He never had any artistic interests, there were just no… better alternatives. But this school has excellent reviews, top rated academics. It’s in the countryside rather than the city, so maybe the fresh air could do him good. A little space. And all of its alumni go on to have successful careers as doctors, lawyers, entrepreneurs – whatever Lucas decides he wants to do.

Lucas doesn’t know what to think. Never before has there been another option besides AAA, and the mere prospect of it seems impossible to fathom. Not to mention, so much has changed in the past year at the school he always claimed he hated. He doesn’t know how to answer.

Grace claims that he should take the next couple of weeks to consider it, as the application isn’t due until then anyway. It just might be a viable different route, an… escape from everything going on here. A loaded conversation to drop so suddenly…

Angela, pre-lap: How is anybody supposed to make a decision like this?

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - DAY

Angela is hanging out with Eric in his office, both of them relaxing after the students have cleared out for the day. They’re sharing sodas in fancy glasses (i.e., what they’re allowed to consume on school property), and Eric is leaning back with his feet up on his desk as they muse.

Angela laments her current situation, definitely feeling torn between two worlds.

Angela: It’s like, all my life, I had one dream. This gig, this draining, paradoxical, invigorating art of performing, that was it for me. All of this from acing an audition to getting a spot on a tour or production, I mean, that was the whole plan, you know? That would fall into place, and the universe would do the rest.

Eric: I hear you, sister. Amen.

Angela: But here I am, finally steps away from the dream. It’s right in front of me. I can taste it. And… I’m holding back. I’m hesitating. How can I be hesitating now?

As Eric points out, there’s a chance her dreams have changed. She certainly has, as has he, and everyone else they know. Hell, look at how much they’ve all grown in just this school year alone.

Eric: Beginning of this year, Jack and I fought about everything.

Angela: Believe me, I remember.

Eric: You and Shawn couldn’t even look at each other, and the school was at war. Quite literally, given everything that conspired after.

Now, all things considered, they’ve found harmony. They’ve found peace, and they’re on their way to almost quelling the last remaining symbol of bad blood. They opened themselves to change, and it turned out to be exactly what they needed.

Eric: Change happens, and it’s scary. But it can be good. You shouldn’t run from it. In fact, it may behoove you to listen to what it’s trying to tell you.

Angela ruminates on this, taking a long sip of her cola. Much to think about.

INT. BABINEAUX HOME - NIGHT

Zay is eating dinner with OMAR BABINEAUX and DONNA BABINEAUX, attempting to find the right time to tell them about the summer program. As Omar wraps up discussing a new development at work, Zay takes a deep breath and gears up to speak. Donna beats him to it, however, suddenly remembering an important news bulletin they meant to share with him.

His older sister Jada was selected for an exclusive study abroad program this summer. She’ll be studying fashion in Milan and Paris, so they’re planning a family vacation there as well to take advantage of the opportunity. It’s an exciting update, but definitely throws a potential wrench into Zay’s quest for Kossal.

Donna: Isn’t that exciting?

Zay: Oh, yeah. Yeah, that’s… I mean, dope.

Omar: What were you going to say, Zay? Looked like you had something on your mind.

Zay: Just that, uh… my grades have really turned around since fall semester. So the tutoring did actually help. That’s all.

He doesn’t push the issue further, allowing his parents to congratulate him and take back control of the conversation. Might as well be a sign… right?

INT. JACK’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Jack and Shawn are having their traditional dinner. Shawn raises his glass in a toast, cheering on Jack for catching the dumbass who was running the AAAC. Jack takes the praise, but hesitantly. After they both drink, Jack expresses his qualms about how to progress with punishment towards Wyatt.

Shawn shares no such reluctance to be brutal.

Shawn: What do you do when you catch a cold, Jackie?

Jack: Down a pint of Gatorade and hope for the best.

Shawn: [ with an eye roll ] Okay, how about a malignant mole? A tumor? Any sort of cancerous presence?

Jack: Well I’ve been lucky enough not to –

Shawn: You remove it. You cut the thing out so it’s disease can’t spread. It’s that simple.

Jack points out that some might say similar rhetoric about, say… Lucas, to which Shawn scoffs. He claims that they’re completely different situations.

Shawn: Listen, Friar is a mess all his own. I would know. But he isn’t going around using slurs towards other students, or posting increasingly vitriolic hate just to rile people up. There’s a difference.

Jack references the fact that Wyatt claims he’s not the moderator, that there’s another student running it. Shawn blows this off, stating that has to be a lie.

Shawn: [ with his mouth full ] I would know. I used to lie to get out of trouble all the time.

Jack: Once again, you continue to reassure me of your right state of mind to be teaching the youth of tomorrow…

Shawn states that Jack knows what the right decision is, he’s just wallowing in it. And if he won’t do the right thing, then he’ll just take matters into his own hands. Jack knows he’s just shooting the breeze, but he is also like don’t do anything stupid please, I have enough to deal with.

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - NIGHT

That night, it’s just CORY MATTHEWS and Riley there for dinner at the apartment. In the midst of the meal, Cory congratulates her on being selected as representative, and there’s a soft moment between them reflecting on just how far she’s come in a year. He’s so, so proud of her.

She agrees that there is a lot to think about, like what she’s going to wear and who she should bring along. Cory additionally mentions the decision over which song to perform for her audition for the summer program, until Riley expresses that she isn’t planning on auditioning.

Much like Eric, Cory is totally opposed to this notion. He states that she should at least throw her hat in the ring, and it’s even more low stakes for her considering if she doesn’t make it to the district level, she has another plan already in place.

Cory: Other potential conflicts aside, you shouldn’t keep yourself from getting the chance to run the bases by never letting yourself take one swing at bat.

INT. RILEY’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

This sentiment is still lingering with Riley as she gets ready for bed. She hesitates, glancing up at her moodboard to search for inspiration.

It’s drastically different than when it was first made, more intricate and decorated than ever. Lots of little details have been added, including photos of her classmates, playbills from Les Mis, and lots of other little mementos throughout the school year.

She zeroes in on one item in particular – a scrap of notebook paper. It’s the note she and Lucas were passing back in forth in 1.10, during Maya and Farkle’s rendition of “Bop to the Top.” While the majority of it is just a back and forth about how Lucas doesn’t know what the movie is and he thinks Maya and Farkle aren’t that good, the most important statement is the last.

As Riley is defending their performing abilities, he’s followed up with a very bold counterargument: “You’re better.”

It’s evident that is the reason the conversation is hanging up at all. She hangs on this, lightly smiling… wheels are beginning to turn in her head again…

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Charlie shows up to the auditorium early, finding Zay on the stage exactly as he hoped he would. He’s running through what would have been his audition routine, the vaguely familiar orchestral arrangement from A Chorus Line playing on his iPhone speaker. Charlie hangs back and watches for a moment, in awe of Zay’s obvious skill as always.

Charlie: Looks pretty good.

Zay is surprised by his presence, both because he didn’t realize he was there and because he’s suddenly deeming him worth talking to again. He rushes to turn off his speaker, taking a second to catch his breath. Then he forfeits the stage, saying that he’ll get out of his way if he needs to use it. Charlie rushes to stop him, asking if he’ll give him just half a second to talk.

Zay looks wary, but he doesn’t leave. He crosses his arms, waiting for Charlie to say his piece.

Charlie: I’m sorry I’ve been acting so distant. Ghosting you, and stuff. I don’t have an excuse. I’ve just been… it’s been weird.

Zay: Bit of an understatement.

Charlie: I haven’t exactly felt like myself much, lately. [ a beat, then he laughs ] Honestly, it’s more like I don’t even know what “myself” actually is. Kind of wondering if maybe I ever did.

[ It’s really hard not to empathize with him. Zay is clearly softening. ]

Charlie: Anyway, it’s not a good reason to treat you the way I did. I can’t explain why I did what I did, but I’m genuinely sorry. I never meant to hurt your feelings. And regardless of what’s going on with me, I don’t want to lose you. I mean, someone has to be able to keep up with me around here.

Zay can’t help but chuckle, earning a hopeful smile from Charlie. But the deal isn’t closed yet.

Charlie, sincerely: I understand if you can’t forgive me. I just wanted you to know.

There’s a moment of silence. Charlie may as well be holding his breath. Then, Zay sighs.

Zay: I don’t know what your so-called God has you used to, but I wouldn’t call what you did unforgivable. Or maybe I’m just a gracious deity.

Jokes aside, he’s accepting the apology. Charlie is clearly relieved, laughing in spite of himself and nodding. Zay mirrors his smile, before prodding further on what he mentioned earlier.

Zay: What did you mean by that? Not feeling like yourself?

Charlie: I don’t know. It’s like… do you remember during acoustic week, we talked about your lack of friends?

Zay: Well, I wouldn’t phrase it like that, but yes.

Charlie: It’s… I guess it’s kind of like that. What I talked about, that feeling where you feel like you’re outside yourself. Only… way worse. Like now I’m out there, and I don’t even recognize the person I’m looking at. It doesn’t feel like me anymore. Or maybe it never really was.

Zay can tell that Charlie is seriously struggling with this. Charlie goes on to explain that he was scared that things were changing, but now he doesn’t even know if that’s the case anymore. He isn’t sure if things are changing, or if he’s just becoming aware of how things already are. He can’t figure out which is worse.

Vague cryptic statements aside, Zay states that he’s there to help if he thinks he needs it. Charlie thinks on it, before agreeing that just doing something fun to get his mind off everything might be exactly what he needs.

Charlie: And, well, you’ve always been the expert on that front.

Zay: This we know. I’ll see what I can do.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Riley catches Isadora in the hall, asking if she’s seen Lucas. After she suggests checking the usual places, Riley follows up by asking whether or not Isadora is planning on auditioning for the summer program. Her derisive laugh is enough of a response.

Isadora: Are you kidding me? I’m not trying to insert myself into that bloodbath. Farkle, Maya, and Zay can take it, I’m not aiming to scrap in the last two weeks of school.

A valid analysis of the situation. Even still, Riley makes her focus on her as she states that she truly believes Isadora is good enough to earn herself a spot on her own merit. Then she flutters off, Isadora unable to hold back the ghost of a smile at the touching sentiment.

INT. AAA - PRACTICE ROOM - DAY

Maya and Farkle are in the same practice room where they met for tutoring in 1.03, running through some scales together with the latter on piano. They’re interrupted when KATY HART shows up, nervously poking her head in and clearly not sure if she’s in the right place. Maya eagerly leaps forward to greet her, hugging her and guiding her into the space.

Farkle is surprised, Maya quickly catching them both up to speed. She explains that her mother had never seen the inside of the school before, so she was able to work something out with Jack so that she could come by for lunch and stick around to see her audition. Katy expresses awe over how state-of-the-art the facilities are, Maya walking her through everything in their current room. Farkle watches them, obviously touched by their tight-knit relationship.

As Maya goes into further detail about what their practicing for and the summer program, Katy grows anxious again. She’s uncertain about the financial aspect of it. Farkle jumps in, helpfully stating that the summer program is all-expenses paid. That’s partially why their audition process is so thorough – they want to make sure only the most deserving and talented students are mixing and mingling at this shindig.

Good news, for the Harts at least. Katy brightens again, eagerly requesting to hear a little bit of what they’ve been working on. Maya claims that she’ll get to see the full audition in just a bit, but she pleads for a sneak preview. Farkle raises his eyebrows, wiggling his fingers over the keys to show he’s ready.

Maya relents, gesturing her mother towards the chairs to settle in and listen. Then she exchanges a look with Farkle, nodding to count each other in. She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath. Then, as Farkle hits the first chord…

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Listen” as performed by Glee Cast || Performed by Maya Hart

Maya kicks off this brassy display of her vocal talent, true evidence to how hard she’s worked all year. “The Wizard and I” was impressive, but this is a whole new level of ambition. It’s raw with emotion, even more so given the fact that her mother is there to witness. She smiles at her as she sings, obviously one of her greatest sources of inspiration.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

As the performance continues, it shifts to Maya center stage performing for Angela, Shawn, Jack, and Eric. A large crop of her classmates are there to cheer her on as well – Farkle, Zay, Charlie, Riley, Isadora, Darby, Sarah, etc. How nice it is, seeing the divas show up to support one another rather than tear each other down…

As she finishes, her classmates burst into resounding applause. Angela, grinning, thanks her. Katy wipes a couple of tears. Maya can’t stop smiling, nodding gratefully with the spotlight shining all around her.

EXT. AAA - LUNCH COURTYARD - DAY

Lucas and Isadora are at lunch, the latter rattling off what she thinks her summer plans are going to be with this short film idea that came to her during first period. She’s already got storyboards going in a notebook.

Lucas isn’t listening. He’s distracted, watching the other goobs in his techie crew throw food at each other and crack up and live their generally silly existences. Isadora realizes he’s a million miles away and snaps him out of it, asking him if he heard a word she said.

Lucas: Please. Of course I did.

Isadora: Right. So what was I thinking was going to be the climactic plot twist that makes the entire short and dare I say rivals Alfred Hitchcock?

Lucas: You know I don’t understand that reference.

Isadora, bluntly: You really should. Well?

Lucas: … okay. Okay! I wasn’t listening. You caught me, congratulations. You’re Sherlock of the month.

Isadora makes an offhand comment about how she doesn’t see why she bothers to open her mouth, but Lucas is already zoning out again. It’s clear that the decision of McCullough is all he can think about, so he ventures the topic – albeit vaguely – with his most trusted source.

Lucas: Can I ask you a question?

Isadora: Was that not just a question?

Lucas, deadpan: You’re fucking hilarious, seriously.

Isadora: [ with a smirk ] I know. Anyway, go on.

Lucas finds a way of twisting the decision to leave into a thinly veiled alternative scenario, almost like… a scientific hypothetical. Something she would inherently understand.

Isadora: You realize that most often supposed “hypotheticals” are in fact very real situations that one is simply posing as a hypothetical –

He waves her off, going with the ruse anyway. He lays it all down before asking for her advice as to how she would proceed to make the most effective choice. She plainly states that she would make a list of pros and cons to each outcome. From there, it’s far simpler to deduce the best method moving forward.

Lucas absorbs this, nodding along and thanking her. Then she continues on with her film sketch, but he’s already checked out again. Already mentally crafting his list…

INT. AAA - GIRLS DRESSING ROOM - DAY

Sarah and Darby are in the dressing room with Chai, hanging out before class resumes. As Darby touches up her makeup, the three of them discuss whether or not they’re auditioning. Sarah complains it’s not really worth trying either way, and Chai concurs. But she blithely states she wasn’t planning on auditioning anyway. In fact, she won’t be returning next year, either.

Darby: [ whipping around and smearing mascara on her cheek ] Oh my God, WHY?

Chai: Relax, Darbs. It’s not goodbye forever. I was able to work out a study abroad sort of situation with Principal Hunter given that I’ll be spending the year in London.

Sarah: London? Where the hell did that come from?

Chai: Well, papa’s still attempting to win over me and mom after getting caught with his pants down with the secretary in our parlor –

Darby, sadly: It’s always the parlor… I’m so glad we don’t have one.

Chai: So he’s paying for me to spend the year across the pond. And it’s like what, am I gonna say no? I can hate his guts and spend his money, thank you very much. I’ll be studying the dramatic arts in the birthplace of Shakespeare, Andrew Lloyd Webber, wandering the West End…

Certainly a not-too-shabby alternative to AAA for a year, that’s for sure. Their conversation is interrupted as Riley enters to drop her things, Darby cheerfully posing the same question to her. Despite her former hesitation, Riley admits that she’s been considering it more and more. Sarah scoffs, asking her if she thinks she stands a chance against the divas. Riley shrugs and states that even if she doesn’t, that’s not a good enough reason to sit it out entirely.

Chai applauds her confidence, but manages to underhandedly point out that it will give her yet another opportunity to publicly fumble like she did all the time at the start of the year. Sarah laughs along and Darby can’t help but giggle, although her expression is more apologetic.

Riley takes the hit, wishing all of them well with their own endeavors and keeping her chin up before heading out to the auditorium. Chai watches her go, but the expression on her face isn’t resentment. In some ways, it seems closer to envy.

Darby: Hm. Maybe I’ll audition, too.

Sarah: Yeah, uh-huh. I’ll believe it when I see it.

INT. AAA - TEACHER’S LOUNGE - DAY

Jack manages to catch Angela in the teacher’s lounge, brewing a thermos of coffee before she’s due back in the auditorium. He requests a moment to chat with her if she can spare it, which she happily does. The two of them settle in at a round table.

Jack poses the Wyatt problem, giving as much context as possible before asking Angela what she would do in his shoes. He notes the perspective he’s already gotten from Shawn. Angela grants that she isn’t surprised at all that he had that response, but is reluctant to provide her own.

Angela: I don’t know if you want to ask me. I can hardly make my own choices.

Jack: I just want to know your thoughts. Honestly.

Angela hesitates. She explains that she knows what Wyatt did was irrevocably wrong, from the despicable words to Isadora all the way through to the involvement with the confessions page and his targeted derision towards Lucas. It’s bullying in all its varied forms, and it shouldn’t be tolerated. Even still… she expresses hesitation at ousting him so harshly and hastily.

When Jack prods further, Angela points out that Wyatt is still one of her students. He’s making dozens of poor choices, she can concede that, and he deserves to be punished. But she’s also seen him in his brighter moments, instances of participation and camaraderie and learning. That exists in him just as much as the nastiness. As Jack has said himself, it’s never simply black and white, especially with adolescents who have so much growing to do.

For Angela, it just seems a little cruel to kick him out with so little time left in the school year. But she’s a softie, she claims, so what does she know? Maybe that’s not the best advice. Especially if he intends to leave an impression to deter others from exhibiting the same behavior. Jack thanks her regardless, insisting that her feedback was helpful.

Jack, softly: If you do decide to leave us this year as well, you will be sorely missed. I can promise you that.

Ouchie. Angela nods, suddenly a little more somber than before as Jack leaves her to it.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

Charlie is out with Zay, the two of them walking side by side as they make their way through the streets while keeping up a conversation. Zay refuses to tell him where they’re headed. Charlie is nervous, but also clearly excited. Invigorated with that infectious energy he gets from being around Zay Babineaux.

Zay declares they’ve made it, turning the corner. Curious, Charlie jogs to keep up.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DANCE LOT - DAY

Zay has dragged them to a back alley park, the empty lot transforming into a break dance spot in the after school hours. A group of a couple dozen or so students is assembled, both older and younger than them. It’s sort of an impromptu crew, coming here after school to jam and challenge each other and just groove together. Most of them are also quite similar to Zay in displaying confidence in their unique sense of style – and come off pretty distinctly queer.

Charlie is more than intimated. He states he can’t do this before whipping around and trying to leave, but Zay grabs his shoulders and pulls him back. He braces him, going on to explain that as long as they’ve been friends – hell, even just classmates – Charlie has always seemed most centered when he’s dancing. These people, they’re the exact same, in fact they’re the experts at using it for self-expression. Zay is positive Charlie has never experienced dancing with freedom quite like this.

There’s a moment where it seems like maybe he’s being convinced… but no. He’s still scared. He tries to run again but is thwarted when one of the older, more respected members of the crew greets Zay and calls them over. Nowhere to hide, Charlie sheepishly follows Zay as he bounces over to greet his acquaintance.

Zay eagerly introduces Charlie, nudging him into standing straighter and not shying away from the moment. The assembled dancers sort of swarm and welcome him warmly, asking him what kind of dancing he’s into and if he thinks he can keep up. After a little bit of banter, let the dancing jam session begin!

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Step Up” as performed by Samantha Jade || Instrumental

Yes, it’s the title track from Step Up. Yes, this entire sequence sort of feels like it’s ripped straight out of a Step Up movie. But that’s all part of the fun, and watching the teenagers all groove together and encourage each other is engaging to watch. The dancing is fresh, enthusiastic, clearly important to every single one of the kids assembled there.

Charlie is no exception. It takes a little while him to loosen up, the other dancers showing him new moves or helping him get comfortable. But true to Zay’s word, once he relaxes it’s like he transforms – he’s a completely different person. In his element, grounded, alive.

When the bridge hits (“And when the symphony plays, I feel my feet / Lifting from underneath”), focus zeroes in on just Zay and Charlie. In an instant they’re pulled together, and suddenly they’re dancing more with one another than we’ve seen thus far. Sure, they’ve done duets before, but never have they experimented with a dance that really includes the other.

But it’s good. Really good. And it seems pretty natural for the both of them to work out. As the bridge descends back into the chorus, they blend back with the rest of the crew and end out the jam session. Afterwards, the crew applauds, pulling Charlie into the group and giving him pats on the back. A new source of family, maybe…

His smile is impressively bright. Zay mirrors it. It’s impossible not to.

INT. AAA - SHAWN’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Angela and Shawn are at his apartment, having just finished up watching a movie. Well, sort of watching a movie, sort of on the road to Netflix and chilling.

After breaking a kiss, Angela tentatively broaches the topic of what will happen for the two of them if she decides to go on tour. Shawn bristles a bit, claiming that she’s decided then. She disputes this, stating that she’s far from having decided anything in an attempt to keep the situation from imploding. But Shawn has already pulled away, getting to his feet and busying himself by turning off the TV and hitting the lights.

Angela: Shawn, would you listen to me? I haven’t made a choice. I’m just… I’m trying to figure out my plan.

Shawn: You can’t make plans until after you’ve made the decision! [ off her expression ] You’re avoiding it because you don’t want to choose. You want there to be an easy out, but there’s not. You have to decide.

After a little more back and forth, Shawn points out that this is starting to feel eerily like the conversations they had right before the last time things ended badly between them. Angela frowns, stating that it’s different this time. They’re different.

But Shawn has already been emotionally spooked. He asks if he can be alone for a bit, retreating to the bedroom and leaving her alone to stew in it. Angela groans, flopping back on the couch and covering her face.

Weird, how not making a decision can almost make things worse…

INT. CHUBBIE’S DINER - NIGHT

Charlie and Zay are getting a late dinner at Chubbie’s, a credit in part to Charlie’s growth considering plenty of people can see them there who know them. But they’re friends, after all, so what does he have to hide? Just dancing pals.

He thanks Zay for taking him to the lot, stating that while he’s not entirely upright again, he does feel better. Zay is happy to have helped. When the two of them reach for the plate of fries at the same time, there’s a moment where their hands brush together and that tension returns between them again. Zay glances at Charlie, who is staring at their hands.

Then, Charlie proceeds for the fry as normal. Not commenting on the moment, but not immediately shying away from it either.

As he pops the fry into his mouth, he asks Zay what his plan for the summer program is. The number he was working on in the auditorium seemed pretty legit. Zay shrugs it off, claiming he’s not doing the audition. Charlie nearly chokes on his fries.

Zay: Jesus, man. [ sliding his water across the table in case he needs it ] If you survived the scary dancing pit, don’t let a stray potato take you out.

Charlie: What do you mean you’re not auditioning?

Zay: It’s no biggie. My family has this whole summer plan already, and I don’t want to mess with it. Not to mention the Farkle and Maya of it all, who knows what they might do if someone presents even a shred of competition –

Charlie, incredulously: I can’t believe I’m hearing this right now. You need to audition. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and you’re too good to pass it up.

Zay: Um, could say the same to you.

Charlie: Yeah, thanks, but I’ve got enough going on internally without adding a stressful audition into the mix. Think you can admit to that.

Zay: Yes, you certainly are a bit of a basketcase at the moment…

Case in point, Zay needs to do this. Charlie won’t hear anything else, and he’s sure his family will understand. He at least needs to try. Zay contemplates this – the notion of actually giving it a shot as well as Charlie getting fired up on his behalf – before eating another fry.

INT. AAA - BOYS DRESSING ROOM - DAY

Farkle is gearing up for his audition, doing vocal warm-ups and mouth stretches in the mirror. Yogi and Dave are also present, shooting the breeze and poking fun at Farkle’s pre-show rituals. Dave shares that he heard Riley might be auditioning too, which freaks out Farkle. He wasn’t expecting more than the three of them to audition, and suddenly the calm of this whole situation feels precarious.

Maya pokes her head in, checking for Farkle and telling him they’re ready. Yogi and Dave tell him to break a leg, but he ignores them as he marches out of the dressing room.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Farkle and Maya make their way into the wings, the spotlight gleaming on stage and waiting for him. He stands apprehensively in the shadow of the curtains, suddenly prickling with stage fright he’s never really experienced before.

Maya gives him a bracing pat on the shoulder, pulling him out of his own head. She jostles him a bit, giving him a smirk and assuring him that he’s got this.

Wow, how nice it is to have friends instead of adversaries. Farkle nods, exhaling through his lips and regaining his performance mojo.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Not the Boy Next Door” as performed by Glee Cast || Performed by Farkle Minkus

The instrumental precedes him, setting us up for a jaunty, energetic solo as Farkle marches his way onto the stage. It’s an enthusiastic and skillful performance, delivering all of the star power and talent that he’s been serving since “Man About Town” but leaner, looser, more an expression of heart rather than a strangled declaration of perfectionism.

More than anything, it’s clear he’s having fun, which can’t be said for every performance he’s given over the course of the year. He totally loses himself in the number, spurred on by the encouraging cheers from his classmates who came out to see him – notably Maya and Riley, amongst scattered other performers.

He’s out of breath when he belts out the final note, but boy, did he make an impression. Angela thanks him proudly, the rest of the judges smiling as well.

INT. AAA - TECHNICIAN’S BOOTH - DAY

Lucas is alone in the booth, in his usual chair. He’s got his pros and cons list in a small notebook, tapping his pen against it as he contemplates it. Presently, there’s a couple more cons than pros.

He raises his gaze to look at the booth around him. Much like the moment that gripped Angela in the black box, Lucas becomes acutely aware of the fact that he may never be back in this space after the school year is done. It’s oddly surreal. His pen starts tapping faster out of instinct.

He’s broken out of his fugue when Riley pops in, knocking lightly before stepping inside.

Riley: I hope I’m not intruding.

Lucas: No, uh, no. It’s fine. You’re fine. What’s up?

Riley can tell he’s not quite himself, but she chooses to brush past it for now. She’s a bit nervous herself, given what she’s there to talk to him about. After a bit of beating around the bush – a pointed eyebrow raises from Lucas to make it evident he knows she’s beating around the bush – Riley works up the courage to ask him to be her date to the Jacobs gala.

Before he can respond, she launches into a frantic ramble explaining exactly what it is and what he’d be expected to do. Lucas does his best to absorb her words at warp speed, obviously stunned she considered to ask him at all.

Riley: [ following her breathless explanation ] Essentially, it’s just a fanciful folly for the arts, but apparently I’m good enough to represent. And I’m supposed to bring a plus one, and I’ve been giving it a lot of thought, and I just keep… I figured it might be nice to have a technician there as well. I couldn’t think of another person better suited for the job.

Lucas: … wow.

Lucas, still slow from the shock, admits that he’s flattered. And he concurs that her reasoning makes sense, bringing a technician along and all that. Riley nods along, chewing her lip and twisting her fingers together.

Lucas: But uh… no.

Riley: No. [ blinking ] No?

Ouch. Lucas presses his lips together, managing a shake of his head. Suddenly, the booth feels a million times more claustrophobic. As Riley tries to digest this turn of events, Lucas scrambles to provide an explanation of his own.

Lucas: Again, I really appreciate you considering me. But it seems like a pretty important thing for the school, or whatever, and a whole glamorous to-do. I just think that there’s a lot riding on you, here, and you should present yourself accordingly. Pick someone more… fitting to the role.

Riley: [ timidly ] What if I think you fit the role?

Well, hard to argue with that. Yet somehow, Lucas finds a way, still declining the invitation although with less certainty the second time around.

Riley is stung, stumbling out a few assurances of “cool” and “sure.” Lucas is apologetic, seemingly genuinely so, but at present Riley just needs to escape. She makes an excuse and darts out of there, Lucas watching her go. There’s a moment where it looks like he might go after her, but it passes without action.

Instead, Lucas sighs and pulls his notebook back onto his lap. He stares at his lists, grabbing his pen and adding Riley to the bottom of it. It’s in the middle of the page, not clear at all which column she falls under.

INT. BABINEAUX HOME - NIGHT

As Donna prepares for dinner and Omar chats with her from the table with his work, Zay barrels into the room and declares that he has something to tell them. He doesn’t give them the chance to react as he claims he wants to audition for the Kossal summer program, rattling off what it is and why he wants to do it. He states that he wants to go on the summer trip and this may not even work out, but the chance feels too important to ignore and really important to him.

When he finishes, he’s out of breath. He stares at his parents, wide-eyed, waiting for their reaction. Unsurprisingly they are more than supportive, telling him to go for it and show everyone at that school why he is the best they’ve got. The rest, they’ll figure out later. Zay exhales in relief and hugs his mom, earning a laugh from her.

INT. BABINEAUX HOME - ZAY’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Zay retreats to his bedroom, obviously in far better spirits than earlier in the week. He crafts a message to Charlie, before deciding that’s not enough. He pulls up his contact, dialing his number instead.

INT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Charlie sees Zay light up his phone, grabbing it and escaping out to his balcony. He answers on the fourth ring, not keeping him hanging.

Zay tells him what his parents said, and that he’s going to audition. Charlie congratulates him, claiming that he knew it would all work out.

Zay: How is it when I always think I’ve got the one-up on you, you repay the favor before I even realize it?

Charlie, charmed: Well, I have to be the expert at something in this relationship.

Zay hangs on his acknowledgement of their friendship as a “relationship,” before pushing past it. He repeats the sentiment that his parents said about proving that he is the best AAA has, and Charlie seconds it without hesitation.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “The Music and the Mirror” as performed by A Chorus Line Original Cast || Performed by Zay Babineaux

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Starting from the opening piano tinkles, focus is solely with Zay on the stage. As much an honorary diva as he is, he’s more so a team player than anything else, so this ownership of center stage feels long overdue.

And boy, is it worth the wait. Zay absolutely destroys the classic triple-threat number, singing the hell out of it and then proceeding to dance the hell out of it. It’s four minutes dedicated to giving the star our undisputed attention, and it feels more earned than words can describe.

As the dance unfolds in the second half, focus cuts to some of the friends who have come to see him audition. Nearly the entire class is there considering how popular he is, all in awe of his dancing ability as they should be. Charlie looks prouder than ever. Riley is basically jumping out of her seat from excitement. That’s her first friend!

The judges are deeply impressed, and seemingly grateful at their current three auditionees there’s not actually a decision to make. Farkle seems less relieved, starting to get a little bit antsy as they applaud Zay and he gives a confident bow.

INT. LAW OFFICE - DAY

Riley visits her mother at work, distinctly out of place in the high intensity and strait-laced setting of the law office with her thrift store tee and flare jeans and propensity for knocking things over. It’s a relief when TOPANGA LAWRENCE emerges from her office and happily gestures her in, freeing her from the scrutinizing gaze of her colleagues at the front.

INT. TOPANGA’S OFFICE - DAY

Topanga and Riley catch up as they settle in, Riley primly sitting in the large leather chair opposite her mother’s desk. When prompted on how school is going, Riley offhandedly explains all of the stuff going on at school with things winding down to summer. When Topanga gets wind of the summer program, she comments what a wonderful opportunity that sounds like and questions whether Riley is going to audition.

Riley admits that she was thinking about it, but has sort of decided she’s not going to. Topanga totally turns the usual argument on its head, wondering why Riley would ever hesitate when she’s so gifted but more so curious as to why she’d neglect such a great opportunity when they’re certainly forking over a chunk of change for her to attend the school in the first place. A fair point, but not the most empathetic approach.

It’s encouragement in its most aggravating form. Rather than motivating Riley it almost completely turns her off to the whole thing. Although she states she’ll continue to consider it, her expression makes that statement difficult to buy. Tough day for Miss Matthews…

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Class is assembled before first bell, discussing all the auditionees so far and how nothing has been much of a surprise. Wyatt is cleverly keeping his mouth shut giving he’s on probation, but somehow his classmates manage to pull some commentary out of him.

When he says something harsh towards Zay’s performance Charlie starts to refute but Lucas beats him to it, firing back with a dig at Wyatt that makes most of the assorted group chuckle but also wince. Pissed at being ridiculed by him once again, Wyatt serves up a harsh reality check of his own.

Wyatt: At least we know if there was a competition for which one of them to get rid of, there’d be a unanimous decision across the board.

The message is clear enough. Isadora jumps in and tells Wyatt to fuck off, but Lucas is less reactive. In fact, he’s totally blithe when he says something offhand in response, alluding to the fact that Wyatt might very well get his wish.

He gets up, retreating to the booth and leaving an uncomfortable and uncertain quiet in his place. The situation feels serious, but none of them have any clue why…

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

Angela is still grappling with her own indecision, alone in her classroom. Only this time, Shawn isn’t there with coffee and a warm gesture to rescue her.

She checks her phone, revealing a couple of messages sent to him that have gone unanswered. Frustrated, running out of time, and as uncertain as ever, Angela shuts off her phone and jumps to her feet. Unable to sit still any longer.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Should I Stay Or Should I Go?” as performed by Jools Holland & Kylie Minogue || Performed by Angela Moore

Launching into this anthem for indecision, Angela dances around her classroom as she lets out her aggravation. It’s refreshing to get another track with our favorite performance coach showing off why she’s been offered a touring position in the first place. The vocals are top notch, but the emotion behind them is what really sells the rendition.

As she continues to sing, she makes her way out into the halls…

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

In the following montage, Angela’s singing underscores both she and Lucas going through their day as they continue to balance their decisions. Whereas Angela is more about chewing up the scenery and expressing reluctance to leave, Lucas is observing the things about the school he enjoys (his fellow technicians, the booth, the occasional moments where the performers are entertaining) along with all the things he hates (the drama, the stupidity, the incessant singing). With every beat, he makes a little note in his list when no one is paying attention.

Angela finishes off the montage at center stage, dipping her head back and absorbing the spotlight. Exasperated, but evidently no more at home than when she’s performing. It does truly feel like an impossible decision.

Then, she closes up for the night, clicking off all the lights and shrouding the place in darkness.

EXT. OUTDOOR HIDEOUT - DAY

The montage concludes for Lucas somewhere just out of the city, more wilderness than we’ve seen yet. He’s seated on the hood of Dylan’s jeep which is parked in the clearing just beyond the trees, sort of a natural hideaway that the three of frequent somewhat often. Asher and Dylan focus on setting up something further into the space, leaving Lucas alone.

He’s got his list again, distracted by it rather than the task at hand. Asher jogs over with Dylan on his heels, the two of them questioning why he’s been out of it this week and why he’s waiting up. Dylan holds up a bottle rocket impatiently.

Dylan: Come on. We know you like to have first light.

Idiotic antics aside, Asher observes Lucas for a moment before wondering if he knows that if something major were going on, he could talk to them about it.

Asher: Whatever’s going on, you know you could talk to us about it, right? [ off Dylan’s nod of agreement ] I mean, no guarantee that we’d have good advice –

Dylan: [ with a snort ] Definitely not.

Asher: But we’d listen. We got your back. You know?

Lucas examines the two of them – his truest lieutenants – and just takes them in for a long moment. It’s difficult to imagine what his day-to-day would be like without them in it.

He assures them he’s aware, then tells them not to worry about it. He directs them to go finish setting up the rocket, to which Dylan cheers and sprints back over. After they’ve gone far enough away, Lucas takes a moment to add their names on the pros side of the list as a totally separate entity from the rest of the techies.

With that, he officially comes out to an even tally – no clear decision. All that remains in flux is Riley, now having been underlined and with a couple of question marks. This indecision’s killing me…

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - DAY

Jack stops by Eric’s office, surprising him given they rarely have cordial friendly chats with one another. He attempts to play it casual at first, commenting on how lovely the auditions have been so far. Since only three have auditioned, guess their job is pretty simple, huh?

Eric: Yeah, for sure. And why are you here again?

Jack: What? I can’t come by to have a chat with my best counselor?

Eric: I’m your only counselor.

Jack: And?

Eric gives him a look, breaking his facade. Jack relents, easing further into the room to settle into the chair opposite his desk. He gets into his qualm with Wyatt once again, especially now that Shawn and Angela have given him opposing advice.

He still feels stuck. He wants to make the best choice as an administrator, but he also knows that teenagers are stupid. They’re ignorant. They make mistakes. He’s seen that shift firsthand all year long, in just about every single one of their students. But he doesn’t want this behavior to continue either…

Eric empathizes, giving Jack what he’s been wanting to hear this entire time which is simply that there isn’t a right or easy decision. He just has to go with his gut. Considering he’s an excellent educator, Eric has little doubt that he will make the best one.

Jack appreciates the sentiment, but still isn’t convinced. He asks Eric what he would do in his position, seeking counsel from him seeing as that’s presumably his job title and all that.

After a beat of contemplation, Eric states that he thinks he would ask Wyatt to leave. Not because he’s irredeemable, but because they have to think about what is best for the collective. Regardless of how they feel about individual students, what always matters most is how all of them can best proceed. Isn’t that true?

Jack takes this to heart, genuinely grateful for the help. Eric accepts his gratitude, offering him an encouraging smile.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Lucas is seated on the edge of the stage, one leg dangling off the side as he painstakingly wraps microphone cables. Riley makes her way in from the audience entrance, hoping to find Isadora and stumbling into him instead. Their staging mirrors their face off at the end of 1.03, now with Riley standing in the aisles and looking up at him on the stage.

They’re a bit awkward with one another as she asks whether he’s seen Isadora, given how recent his rejection of her was. He claims he doesn’t know, curiously wondering why she’s trying to find her. Riley expresses that she wanted to ask her about the audition, letting it slip that she has almost effectively decided she’s not going to do it.

Lucas is shocked, coming off more miffed than he intends to. He questions if she’s serious, not believing there’s a world in which she’s not auditioning. Riley stammers into an explanation, Lucas remaining unimpressed as she lists all the factors that have stacked against her in the past week. He claims none of that matters.

Lucas: This is just you stepping back into the shadows because suddenly overwhelming factors have come into play. You’re really just going to go back to how things were? As if you’ve learned nothing?

Riley: [ scoffing ] Are you really about to give me this lecture right now?

[ Lucas rolls his eyes, diverting his attention back to his cables. But Riley isn’t finished, storming closer to the stage. ]

Riley: So what, you just want me to rock the boat for the sake of rocking the boat? You want me to just do whatever my mother says I should?

Lucas: This isn’t about your mom. And this isn’t about rebellion either. This is about you, and the fact that you are too damn talented to be stepping out of the spotlight just because other people want it. Just because someone else wants what you have doesn’t mean you have to give it up.

Choice words, and not a bad point. Riley absorbs this, crossing her arms and looking at her feet. Lucas gazes at her for a long moment, twisting the microphone cable in his fingers.

Lucas, calmer: Earlier this year, someone told me that if something is important to you then you go out and do it. No matter what anyone else tells you to do or how to be. You stand up for yourself.

Lucas gets to his feet, placing the microphone in the box with the rest and snapping the lid shut. He hops off the lip of the stage, passing her to head back towards the technician’s booth. But he hesitates once he’s passed her.

Lucas: Are you really going to go back to hiding in the chorus line?

He doesn’t give her the chance to respond, marching towards the back of the auditorium. Riley looks over her shoulder and watches him go, obviously torn up all over again. For what it’s worth, what she wants suddenly seems less muddled than before…

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Thus, march onward Riley does. She approaches the audition list, hesitating before officially adding a fourth name to the roster. All the sudden, there’s actual stakes to this game. As she writes her name, a voiceover of her introducing herself before her audition pre-laps…

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Riley is alone center stage, spotlight shining on her. She’s squinting to attempt and see Eric, Angela, any of them – but it’s like they’re not there at all. Basically the entire class has showed up in the seats, wanting to see how a non-diva contender plans to throw down with such a bold move against the status quo.

Angela grants Riley permission to begin whenever she’s ready. Her fingers are shaking as she holds the microphone stand. She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath and grounding herself.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “She Used to Be Mine” as performed by Sara Bareilles || Performed by Riley Matthews

If there’s a pivotal example of how much a performer can blossom in the span of a year, then this performance would be it. Although she starts out timid, Riley delivers an impassioned and powerful rendition of the Broadway belter, obviously channeling all of her emotion and passion into it like never before. It’s stunning, breathtaking, the kind of game-changer that throws this entire competition into a toss-up.

It’s a testament to how far she’s come that nearly the entire class seems impressed. They’re supportive too, smiling and nodding as she decimates the number. Isadora is smug on her behalf, glancing to the other techies proudly. Even Farkle is playing nice, although he’s starting to get a little twitchy…

INT. AAA - TECHNICIAN’S BOOTH - DAY

As she rounds out the number, focus draws to Lucas in the booth. He’s totally captivated, although not that surprised – he’s the one who told her she had it in her, after all.

Still, there’s a contemplative edge to his expression. Trying to figure her out, wondering if he could actually walk away from her…

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Inspired by Riley’s bold move, suddenly the audition list is swimming in the names of other hopeful auditionees. Farkle is staring at it, trying extremely hard to keep his cool and not freak out over the increasing loss of control.

Maya joins him, poking her chin over his shoulder and eyeing it as well before stating that he can’t keep watching it like this. Yet the two of them stare transfixed for a second longer, Maya physically having to turn them both away from it to break the trance.

She gives a pep talk, stating that they both gave kickass performances and all there is left to do is let the deliberation speak for itself. When Farkle doesn’t seem convinced, she tells him she’s getting him away from it. They’re getting out of there – they’re playing hooky. Now there’s a way to get the attention of a goody-two-shoes academic.

Farkle: Um? I’ve never missed a day of class in my sixteen years.

Maya: Aw, so honored to be your first time! Let’s go.

She grabs his hand, yanking him down the hall.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

Launching into their day of freedom, Maya and Farkle are meandering their way about town. They’re window shopping in the fashion district, sipping fancy coffee drinks and trying to find their zen – Farkle’s is pointedly marked decaf.

As they chat, they somehow gets on the subject of the local theater scene and the hangouts for up and coming performers. Farkle claims that his parents have membership at this elite club lounge where a lot of Broadway performers congregate and rehearse.

Maya: What’s it called?

Farkle: Emerald City, I think.

Maya: [ stopping cold ] WHAT?

Farkle: I know, feels a little on the nose, but –

Maya grabs him by the shirt collar, yanking him towards her and causing him to drop his drink. She’s got a frenzied gleam in her eyes.

Farkle: I was drinking that!

Maya: You have access to the Emerald City lounge? Where the future stars of Broadway mix and mingle? Where it’s rumored Carly Rae Jepsen snuck her way in and was able to get her stint as Cinderella? How have you never told me this?

Farkle: Ow, unclaw me, please! [ as she does so ] I don’t know, it never came up. I’ve always wanted to go, but I didn’t want to go alone. And to be fair, we weren’t exactly chummy for me to be sharing these things.

Maya: I know, I’m surprised you weren’t just bragging incessantly about it. And listen, had you mentioned this sooner? We would’ve been friends ages ago.

Farkle gives her a look, Maya nudging him playfully before insisting they have to go. If the only reason he’s never gone is because he didn’t want to go stag, well, that problem is now solved.

She starts to drag him down the street but he gets her to slow down, first thanking her for getting him out of that school and out of his own head. He truly needed it, and he’s grateful for it – and her. Maya grins, shrugging it off like it’s nothing.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “One Short Day” as performed by Wicked Original Broadway Cast || Performed by Maya Hart & Farkle Minkus

As the jaunty and uplifting descent into glamourous kicks off, Maya and Farkle dance their way through the streets together as only two divas in paradise can. It’s endearing and comfortable, such a far cry from “What Is This Feeling?” in 1.03. It also doesn’t paint NYC in such a bad light either. In fact, it’s pretty damn beautiful.

On the beat where Glinda tells Elphaba they’re going to be late for “Wiz-a-mania,” Farkle gets caught up checking his phone. People are posting on their own accounts about how auditions are going, and the competition seems to be getting thicker and thicker. But Maya pulls him out of it, yanking him down the stairwell to the hidden depths of Emerald City.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

As Farkle and Maya enter the depths of the working performers, a montage ensues of the rest of the sophomore class performing their auditions.

INT. EMERALD CITY LOUNGE - DAY

An eclectic, shimmering testament to Broadway and those struggling to work in it, Emerald City is somewhere between a bar lounge and a dressing room. Maya and Farkle watch in awe as working actors and dancers buzz around them, before inevitably pulling them into the dance. Because it’s television, and musical television, and we can do what we want.

After the very necessary and super cute kick line, Maya and Farkle come back together to share their moment on the lyrics “and then just like now we can say…” Farkle states that they’re “two good friends,” before Maya takes his hand and holds their joined fingers up between them. “Two best friends.”

Then the professionals pull them back into the number, rounding out the number with a flourish. What a way to spend a school day!

INT. AAA - TECHNICIAN’S BOOTH - NIGHT

Lucas is back in the booth, although not in his usual chair. A little further into the booth, a panel has popped out of the wall and leaned against the electrical cabinet. And it’s the basic crawl space of an alcove that is revealed behind it where Lucas has built his hideaway, the place he sleeps when he’s avoiding going home. It’s not much, but it’s the coziest space he’s ever known.

This is where he is now, cooped up and regarding his full list. Cons include the horrible competitive environment, all the performers, the constant singing, etc. The pros, however, are strong and difficult to ignore – Isadora at the top and underlined, the techies, Mister Shawn, Principal Hunter (someone has to keep his life interesting), Dylan and Asher…

And yet, the tally comes to an even draw. All save for Riley at the bottom, somehow having become the deciding factor.

The booth door opening scares Lucas out of his melancholy. He scrambles to get up and start frantically attempt to hide everything away, when Isadora appears around the other side of the electrical cabinet. She tells him to relax, he doesn’t have to pack away his whole set-up. Also, she brought dinner. Lucas tries to act indifferent about her discovering his shelter, but she truly isn’t all that impressed.

Isadora: You really thought I didn’t know about all that? It’s not hard to deduce. You hate being at home. You’re always in here, and you’re always here first thing in the morning, which I know isn’t plausible otherwise because you’re not a morning person.

Lucas: Well, when you put it that way. [ a beat, softer ] Forget you’re a genius, sometimes.

Isadora: [ with a shrug ] You’re my best friend. It’s not that hard to figure you out.

He sits back down in his alcove, Isadora settling down across from him. She asks how his “hypothetical” is going. He defensively wonders if she’s figured that all out too, which she admits she has not. But she claims that if it were truly important, she knows he would tell her.

In this case, far from the truth. There’s a reason he’s avoided telling her what’s going on outright – he can’t imagine how she would take the news that he may be leaving for good. He explains that he’s hit a dead end and doesn’t know how to move forward. He’s done the pros and cons like she said, but he’s torn on this last factor that might tip the scales in either direction.

Isadora: First things first, is it an important factor? If it’s extraneous, then you shouldn’t even bother with it.

Lucas: … yes. Yeah, it is. How do I determine where it falls?

Isadora: Well, if this were an actual scientific theory, your next step would be to draft an experiment. Decide what you want your hypothesis to be – which outcome you want it to be, unless we’re talking null hypothesis – and then find a way to test whether or not it’s true. That’s what any good scientist would do. Basic scientific method.

Lucas takes this in, already puzzling over how to accomplish such a thing. Isadora distracts him by tossing food at him, commanding him to eat. He relents, digging in with her.

INT. ANGELA’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Angela is typing out an email to the touring company, effectively making her decision. From the looks of it, it seems as though she’s going to decline the offer. She’s interrupted when there’s a knock at her door.

Shawn is on the other side, holding a bouquet of flowers and ansty with earnest. Angela starts to question what he’s doing but he cuts her off, stepping in past her and launching into a poem from the book she gave him. The thematics are essentially well-matched to their current situation, and Angela can’t help but giggle in a what are you doing sort of fashion.

When Shawn finishes the recitation, he puts the flowers on the table and takes her arms. He’s breathless with nerves, but clearly wants her to hear him.

Shawn: I’ve changed a lot since the last time we had these conversations. I have, but I sure wasn’t acting like it. I’m sorry about the way I reacted, and I don’t care if you want to pursue this thing. In fact, I’m proud of you, and I want you to, if that’s what you want. And if it means another few years apart, then so be it. We came back to each other once.

Angela doesn’t even know what to say. She doesn’t know how to convey that she was going to decline the offer, or if she even still should with this turn of events. Thankfully, she’s saved by the bell, in this case her cell phone ringing. He steps back and allows her to pick it up.

As she engages with the call, we can tell that the news is shocking. Shawn tries to get something out of her as she listens, desperately trying to get a read on the situation. When she hangs up, she just stares at him for a couple of seconds.

Shawn: Ange, you’re killing me.

Angela manages to stammer out that she’s been offered a role in an off-Broadway show. Then, she’s finally able to grin. She repeats the statement, trying to make herself believe it. It’s not her big break, no, but it’s a start – and it’s here. She doesn’t have to go anywhere. The two of them, her time here, aren’t finished quite yet.

Shawn pulls her into a hug, lifting her and spinning her. When she lands back on her feet, the two of them share a big damn kiss –

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

The sophomore class is assembled outside the door to the black box, anxiously waiting for Angela to put up the finalists for Kossal. The performers are trying their best not to throw jabs at each other, while the techies hang back against the wall and watch the near stampede in mild amusement.

Lucas: If any of you decide you’re going to the pit because of this, can I watch?

Riley tells them to ignore him, reminding the core group that whatever happens, they’re going to be happy for one another. They all agree, although it’s hard to tell if that sentiment is going to hold true…

Angela emerges, silence immediately settling over the crowd. You could hear a pin drop. She begs for a moment to escape once she puts it up before they all stampede, then moves to pin the list onto the bulletin board. She dives back into the classroom and slams the door just as the wolves descend, trying to see who got the three coveted spots.

Farkle elbows his way through, making it to the front first and getting a look for himself. From his expression, we can almost imagine the list before we see it.

Zay Babineaux. Maya Hart. Riley Matthews.

No Farkle Minkus. No summer program. No successful path to the top.

Sound grows muted around Farkle as the others get close enough to look for themselves. He can’t bring himself to react. He can’t even breathe.

He’s jostled out of it when Charlie bumps him in the back on accident, en route to giving Zay an enthusiastic hug. Maya and Riley eagerly congratulate one another, turning expectantly towards Farkle. Obviously not certain what to say to him, but hoping he’ll opt to take the gracious approach instead and make it easy on them to enjoy their laurels.

What do they want from him? A congratulations? Farkle doesn’t have it in him to give. He sort of sputters an incoherent statement and backs away, trying to wrap his head around it. How this could have possibly happened.

Zay: Seriously? Are you about to diva meltdown? What happened to being happy for each other?

Farkle, panicked: Yeah, well, that’s easy to say when –

Charlie: It’s okay, dude. There will be other opportunities –

Farkle is beyond that. He’s sliding back into manic, figuring he must have let himself slip up somewhere along the way. Or that this is all some elaborate ruse on their part – like they all knew if they got him off his game, he’d be easier to thwart.

Zay: You think I’d choose to be friends with you just to get some made up advantage over you? Believe me, man, I don’t hate myself that much.

Riley: Farkle, that’s not true –

Maya: Farkle. [ breaking through the haze, over everyone else ] Can’t you just be happy for me?

She holds his gaze, obviously hurt. Hoping he’ll say the right thing. But all he can manage is a non-answer.

Farkle: I – need a second. I need – just leave me alone.

Farkle storms away towards the auditorium, desperate to escape. The others watch him go, a myriad of emotions swirling around them but disappointment being the most unifying one.

Zay: Guess people don’t really change.

Maya looks more wounded than anyone else. She breaks away from the group, marching in the other direction.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Jack is having his final conduct meeting with Wyatt, having made his decision on what his punishment will be. Eric is also present.

The final verdict is somewhere down the middle: Wyatt is being expelled from AAA effective at the start of the new term, but he will be allowed to finish out the remainder of this school year. Wyatt doesn’t have any complaints at this point, resigned. He claims that AAA is a hellscape and totally corrupt. The administration clearly has their favorites, and they have no idea how rotten the place is from the inside out.

Eric, calmly: You seem quite critical of this so-called rotten environment, in spite of how you had an active hand in keeping it alive…

Wyatt chooses not to comment, Jack dismissing him. As he heads out, he warns Jack that getting rid of him isn’t going to get rid of the problems at Adams. For one, he’s not the creator of the AAAC, but more pointedly the page is not the perpetrator of all the mean stuff people say about each other. They do all that themselves. Like he’s been saying, it’s just the messenger. And they’ve just shot it.

Wyatt: So if you really believe you’re making a difference, maybe you try tackling the toxic waste that serves as the very core of this school. But that would require actually being a competent administrator, so…

Eric rises and shoos him out, Jack taking the intended hit anyway. He closes his eyes and rubs his temples as Eric shuts the door behind Wyatt, releasing a sigh and claiming he thinks they made the right choice expelling that kind of bad energy.

When Jack doesn’t seem placated, Eric settles down across from him and comes to his defense. Wyatt is just postulating, and he made a good decision.

Jack nods along, but it’s evident there’s a lingering inkling of doubt…

INT. AAA - ATRIUM - DAY

As Wyatt exits the front office, he pulls out his phone. He crafts a message to AAA Confessions, warning them that Jack is on the warpath. The page is probably going to be officially shut down before the end of the school year. What are they planning to do?

The confessions page starts a message back… then doesn’t respond. Wyatt never gets an answer.

INT/EXT. LUCAS’S BEDROOM / LUCAS’S FIRE ESCAPE - DAY

Lucas is flipping through the McCullough pamphlet, but he can’t stomach looking at it for too long. Still feels like too daunting a decision to make.

He climbs out onto his fire escape, settling down and releasing a sigh. He stares out towards the city for a moment, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He starts a message to Riley, but nothing he wants to say comes out right. He finds himself calling her instead.

Lucas: Hey. I know I said… [ a beat ] things have been kind of… [ willing himself to be outright ] Do you still need a plus one?

Let the experiment begin…

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

School has emptied out for the day, only a few stragglers left behind. Farkle is back in front of the bulletin board, staring at the three names and unable to believe that he’s not there.

Something about him isn’t quite right. He’s frantic, frenzied in a way that’s beyond just disappointment from a jilted diva. The longer he glares at the list, clenching his jaw and fidgeting in place, the worse the hysteria seems to become.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “It’s All Over” as performed by Glee Cast || Performed by Farkle Minkus (feat. Zay Babineaux, Maya Hart, Riley Matthews, Isadora De La Cruz, Charlie Gardner, and Lucas Friar)

[ Lyrics specific to characters – follow along here! ]

Farkle spits the words “Miss Moore was supposed to love me, I turn my back and find myself out on the line” towards the list, before whipping around –

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

And suddenly center on a brightly lit stage. It’s almost glaringly bright, to the point where it would hurt to look at. If you’re not in his immediate line of sight, then you’re shrouded in shadow – which is how the figures standing on the stage look to him until they make themselves known and step into the light to argue with him.

Although the rest of the core group is included in the number, it’s more than clear that they’re not actually there. This isn’t actually Maya, Zay, even Lucas singing in opposition to him – they’re all in his imagination, but it doesn’t make it feel any less real. In regards to who is saying what, well, if you read any set of specific lyrics in this show, let it be this number.

As Farkle grows more and more frantic, the opposition towards him grows more and more pronounced. Although this whole thing started with a dashed dream, the way he’s so emotional over them all “dropping” him through the course of the song or turning him away seems like a greater trigger for him than the missed opportunity. So it’s not actually clear what is causing the meltdown, or if he really knows himself.

All he knows is that the entire core group is telling him it’s all over, and he’s fighting against it with whatever he’s got – back to the teeth-gnashing, scrappy, obsessive starlet who clawed his way to first on stage at the start of the school year.

No, Farkle Minkus is far from going quietly. He’s not going anywhere, and he swears that this isn’t how this is going to end.

Oh, boy…

END OF EPISODE.

#S1 #episodes #111

1 note · View note

anotherfiveyears · 6 years ago

Text

31: All My Love

*March 2002, Arlington, Virginia*

Dave hung up the phone and sauntered into the studio, ignoring everyone as he plugged his guitar into the amp and fiddled with the pedals at his feet, just waiting for Taylor to do or say something. He had been baiting him for almost a week at rehearsals, knowing that Taylor was beyond annoyed with him for delaying the album so many times.

They were finally back in Virginia, which was another source of contention with Taylor. He had wanted to leave LA months ago and start session work, but Dave refused to go until Anna was ready. He had kept Anna and Taylor away from each other, fearing Taylor would reveal that she was the reason the album was stalling and he just knew that would make Anna go home too soon. It wasn't until she mentioned missing her parents that he knew she could handle going back, but even then he wanted her to take things slowly.

Taylor didn't understand why Dave was so eager to put Anna's needs above the band's when they weren't even a couple, but Dave didn't consider that his problem. Besides, when he wasn't with Anna, he was out in the desert with Josh working on the new Queens album and loving every second of it. He had forgotten how much he loved being a drummer and Anna had found a certain kind of therapy in surfing, so there was no hurry on either of their parts to race back to Virginia just because Taylor was getting antsy. Winter had come and gone, now Spring was winding down and they were only just beginning to hash out some potential singles for the record.

Chris shifted awkwardly on his feet, his eyes darting from Taylor to Dave to Nate and then back to Taylor again before he finally took a deep breath. "Hey, I can cut the tension in here with a fucking knife. What the fuck is going on?"

Dave kept his eyes down at his pedals, but widely smirked at Chris's remark. "I think Taylor used baking soda to cut..."

"What the fuck did you say?" Taylor hopped off the stool and kicked it backward, sending it crashing to the concrete floor with a deafening clatter.

"I said-" Dave spun around to confront him, only to watch Nate and Chris drop their guitars and head for the door.

"What is your fucking problem?" Taylor screamed in his face. "We finally get a chance to rehearse and you act like a fucking dick!"

"I'm a dick? You're the one breathing down my neck all the fucking time! I can't even get through a fucking phone call without you pounding on the fucking window!"

"That was Josh on the phone, wasn't it?" Taylor spat and Dave almost laughed at how much he sounded like a jealous girlfriend. "You spend all your time with them and every other second is spent with Anna while-"

"Don't you fucking dare, Hawkins," he warned with as much venom as he could muster. "She just went through-"

"And I didn't? Did you not just sit in some dingy fucking hospital room with me for weeks on end? Do you not realize that this is what's going to keep me out of the shit, Dave?" Taylor stepped back and waved his arm towards the instruments laid randomly around the room. "All I want to do is work, man. I want something steady in my life that I can look forward to so I don't have the urge to go back."

It was only then that Dave felt like maybe he had been wrong. Maybe he had put Taylor further back on the priority list than he deserved to be. "We can finish these sessions, but I'm already committed to Queens," he said honestly. There was no getting out of drumming on the album or the tour now.

Taylor nodded, his eyes never leaving Dave's. "No, man. That's cool. Once we finish the gigs, I'm out. I need something dependable."

Dave felt his heart sink and his blood boil all at the same time. Fucking drummers. "Great."

"Yep."

Dave stormed through the front door, slamming it behind him so hard that the pictures on the wall rattled loudly. Scooter's paws eagerly tapping on the hardwood floors greeted him, but when he came around the corner he took one look at Dave and slid to a stop, clumsily turning around so he could retreat back to Anna. Even the dog couldn't stand to be around him now.

Hurling his keys on to the kitchen counter, he began to search through the cabinets."Anna! Where's the fucking whiskey?"

The silence that greeted him sent him into a fury, slamming one cabinet door so hard that it splintered the wood away from its hinges

"David."

Her calm voice did nothing to sedate him."What?!" he yelled, only then feeling bad for taking everything out on her and looked over his shoulder to see her patiently holding the bottle he was looking for. They held each other's stare for a moment before she retrieved a glass from the cabinet beside her and poured him a drink, sliding across the countertop and into his hand. She waited until he had downed it, then pulled out the barstools for them to sit on along with another glass for herself. They sat together in silence, drinking half the bottle between them before he was ready to speak.

"Taylor quit."

The color drained from Anna's face and she took a long sip. "Why?"

Dave just shook his head, too scared to tell her the truth. If she knew Taylor was pissed about all the time he spent with her, she would leave again.

"Why, David?" she repeated.

"He's jealous! He's pissed that I'm working with Josh and not spending all my time with him and the band and the record and... He's just way out of fucking line."

"Is he?"

"What?" he set his empty glass in front of him and looked at her in surprise.

"You're asking a lot of them, David. Of Taylor and Chris and Nate. You wander off to party with Josh and company and now you're asking them to sit on their hands for who knows how long until you're done earning money for another group? How fair is that?"

"They knew that when they signed up for this gig," he spat at her. "They fucking knew I was in demand as a drummer."

"Good," she said sweetly and stood up from her seat. "Then you'll have no problems drumming in your own band now, cause you're sure as hell not going to find someone like Taylor before Coachella."

*April 2002, Indio, California*

"Would you just go talk to him?" Anna shoved him a little on the shoulder when he spotted Taylor's blonde hair in the crowd just outside the RV they had rented for the weekend.

"I don't wanna," he said petulantly, making Anna roll her eyes.

"Fine," she stepped around him and wrenched open the window. "Hey, Hawkins!" she screamed, waving when he spun around at the sound of her voice. "Get in here!"

"Goddamnit, Anna," Dave groaned and retreated back to the bedroom to try and think of what he could possibly say to fix this.

"Anna Banana!" Taylor yelled and bounced up the steps into the RV, throwing his arms around her in a tight hug. "I never see you anymore! Dave keeps you locked away like some..." He trailed off when Dave stepped out of the bedroom and let Anna go.

She stood between them, carefully gauging the tension before deciding they probably wouldn't exchange blows if she left. "Well, I'm gonna go catch The Vines. You two have fun!"

"How's she doing?" Taylor asked once she was gone and flopped down into a bench seat.

Dave slid into the booth across from him and leaned onto his elbows. "She's okay. She has her moments, but she's back to being Anna again."

"She's not wearing her ring... You guys make it official yet?"

"Nope," Dave sighed. "Still roomies."

"Aw, she'll get there, man," Taylor offered. "Just give her a little more time."

Dave nodded and began to fidget, scratching at a stain on the Formica table between them.

"So, how's Josh?" Taylor suddenly asked, making Dave groan.

"Come on, T. Let's not do this."

"I'm just asking as a friend, man! I miss that... us... being friends."

Dave's stare went from the table top to Taylor's face, thinking the conversation might be easier than he expected. "Yeah, me too," he started, then spoke quickly before he lost the nerve. "Look, T... I'm sorry. About the album and putting you guys off and all that shit I said in the studio... I was an asshole."

Taylor sat silently, then raised his eyebrows and waved his hand to get him to continue.

"... and I don't want you to quit. I really don't, but I have to finish this shit with Queens."

"Fuck, dude," Taylor whined and put his head in his hands.

"Dude, just... it would mean a lot to me if you'd watch the set tonight. We'll have a good time tonight, play the gig tomorrow and we can just... be done."

Taylor sighed deeply and threw his head back into the wood veneer wall behind him. "Yeah, okay," he said quietly.

That night, Dave channeled every ounce of anger and frustration he had accumulated in the past few months and threw it into the kit, earning a surprised glance from Josh during the opener and then an excited smile when the desert crowd exploded in front of them. The entire set was flawless and fun, and he was just beginning to think it wouldn't be so hard to break up the Foo Fighters when he saw Anna and Taylor at stage left, both of them grinning and nodding along to the music. The anger suddenly dissipated and he began to play because he loved it, not because he had something to prove.

During the party backstage, he felt the familiar buzz of the music industry discovering fresh meat and managed to corner Josh long enough to break the news that he wouldn't return for a second album.

"Is it Taylor? He's fucking pissed, isn't he," Josh asked and took a drag of his cigarette.

"Yeah," Dave sighed and ran his hand through his sweat soaked hair. "He's struggling."

"Don't worry about it, man," Josh shrugged and Dave thought maybe he was being sarcastic. It just couldn't be that easy.

"What?"

"Man, you did me a fucking favor by playing even one song on my record. If you gotta go, you go. We can get a session guy in for the rest of the tour."

Dave stared at him for a long moment, stunned at how chill he was about the entire thing, then almost tackled him to the dirt in a hug.

"You gotta promise me we'll doing something in the future, though," Josh said through his laugh. "Maybe we can score a Beatle or one of the guys from Queen."

"Yeah, I'd love that," Dave nodded and let him go. "But let's get one of the guys from Zeppelin."

They both laughed at how impossible that sounded and wandered back into the party.

When he and Anna finally made it back to the RV, he groaned and began to throw back the cushions around the table so he could turn it into the bed he had slept in the night before, but Anna pulled him upright.

"No," she said firmly and spun him around by the shoulders to shove him down the narrow hallway towards the bedroom. "You had a hell of a night and have an even bigger day tomorrow. You take the bed."

He fell forward onto the mattress, his voice muffled by the blankets, "I have to take a shower first."

"Do those six bottles of water you dumped over yourself during the set not count?" she laughed and began to pull off his shoes. "Taylor kept singing the Flashdance song."

Once his shoes were off, he rolled onto his back. "Did he say anything else? Did he like the set?"

She shot him a questioning look and pulled a towel out of a cabinet to throw at him. "He told you he loved it, David."

"Yeah, but that was to my face. I want to know what he really thinks."

"I think he honestly loved it. He knew the songs, sang a little and even air drummed along with you," she giggled a little at the memory. "He's got a great voice! Do you need help with your shirt?"

Dave smiled up at her, thrilled that Taylor had like the set. "Yeah, my arms are useless right now."

"'Kay, sit up," she straddled his knees and grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head and then huffed when he got tangled in the sleeves. "You gotta work with me, David!"

"I'm trying!" he whined, then laughed when she swore in frustration.

Once he was free of the fabric, she tossed it aside and sat back on his knees to glare at him, but when his hands went to her hips the mood shifted from light to something very different. The music from the main stage drifted through the open window and Anna smiled down at him when she recognized Siouxsie and the Banshee.

"Just like old times, huh," she said softly and rested her hands on his shoulders.

He stared at her, wondering if he would have made it through the stress and anxiety of the weekend without her. "I'm really happy you're here, Annie."

"Me too," she whispered and leaned into him, kissing him softly at first before pulling away.

"Anna...," he started, searching her face for any clue as to what she was feeling but she only looked worried.

"Can we do this?" she asked, then shook her head a little realizing it was a stupid question. "I mean, do you still want... me?" The last word came out as a shy squeak and she looked down to hide her red cheeks.

He ducked as much as he could to see her face and squeezed his hands over her hips. "I never stopped wanting this, Annie. Not for a moment."

Her eyes snapped back to his and filled with tears, though he had seen enough of her tears in the past six months to know these were different. These weren't tears of anguish and anger, they were tears of relief. She pulled him to her and kissed him again, leaning into him until he was laying back on the mattress. He slid his hands from her hips underneath her loose t-shirt to unclip her bra, but couldn't find the clip... or a bra for that matter. He whined against her lips, in actual physical pain from wanting her so badly and she took mercy by quickly unbuckling his belt and slipping her hand down the front of his camo cargo shorts.

"Fuck, Anna," he moaned when her fingers brushed against him but they both froze when they heard the RV door swing open.

"Dave? It's Taylor!"

In one swift move, he sat up while Anna rolled off of him and onto the floor, laying perfectly still in the tiny space between the bed and the wall.

"Whoa, you okay, man?" Taylor asked from the bedroom door, unable to see Anna from where he was standing.

"Yeah, just tired from the set," Dave said quickly and leaned forward to hide any evidence that Anna had just been all over him. Cold showers, a kick in the nuts, that time Gus forgot a towel and wandered around in front of everyone totally naked, he thought, eventually calming himself down enough to stand and actually listen to what Taylor was saying.

"... you were really great up there, man. Can we... you know... talk?"

"Yeah... let me just grab a shirt and we can take a walk." Dave casually walked back into the bedroom while Taylor waited. He pulled a shirt out of his suitcase and felt Anna's hand around his ankle, looking down at her as she silently laughed from the carpet. Dropping to his knees, he covered Anna's body with his own. "I'll be right back," he breathed. "Don't go anywhere." She nodded and kissed him, making him hop up as fast as he could before he had to focus on Gus's naked ass again to kill yet another Anna-induced hard-on.

Taylor frowned when Dave shut the bedroom door behind him. "Hey, where's Anna? I thought she came back here with you."

"She wanted to catch the Siouxsie set," Dave offered. "She's been a big fan since she was a kid."

"Anna...," Dave sang her name softly into the dark motorhome but stumbled up the steps and onto the carpeted floor with a loud thud. "Ow! Shit!"

He heard her grumble and the bed squeak when she turned over, but she was still after that. Goddamnit, he thought. Of course she fell asleep.

He and Taylor had walked around the entire backstage area at least five times before they finally came to the conclusion that they would readdress Taylor quitting after the gig tomorrow, but regardless of the outcome they would still remain friends. With the last huge stress off his shoulders, he crawled down the narrow hallway to the back room and up onto the bed.

"Annie...," he whispered, tasting pure tequila on his own breath. Jesus, how many shots did we do? he thought.

"David?" she stirred and rolled onto her back. "Hey, kitten. How'd it go?" she gave him a sleepy smile and sat up a little, revealing her black push up bra.

"Is that for me, Annie?" he asked, reaching out to hook his finger under the shoulder strap.

"David...," she laughed and ran her fingers through his hair once he crawled close enough. "You're drunk!"

"Only a little," he frowned, worried she might not want to fool around with him anymore, but she pulled his face to hers and kissed him deeply, then giggled when he scrambled under the covers with her.

There was no way he would have said it sober, but the tequila swimming around in his blood thought it was the perfect comment to end the evening. "When are you gonna be ready to marry me and start on those eight kids?"

She hummed a little laugh against his chest then stretched against him so she could kiss his throat.

"Give me another five years, kitten."

#anotherfiveyearsfic

3 notes · View notes

some-mad-lunge · 7 years ago

Text

Thank God - Ringo Edition

AU - Easy never stops Ringo from getting on that train. Why? Because my imagination will not stop where Ringsy is concerned. _____________________________

It had been over six weeks since Ringo had left Cologne on a train bound out of Easy’s life. No one mentioned Ringo in Easy’s company after that day, not even Tobias.

There was a fragility to Easy now that Tobias had never seen in his friend but he figured with time he’d would be back to normal but so far Tobias had been wrong, very very wrong.

Easy went to work at the kiosk, he’d go out with his camera for hours, he hadn’t stepped foot in WG and he avoided the apartment like it housed the plague. He didn’t laugh. He didn’t cry. He just sat there. No one even knew if he was listening half the time when they spoke to him. He just had this far away look in his eye. He spent most of his time in his room, the only companion he seemed to enjoy was Stinker, who seemed to know what Easy needed. Tobias would have believed Easy didn’t even know how to use his voice anymore if he hadn’t heard the low rumbles of his conversations with the dog from the other side of Easy’s bedroom door.

The only person who had heard from Ringo was Paco. He brought him up once when Easy, who had insisted he wasn’t hungry because apparently he survived on oxygen alone now, went and hid in his room from his roommate and declined dinner. Tobias had had enough and went to WG to get some re-enforcements.

“I don’t know what to do anymore, how do I fix him?”

Eli just looked sad and Saskia looked like she wanted to say something but was biting her lip.

“I heard from Ringo yesterday.”

Tobias whirled around and arched an eyebrow at Paco.

“He’s still my friend Tobias, not to mention your brother.”

Tobias huffed at that, like he needed reminding.

“He’s coming back to town this weekend. I convinced him to meet me for a beer. He sounds almost worse than Easy. It’s like neither of them know how to exist anymore.”

“Ringo deserves it, Easy doesn’t.”

“Enough!”

Everyone turned to look at Saskia, who suddenly had wild eyes and a snarl on her face as she glared at Tobias.

“You Tobias, more than anyone, should know how this feels for both of them”

“Me, what does it have to do with me?”

“Ever since Kay-C left to go be Hauke’s fake fiancée you’ve been just as bad, but it’s almost like Easy and Ringo aren’t allowed to be heartbroken but you are. You don’t get a say in that.”

Tobias didn’t know how to handle Saskia like this, who was this bossy, annoying woman?

“It’s different.”

Saskia couldn’t keep her disgust for Tobias from her voice.

“It’s love Tobias, it’s different and the same for everybody. If you care for Easy like you say you do you would want him to have whatever makes him happy. If Ringo makes him happy you should be helping him get back to him. You changed, is it so hard to believe Ringo could too?”

Tobias looked around the room, looking for support from Paco and Elli, and found none.

“She’s right Tobias, they love each other.”

Ellie looked at Paco with glowing eyes, Paco just smiled back at her and then turned to Tobias.

“We should help them Tobias. We stick our noses in anyway, why not use it to help?”

Tobias couldn’t believe what he was hearing, his friends were insane and he told them so.

“You’re all crazy. They just need time and they’ll see how much better off they are. Trust me.”

He stormed out and headed back to his apartment. It was just another relationship, Easy would move on, and Paco was no doubt wrong and Ringo probably already had.

He made his way inside and headed for Easy’s door. He was about to knock when he heard it. Easy, crying. No not just crying but sobbing, deep shuddering sobs that sent shivers down Tobias’s back, and he could hear Stinker whining, no doubt the dog trying to comfort his friend. Tobias leaned his head against the closed door.

Fuck, he thought, fuck, fuck, FUCK.

He turned around and headed back to WG, stormed in, slammed the door behind him and looked right at Saskia.

“Okay, this is what we’re going to do.”

Ringo didn’t know how Paco had been able to convince him to spend his first night back in Cologne at his old apartment. He should have got a hotel, but six weeks of living on his sister’s couch with no income didn’t mean he had money to throw around. He was only back because Kira had kicked him out anyway. She’d had enough of his wallowing.

She’d been supportive at first, listening to him unload his broken heart, listened to his regrets. She’d understood, she’d been compassionate but firm, hell she’d bought him ice cream, stating that it’s what every broken heart needed.

But as time wore on and Ringo wasn’t getting over it Kira got more and more frustrated with her brother.

“This isn’t you Ringo. You fight for what you want or you move on, you can’t stay in this limbo forever. Maybe you need to accept that you’ll never be over Easy, not really, but God brother get your ass off my couch.”

And so Ringo realized this ache, this emptiness wasn’t going to go away, it was a part of him now. But the rest of him needed a job, and a place to live and to get up every morning, even if the day ahead would be void of any real happiness. It’s what people did, or at least he assumed what people did, he’d never been like most people anyway.

And if he had to look at pictures of him and Easy on his phone before he went to sleep every night, before he could even attempt to sleep, then he would live with it.

And if he had to wake every morning reaching for someone who wasn’t there, and fight back the tears that came up, well then so be it. So when he’d texted Paco he was coming back to town, was going to find another flat share and a new place to work, so that he could avoid his walking heartache at all costs Paco pounced. First he convinced him to meet for a drink. Then a few days later he said Easy was going out of town for a weekend visiting some uncle that Ringo didn’t even know he had. He could stay in his old room, at least for a few nights until he found somewhere else. Before Easy came back.

Clearly a glutton for punishment Ringo agreed, because if he couldn’t have Easy anymore than maybe he could relive the memories where he’d once been allowed to.

The heaviness multiplied the moment the building came into view. It was worse when he was in the elevator. Even alone his reflex was to reach out to grasp Easy’s hand in the tiny space and he cursed himself when he realized what he’d done.

He walked into WG and was greeted by hugs from Elli and Saskia and the smile from Paco.

“We missed you Ringo, nothing has been the same without you.”

Saskia’s words surprised him, she’d never been overly interested in Ringo before.

“Go put your stuff in your room man, we’re going to go grab some dinner to bring back. You’re probably tired from the journey, go get settled.”

Paco half smiled at him and they all shuffled out the door.

Then here he was, standing alone in the apartment like the last six weeks hadn’t happened. Like he had any right to be there. Like he had any right to the memories he’d made with Easy in these walls. He carried his stuff up to his old room but other than placing the bags down in the doorway he couldn’t bring himself to step inside. There were memories and dreams held in that room too raw to face right now, in the light of day. He needed the cover of darkness before he was in the bed where he last held Easy because he knew it was going to hurt.

But he would do it, he had no other choice and he deserved all the pain it would bring him, every damn bit of it.

God he wanted a beer. *** Easy was sitting on the couch looking out the window, Stinker curled on his lap. Tobias was watching his phone intently. He wanted to pretend to be stealth but honestly he could run around the apartment naked and Easy wouldn’t notice. In fact he had.

Then Tobias saw his phone light up and a two word text from Saskia, “Go time.”

“Oh my God Easy, we have to get to Elli and Paco’s!”

Tobias jumped out of his chair and grabbed Easy by the arm.

“What the hell, why?”

“Elli said Paco fell in the shower and he can’t get up and he’s too heavy for her.”

Tobias felt a little bad for the lie but as a group they knew Easy would over come anything if meant helping someone he cared about, they knew only an emergency would get him through the door to WG.

And they were right. Easy pushed himself off the couch, causing Stinker to yip and jump to the floor. Easy was out the door and Tobias was right behind him.

He watched Easy barrel into WG and then stop dead in his tracks.

Tobias looked over Easy’s head, made eye contact with his wide eyed brother who stood motionless in the kitchen, nodded his head and shut the door in his own face.

*** They just stared at each other and Easy didn’t dare move a muscle. He looks the same. How can he look the same? Hadn’t it been a million years since he’d seen that face?

“Easy.”

Ringo says his name with such reverence and sincerity that Easy has to close his eyes. He has to savour the moment, it’s the first time he’s felt whole in weeks.

When he opens them again he half expects to wake up or snap out of the hallucination. But Ringo is still there. Flesh and blood and heat and every piece of Easy is alive and warm again. He forgot what that felt like, to be warm.

*** He looked thinner and his eyes looked hollow and Ringo ached to touch him. To soothe and hold him and banish anything in the world that would dare haunt Easy Winter.

But Ringo knew he was the villain in this story and he’d live with that and pay for that for the rest of his life.

“I’m sorry, you weren’t supposed to be here. I never would have come had I known.”

He turned toward the stairs, he had to get away before he was on his knees, begging Easy for just another chance to love him again, to be the hero of Easy’s story. To reclaim the only good and real thing he’d ever held in his hands.

“I’ll grab my stuff and be gone in 5 minutes.”

“You won’t be gone.”

Easy’s voice caused Ringo to turn and he realized Easy was somehow standing right behind him.

Easy took Ringo’s hand and placed it on his chest, pushing his palm over his heart, into his heart, with a firm hand.

“You’ll always be right here, right where you’ve always been. My heart won’t let me let you go.”

Ringo closed his eyes, as the tears started. Because he could feel the skin of Easy’s hand against his and it was too much and not enough. It would never be enough.

“Look at me Ringo, please.”

Blue eyes looked into hazel, and it was like no time or distance had ever come between them. Like the last six weeks didn’t happen. And Ringo felt the facade he was always barely holding together start to crack

“Tell me Ringo. Tell me you’ve been miserable too. Tell me that the you don’t want me to be happy without you. Tell me you don’t know how to be happy without me.”

An almost bitter laugh escaped Ringo’s lips as he pulled his hand away from Easy’s grasp.

“Miserable?! Miserable would be a God send. I have been in hell without you Easy. A hell I built for myself. To not see you or touch you or laugh with you. To not be able to spend every second showing you how much I love you. And to know that you are out in the world but not in MY world. Knowing that nothing I do will ever be enough and to know that you hate me. To think that some other man could…”

His voice cracked as he choked back a sob. He was trying to stop himself from shaking. The pain he felt, the rage he felt at himself, it was all bubbling up and he couldn’t keep it down. He needed to lock it down because if he fell apart he knew he’d never be able to put himself back together.

**** “Say it again.”

Easy was surprised by the conviction in his own voice. But he knew, he finally knew, he just needed to hear it again.

Ringo looked at him confused. Yet what he saw in Easy’s face, the light and the truth and all that was Easy was radiating at him. The rage ceased and a hope that Ringo only allowed himself to feel late at night when he dreamed started to swell in his chest.

One more time. He would try one more time. Hell he’d tried until his dying day. If Easy needed that Ringo would give it to him, even if it tore his heart to shreds every time Easy walked away. He would always give Easy every piece of himself that he could.

He stepped closer, unsure at first but then placed his hands on Easy’s shoulders. To hold him in place, to anchor himself. He gazed into Easy’s wet eyes and the softness that lived in them.

“I love you Easy. I will do anything if you’d let me…”

But his words were cut off when Easy launched himself into Ringo’s arms and claimed his lips in a kiss that caused his knees to buckle. It tasted of salt and forgiveness and love and Ringo wanted to weep with happiness.

Easy kept leading him back, stroking his chest, his tongue sweeping into his mouth and Ringo was thankful when Easy pushed him down on the couch before his knees gave out.

Then Easy was in his lap, straddling his hips, he cradled Ringo’s head in his hands as he pressed kisses all over his face.

“I love you so much.” Easy whispered as his lips moved over Ringo’s face. “Never leave me again, I can’t breath without you.”

“Easy I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness but…”

Easy cut him off with another kiss. He didn’t want to hear it, didn’t need to hear it. He needed to feel it, he needed Ringo to make him whole again.

“Shhh. Just love me. Let me love you. It’s all I need.”

Ringo pulled back, his head was spinning, his heart was bursting, and he needed to see Easy’s face, because he needed to know he meant it. Ringo needed to know he had Easy back, that he could stay here, that he could finally stay in the only place he’d ever felt like he belonged.

He cupped Easy’s face and gazed into his eyes, because every question Ringo ever had was always answered when he looked into his Easy’s eyes.

They just looked at each other, taking in dimples and cheekbones and making sure nothing had changed. That time hadn’t erased anything. That they were still real.

Then Easy covered Ringo’s hands with his own and a smile seemed to light his eyes. Ringo felt blinded by it and then he knew what Easy was trying to tell him, felt it to the marrow of his bones.

“Thank God.” was the last thing Ringo said before he claimed Easy’s lips again and came home.

#ringsy #Easy x Ringo #Easy Winter #ringo beckmann #ringo x easy #fan fic

84 notes · View notes

stormlight1 · 7 years ago

Text

Feral - A Labyrinth Story

Just wanted to say a quick word of thanks to those who are reading/liking/commenting/reblogging. I’m getting used to Tumblr’s platform so bear with me.

Two

Sarah lay on the bed in the guest room that had served as her bedroom for the past eight months, a cold compress over her eyes. Despite the relatively early hour, she kept the lights dimmed and the shades drawn, hoping it would help ward off the tension headache she could feel developing in that spot right between her eyes. She'd just gotten off the phone with her divorce lawyer, who'd wanted to go over the proceedings of tomorrow's court case one final time, to make sure she knew what she was supposed to say and do in order to get her fair share of monetary assets out of the deal.

How ironic, came the humorless thought. She'd never realized just how much getting a divorce resembled putting on a play. Move just so, say exactly this, or else it could all be shot to hell, and the act would be ruined.

"Say your right words," she mumbled as her lips curled into a sardonic smile.

Honestly, she didn't really care how much money she got out of it. She knew she wouldn't get the house—that wasn't up for debate—but she didn't want it anyway. And what in the world would she do with furnishings when she had nowhere to put them? The only concerning matter to her was her daughter. In terms of child support, she would put on her little play and make sure she squeezed every penny she could out of that heartless bastard, if it meant ensuring that Katie would be taken care of until she turned eighteen. Augustine was wealthy enough, thanks to his family; he'd been left with a small fortune when his father died three years ago, so he could damn well see to it that his only daughter never wanted for anything.

It was the fact that, within those pages and pages of documents she'd repeatedly gone over with a fine-tooth comb, not a single mention of her husband's parental rights had come up. As far as she could tell, he hadn't asked for anything regarding joint custody. He'd asked for visitation rights, but it looked as if he had no interest in helping to raise his own daughter. No weekend visits, no splitting her down the middle, living six months in one house and six months in the other…

Not that Sarah wasn't relieved by this. She had spent the first two years of her parents' divorce in just such an arrangement, living in Manhattan with her mother (and Jeremy) over summer vacation and winter breaks. Spending the other nine months in the house she'd been born and raised in, so she wouldn't have to transfer schools. Life there was all so normal and boring.

As a teenager she'd loved the excitement of living with her actress mother, spending as much time behind-the-scenes in the playhouses as she did at home. She'd felt like a grownup when her mother took her to bars with her friends after a successful show, celebrating all through the night. Cocktails and expensive food and beautiful, glittering clothes and jewelry … it had all been so glamorous, and Sarah was determined to have such a life for herself when she grew up.

Then, of course, her father had decided that such a hectic lifestyle was no place to raise a teenaged girl. Especially one as strong-willed as Sarah, who was so clearly influenced by the behavior of the adults around her. He'd filed for full custody, having just remarried himself, and the courts had granted it.

Sarah's mother didn't even put up a fight.

Sarah had hated her father for that, and she'd been sure her "evil stepmother" was the one to blame for convincing him to take her away from that life. Add a new little half-brother into the mix, and she'd been certain it was all some elaborate plot to gain a free babysitter and household slave.

So many years later, though, Sarah could admit she'd been ridiculous. She'd so often accused Toby of being spoiled rotten but she'd been spoiled herself, by her mother, her mother's friends… Her father had been right to pull her away from that world and force her into a life of stability. And now the thought of her own daughter possibly going through such an ordeal made Sarah shudder.

So, really, she should be grateful that her husband didn't want Katie. Had he demanded joint custody—or, heaven help her, full custody—she wouldn't have stood a fighting chance. After all, he was the one with the house, the money, and the steady, full-time career. Everything the courts thought important to properly raise a child.

Sarah, on the other hand, was currently homeless, stuck living in her parents' house, working two part-time jobs in an attempt to save enough money for an apartment close to the neighborhood. Just so she wouldn't have to uproot Katie's life any more than it already had been. Now she wished she'd tried to finish her college courses on top of raising a child, because it seemed a mere high school diploma just wasn't going to get her very far, career-wise. And on top of that, while she was relieved that she wouldn't have to fight Augustine to keep her own daughter, she was also completely outraged on Katie's behalf. Exactly how was she supposed to explain to a seven-year-old that Daddy didn't want her anymore?

A hot tear slipped down Sarah's cheek from the corner of her eye. She irritably brushed it away, knocking the compress to the floor. Outside, a flash of lightning briefly outlined the half-drawn shades, illuminated the wooden floor. She mentally counted to five seconds, before the low growl of thunder followed. A storm was approaching, it seemed. More silence, and then another flicker of light. She only got to three when the rumble followed it. It was coming on fast. She frowned, thoughtful. Toby had taken Katie to the park to play, and it was a bit of a walk. They probably wouldn't make it back before the storm hit, and she didn't like the idea of them out in the middle of it by themselves.

Inspiration struck, and she abruptly sat up, headache forgotten as she scanned the floor for her sneakers. She'd go out and meet them halfway. A walk would clear her head a bit, and besides, she'd always liked the way the air smelled just before a storm. Sharp and fresh, like ozone and rain. As a kid, she used to go walking in storms, just for fun (and as an added bonus, it drove Karen crazy when she came home sopping wet, trailing mud and water). There was always the hum of tension in the air, a slight crackle that brushed the fine hairs on her arms, as if the world held its breath in anticipation.

She slipped on her shoes and grabbed a light sweater, pounded down the stairs to snatch a pair of umbrellas out of the stand beside the door. Her parents had gone out to dinner to meet some of her father's old college buddies. They didn't plan to be home until very late, or very early. Which, of course, left Sarah to keep an eye on the kids. Just like old times, she thought dryly, although Toby hardly needed a babysitter anymore. She pocketed a house key and was just about to step out when the telephone rang in the hallway.

She muttered a curse and answered with an impatient "Hello?" A loud burst of static greeted her and she winced and moved the handset away from her ear. "Hello?" she repeated, a bit cautiously. More static, what sounded like a few garbled words that she couldn't quite catch through the white noise. She thought one of them might have been her name. Thunder rumbled again, an ominous warning. She glanced toward the open front door. "Look, I can't understand you," she said loudly. "The storm must be interfering. I have to step out for a bit, so try calling back later, okay?" And she unceremoniously hung up. It had probably just been her lawyer again, wanting to go over the details of her case for the umpteenth time. She personally thought him a bit anal about the entire event, but she supposed that was what made him good at his job.

She stepped outside and closed the door behind her, hopped down the porch steps just as the wind picked up with a sudden shriek. It buffeted her back as she hurried down the street, whipped her hair into a frenzy around her face and tempted a little giggle from her lips despite her sour mood. Two blocks away, she came upon the children, hunkered down against the gale. Katie walked in front as her uncle walked just behind her, pushing her along. "Ahoy there, mateys!" Sarah called. "Need a little help?"

"Mommy!" Her daughter raced ahead and threw herself into Sarah's arms. "The wind almost blowed me away!" she exclaimed, breathless. "Just like Dorothy and the tornado!"

"It did, did it? I was wondering where that flying monkey had come from!" Sarah nudged her brother's side playfully and gained a light punch in the arm in retaliation. A fat raindrop landed on her cheek, another on her upturned hand. The sky growled its displeasure. "Uh-oh!" she gasped in mock terror. "The maelstrom is about to break! The rain goblins are almost here!"

"Oh no!" Katie shrieked in delighted terror. "They sound really mad!"

"Don't worry, we've got force-fields!" Toby grabbed one of Sarah's umbrellas and opened it as a short torrent of cold drops hit them. He held it in front of himself and Katie like a shield, but the wind had other ideas, abruptly switching directions and threatening to turn the flimsy umbrella inside-out. "Goblins … too … strong!" he gasped as he wrestled with it. "Force-field … failing… She cannae take much more o' this, Captain!"

Sarah laughed loudly as another torrent of drops splattered her face. "Then there's only one thing we can do!" she announced dramatically, and swooped down to scoop Katie over her shoulder. "Retreat!" She broke into a sprint as the sky opened up and released its furious downpour.

Toby whooped and followed, easily surpassing the girls as his bellows of "Red alert! Red alert!" echoed down the street, and Katie's joyous screams of laughter threatened to drown even the roiling thunder.

The phone was ringing again when the sopping trio finally made it into the house. Sarah unceremoniously dumped Katie into Toby's arms and hurried to answer it, but the machine picked up before she could reach it. She waited patiently for the recorded greeting to finish, notepad and pen in hand to jot down the caller's information. Instead, another burst of static came through the speaker. She grimaced, again picking up a few random, garbled words through the static before the connection abruptly cut off.

Along with the rest of the power in the house.

"Aw … damn it," she muttered, and heard a snicker and a scandalized giggle from just behind her. She wrinkled her nose. "Sorry."

"Mommy has to put a quarter in the Swear Jar," Katie whispered loudly to Toby. "I've almost got a whole five dollars saved up now."

Toby sniggered again.

"Har har." Sarah fished a crumpled dollar bill from her pocket, slightly damp. "Here. Prepayment." She handed over the bill and the small flashlight she'd dug out of the drawer under the phone. Katie accepted both with another giggle and scurried up the stairs to her bedroom.

"Think Mom and Dad'll be home soon? Think they're okay?" Toby shifted uncomfortably as he glanced out the living room window. He wasn't afraid of storms, but dark places always made him edgy. Sarah often wondered if his fear of the dark wasn't some throwback to that night so long ago, when it had been storming just like this and she'd summoned the Goblin King on him. Some deep part of his subconscious could still potentially remember, right? She tamped down a stab of guilt. What was said was said. No amount of wishful thinking would make it otherwise.

"I don't think they plan to be home until really late this time," she explained. "Don't worry, I'm sure they're fine. That was probably them calling just now to check up on us." She switched on another flashlight and held it under her chin. "If you're bored, we can always sit around the coffee table and tell ghost stories," she teased.

He pulled a face. "Eh. Can't you just teach me to play poker or something?"

She laughed. "We need to play something Katie will enjoy, too. How about Snakes and Ladders?"

After several games of Snakes and Ladders, and then a few more of Candy Land (with a fine dinner of peanut-butter-and-banana sandwiches and potato chips in between), the power had yet to turn back on, and the camping lanterns Sarah had dug out of the closet were running low on fuel. The storm had raged a good two hours before finally blowing itself out, and she wondered how many power lines it took out with it. It had been a long time since she'd witnessed a thunderstorm that fierce.

She glanced at the clock. Ten-fifteen, and long past time for little girls to be in bed. Or big ones, for that matter, she thought. She did, after all, have her day in court tomorrow. It wouldn't do to show up exhausted. She tended to get emotional and overstressed when she was exhausted, and her lawyer had made it clear that she needed to remain cool and level-headed. "Okay," she announced, "I think it's about time to put games away and go to bed." She ignored the expected protests and ushered the kids up the stairs to their bedrooms. Toby's old nursery looked far more like a twelve-year-old's playground now, and was just about as messy. Sarah gave him a lantern and hastily bid him goodnight before her neat-freak tendencies could kick in and she started tidying up the place. She'd always hated a disorderly bedroom.

Katie's room still looked as it did when Sarah had occupied it way back when. The furniture sat in the exact same spots. The curtains still framed the window just so. Shelves overflowed with stuffed animals and books, knickknacks lined neatly along the edges of the dresser. Posters and pictures had been tacked all over the walls, although Katie clearly preferred her hand-drawn illustrations of horses and kittens over Sarah's former choices of newspaper clippings and theater production posters. A tattered teddy bear held its place of honor on Katie's pillow and Sarah smiled to see it. She tucked her daughter under the familiar worn quilt with its fraying edges. "Did you brush your teeth?" she asked.

"Yup!" Katie confirmed with a nod.

"Did Launcelot brush his teeth?" Sarah teasingly bopped Katie's nose with the bear's.

"He doesn't have any teeth!" Katie squealed around her giggles.

Sarah laughed and ruffled her golden hair. "Okay now. Settle down and go to sleep. Launcelot is tired."

"You're tired," Katie accused.

"I am. So I'm going to sleep now. Goodnight, Katydid." Sarah kissed her and headed to her own room, slipped from her clothes into a pair of cut-off sweatpants and a T-shirt. She probably looked about as sexy as a bag lady in the getup, but it was comfortable and these days comfort was all that mattered. Besides, Augustine had stopped being impressed with her more risque nightwear a long time ago, so she'd long since given up wearing it.

She sighed, pursed her lips as she examined the scattered papers on the bed. Practically a book's worth, she thought. One of those thick, boring ones a person was forced to read in school for their least favorite class. With a sort of childish satisfaction, she gripped the edges of the designer comforter and gave a mighty shake, up-heaved its contents to send papers scattering and flying every-which-way. "Serves you right," she murmured as she slipped between the cool sheets, pulled the comforter over her head to block out the world for a few hours. She'd be forced to face it again soon enough. For now, at least, she welcomed the comfort of sleep, ready to just forget everything for a little while.

"Mommy!"

Sarah slowly roused, groggy and disoriented. And strangely warm. The air was stifling; in her half-asleep state, it took her several moments to realize that she'd fully buried herself under the blankets. She sluggishly clawed around until she found one end and lifted it to allow cool air to flow into her makeshift nest.

"Mommy!" the little voice said again, and she felt something prod at her, trying to shake her awake. She poked her face out from under the covers, squinted up at the small figure hovering over her.

"Katie, it's—" She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. "—one-thirty in the morning! What are you doing up? Did you have a bad dream?"

The little girl shook her head, expression oddly grim. "There's a funny man asking for you," she half-whispered, as if afraid someone else might overhear.

"A funny man?" Sarah frowned and scrubbed sleep from her eyes, feeling slightly more alert. Not quite alert enough to understand what her daughter was talking about, though. "Are you sure you didn't have a dream?"

"Nu-uh." Katie shook her head emphatically. "He said the telephone didn't work, so he had to call you this way, instead."

"The tele—" Now Sarah was really confused. "Was he the one trying to call earlier?"

"Yes, but it didn't work."

She sat up, ran her fingers through her tangled hair. "He isn't at the door, is he?" Her heart slammed against her chest at the thought. But both of the kids knew better than to answer the door to strangers, especially in the middle of the night! Unless … this man was already inside the house. And that thought drove any remaining sleep clear out of her head. She scrambled out of bed, shoved her feet into the first pair of shoes she found, looked around the room for a suitable weapon. A tall, slender bronze statuette on the corner of the dresser caught her eye. A naked lady in art-deco style. The thing was ugly as sin and had probably cost a small fortune. She hefted it, testing its solid weight. It would do. "Okay, where's the funny man hiding?" she asked, pushing Katie behind her as she crept into the hallway. "Is he in the living room? Your bedroom?"

"No, he's not in the house. He's in the mirror." Katie spoke as if that should have been the most obvious thing in the world.

Sarah froze, felt the world tilt crazily and realized she'd braced one hand against the wall to keep from tipping right over. "The … mirror?" Her voice emerged as a squeak. "A funny man … is in your mirror."

"Yup!" Katie regarded her mother strangely. "Are you sick? You look weird."

Sarah swallowed hard and straightened, walked in slow and measured steps down the hall toward the bedroom located at its end. She pushed open the door to find it illuminated in pink from the rose glass of her daughter's bedside lamp; apparently, power had been restored overnight. She started to step in, hesitated as she glanced at Katie. "How about you go sleep in my bed, okay?" she requested. "I want to talk to the funny man for awhile."

Katie shrugged, unconcerned, and trotted back to Sarah's room without argument. Oh, to possess the courage of a child, Sarah thought dryly as she stepped into the bedroom and shut the door behind her. From her position, she couldn't see very well, so she moved further in until she could get a better look. The top of the dressing table glowed softly in a way that had nothing to do with the lamp, and her eyes widened when she stopped directly in front of it and got a first good look at the mirror.

It was definitely not her own reflection staring back at her.

"H-Hoggle!" His name escaped, hardly louder than a whisper as her heart thumped hard against her ribs. A myriad of emotions flowed through her, come and gone so quickly that she hardly had time to feel them, much less sort them out.

"Hello, Sarah," Hoggle replied, and his gravelly voice sounded so dearly familiar, and he looked so genuinely glad to see her that tears sprang to her eyes.

"Where have you been?" she gasped, as the bronze statuette she still held slipped, forgotten, from nerveless fingers. It landed with a heavy thud on the floor, and the startling noise made her jump. "Do you know how worried I've been? You all just … disappeared! Without so much as a goodbye, and I had no way of contacting you or knowing if anything had happened to you and—" She had to stop talking, then, because the lump in her throat had grown too big and tight to speak around. So she stood there and glowered at him, swallowed convulsively to ease the ache in her throat, and swore that she wouldn't break down and bawl like the little girl she no longer was.

Hoggle had removed his cap and now twisted it in his hands, his expression so full of remorse that Sarah almost felt guilty for going off on him like that. Almost. She'd owed him a good chewing-out for just abandoning her, and he owed her one heck of an explanation. "I'm sorry, Sarah," he began, soft and contrite. "I knows just sayin' that won't fix anything. Should've tried harder t' comes back, but it just gots too difficult. Too dangerous t' try an' talk to yas anymore. We thought … it'd be better t' not risk it." He gave her a one-shouldered shrug and a crooked smile. "Figured after a bit, you'd get over it an' go on with life, like you was supposed to."

"How could you expect that?" she exploded, throwing her hands out. "You three were my best friends! How could I just forget?"

"But humans ain't even supposed t' keep in contact, ya know? They ain't supposed t' remember. When they get sent back, they ferget all about the Labyrinth. 'Course, none o' them ever did what you did. You beat Jareth's game, beat the Labyrinth. Don't surprise me none that you remembered, even after we … lost touch." His smile was equal parts smug and impressed, and his eyes gleamed with pride. "'S why I'm here now," he added. "'Cause I thinks you can help. I shouldn't evens be talkin' t' you—Jareth'd boot me straight into the Bog if he found out—but it's worth the risk."

Sarah's stern expression melted into confusion, touched with alarm. "Help with what?" she pressed. "Hoggle, what's going on? Did … did something happen?" She absently worried a thumbnail. "I always felt … maybe something was wrong, back when you three started visiting less and … acting strange. And when you disappeared I wanted to find my way back but I just didn't know how. I'd even considered calling on Jareth to get there. That's how worried I was." She offered a sardonic grin at his snort.

"Good thing you didn't. He'd've never let you go again."

"Yeah." She nodded. "I figured as much." She shifted on her feet, settled herself into the wooden chair to be more eye-level with him. "Will you tell me what's happening? Why did you stop visiting? Why are you risking Jareth's almighty wrath to contact me now?"

He shifted, brow furrowed. "Well, honestly, Jareth ain't in much of a position t' do much about anything, even if he knows. An' I'm pretty sure he does know, tied to the magic as he is."

"What do you mean?" Despite herself, she couldn't tamp the flicker of alarm that caused her heart to quicken in her chest. "I-is something wrong with him?"

Hoggle's sigh was deep and weary and filled with a decade of hopeless struggle. "We tried t' get him t' ask you for help a lot earlier. But you'd … moved on by then. Like we wanted. He refused. Too proud fer 'is own good." He snorted in disgust. "Kept sayin' he'd handle it hisself. Flat-out threatened t' dunk us all in the Bog an' then banish us t' the Wastelands fer good measure just fer thinkin' about askin'. We didn't dare disobey."

"Hoggle, what happened?" Her voice was sharp with worry, and she took several deep breaths in a useless attempt to calm down.

He shifted again, placed his wrinkled cap upon his head, and met her gaze. "Started not long after you left here, an' got lots worse the more time passed. Ain't nothin' anyone can do. Not even the Goblin King." He shook his head, hands twisting his shirt in place of his hat. "Jareth—the Labyrinth—Everything's dyin', Sarah. An' we thinks you's th' only one who can fix it."

Chapter Three

#Labyrinth #Sarah&Jareth #au #drama #romance #humor #tagging is fun #just kidding

7 notes · View notes

ronanwazlib · 7 years ago

Note

Er may I ask for wolfstar first date fluff?

(yes, of course, darling!)

They didn’t really tell anyone what had occurred during winter hols on the first day of 1977. Sirius, typically bursting to speak and bouncing with excited energy, should have presumably found this a difficult task. Maybe it was the… distraction… of a certain bookish, lanky wolf-boy, but he had no trouble at all keeping this information between them. In fact, the lack of guilt he had at keeping something so monumental from his fellow Marauders, hell, from his own brother, was starting to concern him a bit. It wasn’t that he wanted to avoid the topic (he was tired of feeling ashamed for his existence, and this was one thing he refused to let humiliate him in any way), but rather that anytime he got to bring it up in a serious way, meaning no mentions of pranks, no flirting with Mcgonagall, no pining for Evans, no sneaking snacks from the house elves to pacify Peter’s “night hunger,” and absolutely not during detention with Filch leering over their shoulders as they scrubbed cauldrons, or worse, tried to avoid certain death tramping around the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid on a wild nixie chase for Merlin knows what for Professor Whomever- Eugh- was dashed to bits when he opened his mouth. He’d try to force the words out, only to find himself incapable of speaking as he thought back to the night of New Year’s Eve: the four of them, sprawled out in the grass beneath blankets and warming charms and beside a warm fire on the Potter’s estate, the way it had crunched beneath his feet as he’d snuck off for a cigarette with the rest of them asleep, how Moony seemed to silently materialize from the smoke curling in wisps before him. They’d sat talking for maybe an hour in quiet whispers, Remus’ characteristically hoarse voice so soft it caused him to shiver more than the light snow still falling from the night sky. He wasn’t sure how it happened, really… Moony had asked him for a hit off his fag, he’d passed it over without complaint, the tips of his fingers brushing against the taller boy’s windblown cheeks as he did. Moony was freezing, and Sirius refused to ever have anything bad plague his Remus if it could be helped. One moment, he was pressing his own warm palms to Lupin’s cheeks, the next, in a moment of realization, they were staring at one another so intensely Sirius forgot how to breathe. They’d shifted closer, but he didn’t think much of it; that was their way. He and Moony had always been close in a way which was different from his camaraderie with James.

His love for James was loud, and brash, and reckless. It had to be displayed through elaborate pranks, through sarcastic jabs and shoving him into broom closets with Evans (only one time, to be fair, as she’d hexed him rather thoroughly after storming out in disgust), and-and odes proclaimed from tabletops across the Great Hall, arms slung around slumped shoulders that quickly turned into headlocks, turned endearments into insults and good-natured roughhousing. His friendship with Remus was nothing like that, aside from a healthy dose of sarcasm. It was quiet, subtle, natural even. He and Remus were a pair, the two of them together felt as necessary to the order of life as breathing. Remus’ long legs were the best to throw his head upon when dramatically sulking over exams, his nimble fingers the only ones left free throughout the day to absentmindedly card tangles from his dark hair. Moony’s bed was warmest after nightmares of his mother shouting evil things… unforgivable things and the green glare imprinted on the backs of his eyelids and pain, so so much pain. And although Moony might tease him, he never got tired of him, rather made time for him, even if that time was spent listening to Sirius ramble on about nothing while he wrote an essay one-handed, parchment splayed across Sirius’ back, who lay on his stomach in Remus’ lap, taking up most of the window seat in their dorm. They just… were. And Sirius had realized what this meant ages before when he considered that even though he loved Pete and James, it wasn’t in the way he loved Remus. Loving Remus was like loving the magic in his veins, or oxygen in the air. You did it without thinking because you couldn’t even consider it being gone.

They’d met eyes through the shadowy night, Sirius’ fingers tracing the lines of Remus’ cheekbones and jaw, a bit stubbly with the full just four days away and something in Remus’ gaze had lit up. Sirius could just see him, looking a bit smudgy with the smoke hanging from his parted mouth in the dark without the aid of werewolf vision to help him. And it certainly did, for Remus seemed to catch something in the minute details of expressions passing over Sirius’ face as he studied the boy before him. His eyes widened, then closed as he took a shuddering breath and leaned in.

“Sirius.” He’d murmured, and Black had the strangest feeling in his chest, as though he might cry from the intensity of that one sound coming off Remus’ tongue.

“Yeah?” His own speech was still a bit slurred from the firewhiskey bottle they’d nicked from Fleamont’s stores and passed between them as midnight grew ever closer.

Remus shook his head, seeming desperate, almost dazed. “Sirius.” He said again, and then they were kissing. His lips ghosted once across Black’s, who slid his hands back to cup the small curls at the nape of Lupin’s neck, drawing him in and their mouths meshed together, heavy, yet soft and Remus murmured his name again and again in the space between their lips. He wouldn’t stop saying his name even as he leaned in so far Sirius fell onto his back and pulled him closer, and held Remus to him so gently as though afraid to lose him the moment they opened their eyes again. When they parted, breathing each other’s fogged breaths in the cold, Lupin hovered over him, trembling slightly as he used his thumb to smooth the line of worry out of the panting boy’s high, aristocratic brow.

“Sirius.” He whispered again, but now his tone was entirely loving and Sirius was forced to look up at him. And there was Moony, same as ever, with a ridiculous blue knit cap upon his head, smiling down at him. “Happy New Year.”

A laugh bubbled out of his throat, and he shoved at Lupin, knocking him down… and on top of him. “You git! Midnight came almost two hours ago!” he hissed, rolling them onto their sides, jumper and jacket now littered with grass stalks.

Remus freed one hand to push a lock of hair back behind Sirius’ ear. “My apologies.”

Sirius felt warm all over. “I don’t think I can excuse such tardiness, but… You can make it up to me.”

And every time he tried to relate the story (a very, very abridged version of it) to his mates, he got to thinking about it, and then just stood there biting back a smile. It felt so intimate… So special. So theirs. He couldn’t bring himself to tell anyone else about it, not even Mckinnon when he could pry her away from Dorcas. He wanted to keep it between them. He told Moony about it, but the boy only chuckled at him.

“Padfoot, we’re together now.” He said simply. And it was true. Because they were… There was no other option after that. He and Remus just… had to be. “You’ve got to tell them eventually or sharing a dorm with us will get awkward… Besides, I don’t particularly fancy losing my chance at Head Boy because someone keeps using the map to find me and spirit me away to empty classrooms during my rounds.”

Sirius lobbed a chocolate wrapper at his head. “You didn’t even want to be a prefect, now you’re on about nabbing Head Boy, you tosser!”

Remus shrugged. “The bathroom has its perks, and it looks good on a resume. And it’s nice to know that I can give you detention.”

Sirius feigned shock and threw a pillow this time that Lupin expertly deflected with a flick of his wand. “As though you ever do? Sure, send your boyfriend off to polish desks or something with McGonagall when he could be alone with you. ” He snorted. Remus made a face at him.

“You’re not my boyfriend unless we have a proper date. A New Year’s snog in a field doesn’t count.” Remus pointed out, even though he was smiling.

“Fine then,” Sirius replied, hitting him with a charming grin. “Monsieur Moony, would you do me the honor of joining me for a romantic outing this Hogsmeade Weekend?” He finished with an outlandish flourish of the arm.

“The posh accent really ties it all together,” Remus said with a smirk, pretending to consider. “But yes, Pads, I’d love that.”

Sirius came closer, about to kiss the upturned corner of Lupin’s mouth, but Remus stopped him with one hand pressing on his chest. “Wait. We have got to tell James and Peter first. Or else they’d probably think we’re up to something and spy on us and I don’t fancy having to explain to Rosemerta why we suddenly decided to dine with a rat and a bloody stag at the next table.”

Padfoot laughed against Remus’ mouth, hands upon the sitting boy’s shoulders. “You know they’re bound to do that anyways. If I tell James, will you tell Peter?”

14 notes · View notes

readerwinterbarnes · 7 years ago

Text

Help Me - Pt. 14/?

Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky’s refusing to give in and decides to get to bottom of Steve’s secret. But is Steve still willing to take the risk or will he finally come to his senses?

Word Count: 2,838

Warnings: Swapping POV, time skips, angst, so much angst. Not Steve friendly, you get to meet Winter, Steve needs some sense knocked into him

Notes: Right, so school just started again so I won’t be able to post as much as I wanted too. BUT I’ll be posting on the weekends!!! So don’t worry if I seem distant during the week, school’s gonna kick my ass this semester.

Anywho, I hope ya’ll ready for this, cause it’s gonna get tense and as per the warnings it’s not going to be Steve friendly for a bit. Also….you get to meet Winter in this part as well. Let me know what you think! Don’t be a stranger, feel free to talk to me about things! :)

Y/N and I were in the kitchen making breakfast for the others when FRIDAY notified us when the others landed on the pad.

“Pardon the interruption, but it appears they have returned from the mission. Shall I send them up?” From my peripheral vision, I could see Y/N calmly cutting the fruit with a slight tremor in her hands. I myself was standing rigid, knowing full well Steve would most likely start something when he sees her. Like he always does.

“Have them clean up first FRIDAY, they can debrief afterward,” Tony informed him as he filled his mug with more coffee. He looked towards me with a knowing look. “Gives us some time to get ready also.”

“Got it, Boss.”

“Thank you, Tony,, for...for doing that,” I said softly as I went back to taking care of the eggs, noting Y/N having shifted closer to me.

“No worries Frosty, Y/N’s family and we protect family. Just gotta face this shit storm first.” Clint and Bruce murmured in agreement from where they sat at the table. It helped that we had some on our side, but the thought of having to run into hiding with Y/N was beginning to creep in. I would do anything to protect her, Winter would do anything.

Y/N and I were just placing the food on the table when I felt the air shift. Out of pure instinct, I placed myself in front of her just as Sam and Natasha walked in. They looked at us five and gave us all kind smiles. Sam broke the silence first.

“Morning! Y/N I hope you were the one to do the eggs, ya know Bucks is always trying to find ways to poison me.”

“Shut up Birdman, if I wanted to poison you, you’d be dead already.” I snarked back at him, smiling when I saw him freeze, eyes going wide.

“Bucky made the eggs, Sam, but you’ll be fine. We bought poison free Grade A eggs fresh from the market.” Y/N replied in amusement. Sam just shook his head smiling as he sat down with Natasha, who took her place beside Clint.

“I swear, sometimes,” he mumbled as he ate his eggs warily, but soon ignored the possible food poisoning and continued to eat. Nat gave me a small nod, letting me know that they were okay before thanking Clint for the toast with a smile. It wasn’t much longer until Steve came walking in and helping himself to some food, but not before sending Y/N a cold hard glare. I slipped my hand under her shirt, knowing she’d want skin to skin contact to keep her grounded. Her back was rigid as soon as he walked in and kept it together throughout breakfast. Not once looking up to meet Steve’s glare. From an untrained eye, she looked calm, however to a trained one, she looked as if she wanted to bolt out of the room.

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

I left Y/N to catch up with Natasha, letting them have a girls night. Knowing that it would help ease her mind from what happened yesterday.

“You could join us if you want Bucky, you do have the perfect hair length for some braids,” Nat said as she plopped down on the floor gracefully next to Y/N.

I shivered, “No thanks, knowing you, you’d probably just chop it all off and call it a day. Nah, I think I’ll leave you with your nails, hair and spa time. I’m gonna blow off some steam though,” I replied to Nat, who just shrugged with a smirk. I knelt down to kiss Y/N before I left, knowing she’d be safe with Nat. “Stay with Nat, alright? I’ll be up in a few hours. Let JARVIS know if you need me.”

She kissed me back before smiling, “I’ll be here, love you.”

“Love you too, doll.”

It’s not like I wouldn’t have joined them, but the thought of my hair being curled, face masks and nails done made me cringe. No, this is where I wanted to be. Just me and the bag, nothing else. That was until Steve decided he would join me. I chose to ignore his presence and continue with my workout. If he wanted to talk to me, he’d have to make the first move.

“We need to talk.” Ha, ‘course we need to talk, but you’re not going to listen to what I have to say. So I ignored him.

“Bucky, seriously, we really need to talk.”

“Then talk, I got ears.” I snapped out in annoyance.

“Face to face Buck, I don’t want to be talking to a brick wall.” Brick wall? Huh, least that’s still holding up. Wish my patience wasn’t wearing thin though. So I indulge him and hold the bag steady to my side as I turn around slightly, still not face to face, so he’d have to deal with it.

“Alright, talk. Gonna tell ya right now I might choose to block a few things.” I respond stiffly, just wanting this conversation to be over with right now.

“She needs to go and by go, I mean leave the tower.” I groan, resisting the urge to roll my eyes.

“Seriously? Steve, we’ve been over this. She ain’t leavin’.”

“You’re not thinking clearly about this, Bucky. So make a choice, either she leaves the tower or she’ll be transported to Wakanda. Permanently.” He was clearly asking for it. Why couldn’t he just understand that she was here to stay? To stay with me, whether he liked it or not. My hands turned into fists as I shook my head.

“No. No, she ain’t leavin’ Steve. I don’t care what you say, but she ain’t leavin’. It’s either she stays or I leave with her.”

“I can’t let that happen, Buck, she has to go. She’s using you, how many times do I have to tell you? Hydra made damn well sure she’d get any and all information she could gather from us. And she’s using you as the main source!” Before Steve could finish his whole ramble hate speech, I took three long strides across the room and bashed my fist against his face. Watching gleefully as he stumbled a bit from the force. I punched him again and again, each one harder than the first.

“Don’t. You. Ever. Say. That.” I made sure to add a few kicks as well, making sure to aim them towards his ribs, face, any weak spots that would slow him down. I slammed my fist into his face once more before standing up straighter, chest heaving. Steve breathing heavily on his hands and knees.

“At least with her, I can feel things and fuckin’ want to do things every day. I can do things Steve, I can sleep in, eat peanut butter straight out of the jar, breathe and eat when I want to. When I was with Hydra, I didn’t have to feel, didn’t need to. I was just given missions, eliminate the target and do whatever else was needed. No emotional strings attached. But with Y/N, I want to feel. I get to feel my heart burst whenever she laughs, I lose my breath every time she smiles at me.” I glared down at the man that used to be my friend and it hurt. I didn’t know this Steve anymore. I sure as hell am not the same Bucky he used to know. That man died when he fell off the train and he wasn’t coming back, no matter how hard Steve tried. “And if I have to leave with her to keep doin’ that? Then don’t think for a fuckin’ second that I won’t leave without her.”

“And as your friend, I’m going to make sure you’re safe.” With that, Steve charged at me, a huge mass of muscle colliding with mine as we tumbled to the floor. My head flew back as he punched my jaw, giving him the chance to grab my wrists and pin them to my sides. Using my head, I rammed it into his face, knocking him off me with my feet.

“When will you understand that I’m already safe?” Speaking loudly, already done with this bullshit.

“When the threat is gone and I know you’re safe. You don’t know what she can do, Buck.” He replied, standing up already prepared to go another round if need be.

“Oh, and you do? Do tell me, Steve, what else can she do that I don’t already fuckin’ know about?” I looked him straight in the eye, waiting for him to respond.

“She can make you go under, for you to be refrozen for those sons of bitches. She’ll be assisting them when they wipe you again when they re-control you.” I could feel my breath start to quicken at his words. Memories came flying back, me being in the chair, the orders they gave me, the lives he took withering away right before his eyes. The pain. Nothing but pain.

“Don’t…,” I couldn’t help but feel a little bit useless, I was getting overwhelmed by the past that it started to cloud my judgment. If I didn’t retake my control, Steve would win and I wasn’t going to let him. “Don’t talk about things you know nothing about.”

Steve just looked at me with cold, hard, blue eyes. “I know plenty Bucky, enough to know that I am right in what I stand for. Either she leaves, or I’ll have SHIELD send her on a permanent assignment in Wakanda. Away from you.” I watched as he left the room, bloody and clutching at his ribs. But there was something in his eyes that was unsettling. I knew he wasn’t telling me everything and that thought alone sent a curdling feeling to my stomach.

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

The next few days were torture. I was agitated, irritated with everything and everyone. I spent most of my time down at the gym rather than around the others. I couldn’t sleep and food meant little to me. But most importantly, that curdling feeling never left. I could sense something was off with Steve, from the way he acted around the others, how his eye twitched when he saw Y/N and me together.

“Barnes?” I was pulled out of my thoughts when I noticed Tony looking at me paled face, a hint of concern, mixed with panic filled his eyes. I looked down at my hand to notice it holding what was left of the chair arm in its grasp. I was so deep in my own thoughts that I never registered what I was actually doing. Releasing the remnants of the chair, I slumped back away from Tony. Not wanting to accidentally injure him in any way.

“Uh, sorry, ‘bout the chair,” I mumbled softly, turning my eyes away from him. Hating myself for losing my control so easily.

“Um, it’s, it’s okay, never liked it much anyways.” He laughed forcefully, his hands twitching at his sides. Itching to call the suit if need be. “But uh, you okay though? What happened just then?” He sat down at his desk, watching as I slid down to the floor. Making myself as small and non-threatening as I could.

“I’m fine? I don’t know, I just got stuck in my own head. It hasn’t happened in awhile.” Tony hummed in understanding, still not moving from his seat though. I wouldn’t blame him.

“This have to do anything with Steve?” I immediately tensed when he brought him up. The feeling in my stomach intensified, I was more than convinced that there was something he wasn’t telling me.

“I need the location of that base they went to.”

“Uh...what?” This time I looked up at Tony, hands clenched on my knees.

“Their past mission, the location, what is it?” Tony looked at me for a few seconds, eyes widening slightly when he started to connect some of the dots.

“You don’t think he would…?”

“He would, coordinates. Now. I want to leave within the hour.” Turning around abruptly, he had FRIDAY bring up the location of where Steve, Sam, and Nat went to a few days ago. I remembered it instantly, I had to drop off a scientist there before. Never been inside it much, but I had a good memory of it.

“Send Y/N down here.” Tony noticing how tense I was, and didn’t hesitate to have FRIDAY call her down. A few minutes later, a worried Y/N came rushing out of the elevator.

“Bucky? Are you okay? Did something-” She cut herself off as took me in. I could tell she was taking in my aura and how it was causing her to shake. How she was holding back the need to use her powers to calm me down. I took her face in my hands, gently, feeling calmer just by her presence.

“Doll, I need you to listen and listen good. Alright?” Once she nodded, I kissed her softly, “You need to stay down here until I get back.”

“Why?” Both Tony and Y/N asked.

“ ‘Cause I have to leave for a few hours and I don’t trust, I don’t-I can’t...I can’t protect you when I’m not here.” I glanced over her shoulder at Tony. “So the safest place for you is right here. He and FRIDAY will be able to protect you better down here.”

“This has to do with Steve doesn’t it?” Pulling her into my chest, I breathed her in, not ever wanting to let her go.

“I don’t know Y/N, but I’m gonna find out.” I lead her to the couch, wrapping the blanket there around her shoulders. “Protect her, Tony, especially from Steve.” Tony nodded already setting up the protocols with FRIDAY.

“Why the others?” I looked back at Y/N.

“Because I need them to stay away from you. The need to protect you is strong, wanting you safe and that right now is right here. I’ve done a damn good job and suppressing Winter all these years, but he’s persistent. You’re our mission and we need you safe. You need to promise me Y/N, promise me you’ll never leave this room until I come back to get you.” Y/N’s eyes filled with concern, but she agreed anyway.

“I promise Buck, but promise me you’ll come back to me.”

“Always doll, I’ll always come back to you.” I kissed her again before I made my way to the elevator, hearing the locks click into place. Sighing heavily knowing that at least she was safe. I headed straight towards the armory, gathering my things and anything else I might need before heading into the quinjet.

“Hey Buckaroo, Tony here, if you find anything and I mean anything, bring it back with you. Oh, and Y/N says come back in one piece.”

“I’ll radio you when I’m heading back, keep my girl safe Tones.”

“You got it, Barnes.”

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

You and Tony shared a concerned look, Bucky hasn’t acted like this for so long. Disconnected, detached from others, but yet even more aware of his surroundings. You knew Winter was a part of him, has been ever since his programming, but he’s never made a move to surface for years. The longer you thought about it, the more it made sense.

When you entered Tony’s lab, you were immediately hit with such a warning aura, you could literally taste it. It seemed to surround Bucky in a light black fog that threatened to overwhelm you. Not only that, but his posture portrayed his fury along with Winters. Whatever was going on in his head wasn’t good and was bound to have him do something drastic. If Winter was being persistent like Bucky said, then it means that Bucky’s going to let him do what needs to be done.

What exactly, you weren’t sure.

“Is, is he going to be okay?” You asked Tony softly, looking back out the window watching the speck of the quinjet disappearing behind the horizon.

“I don’t know Y/N, but I have a feeling he’s going to need all the help he can get when he comes back.” Together you and Tony chatted, worked in the lab to pass the time. Letting Tony distract your mind with his technical jargon about Dum-E, U and his suits, rather than what Bucky was going after.

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

After a few hours, I prepped the jet into stealth mode as I reached the coordinates. It looked so different from above, hovering over the snow covered trees rather than weaving in between the trees. Finding a clearing, I landed the jet, having FRIDAY lock it down after I leave. I grabbed my gear and headed off towards the location.

First time in a long time, I dug up the connection I’ve buried in the deepest part of me. It was as if meeting an old friend.

‘It’s been a long time, Barnes.’

Bolded ones won’t tag :( Tags ALWAYS open! :)

Motionless Tag List:

@marvel-fics @green-spotlight @sebs-sugar-cookies @akm0o @extraterrestrialsky @allyp1023 @skeletoresinthebasement @chipilerendi @terminatedimpala @debbienewnes84

Help Me Tag list:

@believeitseeitdoit @ellen-reincarnated1967 @suchwildloveisthis @skeletoresinthebasement @9erfect-9osts @loverofthosebands @xoxoaudreymarie @dead-silence @winter-in-wakanda @azaleawardrobeo @isaxhorror @lostinspace33 @musichowler @callie-swagg1 @capandbuck @sorryidontspeakgrounder-world @everythingintensifies @melconnor2007 @screechinginternetcoffee @hellstempermentalangel @emily-ily2 @spideyhufflepuff @thefandomplace @s7sense

Gentle Touch: @debbienewnes84

Everything Tag list:

@sebseyesandbuckysthighs @marvelatmytrash @oh-goodness-loki @jotink78 @foreverlovecaptainswan @pickylittlebitch @just-call-me-mrs-captain @buckyismyaesthetic @debbielovesbucky @shes-a-little-weird-but-perfect @anxuanpham @saladalpaca @specs15 @earinafae @frolicsomefawkes @chameerah @sorryidontspeakgrounder-world @the-witching-hours12-3 @unevenpages @midzilla9957 @feelmyroarrrr @auskitty @unluckyybuckyy @dinah1997 @supernaturaldean67 @httpmcrvel

33 notes · View notes