#i mean. we’re totally in agreement! I just can’t pretend there isn’t a reason for the cultivated echo chamber

[overbearingstruggles]

Sent this sort of thing over the jackinalex earlier this week too but. I think the main thing that upsets me here is the application of social media crime logic to more serious subjects. For the most part, the issue with the fanbase right now is that no matter what they do, they're guilty. It's sort of in the same argumentative vein as politics right now; accuse someone of something bad enough and regardless of whether it's true or not, it's a difficult point to argue without "proving" a different point about yourself. So, for example, in Florida right now, drag is a sex crime and sex crimes are punishable by death. Well, no one wants to be on the side of the sex offender, right? In that way, it's really difficult to argue that we shouldn't listen to victims online because it sort of implies you're on the side of the rapist. The difference here, however, is that there have been multiple allegations run against real life people that have been proven false, either by omission of data or by the person themselves admitting it. In fact, one of the most extreme cases of this that I've seen in online spaces was the entire Kwite situation. He was able to disprove the claims thoroughly, but he had to reveal a lot of personal information in the meantime.

The point of all this is just to say that I don't think ex-ATL fans are going to come back, just because regardless of what ATL does, there's always some amount of deniability (they had better lawyers, she didn't have enough evidence, etc etc etc). I think they're right for going for the court case, but I wish more people saw it as a reason they could be innocent (pretty ballsy to argue a case that might not go in your favor) rather than a reason that they *must* be guilty. yknow?

Overall we very much agree but I want to harp on one thing. For every ATL or Kwite there are many, many, many more Depps and Mansons and historically those dudes win. The entire point of the hard lean into a blanket phrase like Believe Survivors is because of the way abusers have been let off since forever. I stay devastated that my band got caught up in the midst of this pendulum swing!!! But before we can throw around that there are copious amounts of false claims because a few can be named, it does us no good to forget that false claims remain extremely rare and baddies use these exact type of suits all the time hence why they automatically scream bad optics. As far as the social media of it all…people, especially young people, are so concerned with their brand that they live in fear of being on the wrong side of anything but it’s easy to shrug it off if you’re pitchforking in the wrong direction. It all comes back to nuance and critical thinking and bad faith arguments and that most people don’t actually care enough to be thoughtful. And while I agree I don’t expect ex fans to come back no matter what happens, we’ve now seen ATL get read for something as dumb as a fucking hospital bracelet merch item, so the haters stay watching and waiting to pounce on anything to add to a contextless pile of disingenuous got’chas.

[hotmessmaxpress]

Mig/Bezz fake dating au, part 1

Celestino’s new girlfriend is a smokeshow. She’s absolutely far too sexy to be dating Celestino, but she’s clearly smitten with him. She laughs at all of his jokes, even the stupid ones that make Bezz cringe. They look at each other with stars in their eyes, and Cele talks to her like she’s a princess. 

It makes Bezz sick. 

He knows that Cele has never claimed to be anything but straight. Bezz genuinely has no reason to believe that Cele could be gay, or bisexual, or that he would be into him if he were gay. He can’t help but be jealous, though. He and Cele have been friends for so long, and they are on the same page on everything. Bezz knows that he knows Celestino better than his girlfriend, and he always will. They’d be so good together. 

He isn’t sure what sparks the idea of trying to make Cele jealous, but once it’s in his head he can’t stop thinking about it. He thinks about it basically every time he sees Cele with his girlfriend, and he grits his teeth and thinks about what it would be like to have Cele look at him like that. If Cele just gave him a chance, they could be so happy. 

The more he thinks about it the more a plan starts to form, and he begins thinking about who he could use to make Cele jealous. It would have to be someone that could make it believable; Bezz considers trying to find a stranger, but he knows he would feel too awkward to make the romance believable. Besides, the idea of using a stranger for something like this doesn’t sit right with him. It needs to be a friend; someone Bezz knows won’t catch feelings but who would feel comfortable pretending to have feelings for him. 

Mig.

He texts him abruptly. 

Mig’s agreement sends a thrill through Bezz. He knows that, despite Mig’s hesitations, he’ll make it believable. 

Bezz invites Mig over to plan.

When Mig arrives, Bezz has to focus on staying calm. He’s just so excited at the idea of making Cele finally fall in love with him. 

“Thank you for your service,” he says seriously, taking Mig’s hand as he comes in. 

Mig looks incredulous. 

“This is going to blow up in your face,” he warns. 

Bezz huffs. “I know that you think that. But what if it doesn’t and he falls in love with me?”

Mig snorts. “Then I will officiate your wedding.”

Bezz thinks he’s kidding but he doesn’t care. 

“Deal,” he says, seriously. “Now, we need to talk about the rules. We have to make it look real, or he’ll know what I’m trying to do and it won’t work.”

He drags Mig to the couch by his hand, and he sits right up next to him. 

“We already spend a lot of time together,” he says. “We talk all the time. It won’t be hard to make it look like we’re really dating.”

Mig looks expectantly at him. 

“We just need to talk about, um,” Bezz hesitates. “How far you’re willing to go.”

Migno gives him a flat look. “Are you asking me to put out?”

“No!” Bezz denies, spluttering as Mig finally breaks and laughs raucously at him. 

Bezz flushes, elbowing Mig. 

“No, I mean are you willing to kiss me? I know the point is to make Cele jealous but I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

Mig looks at him, grinning, and then launches himself at Bezz. He plants a kiss on Bezz’s mouth, and Bezz squeaks in surprise. Mig pulls away, still grinning. 

“If I’m going to do this I’m going all in, baby,” he promises. 

Bezz wonders for a moment what he has decided to get himself into. 

Their first test of their fake relationship is a fairly easy task. It’s a regular day at the ranch, where they’ll spend most of the time riding anyway. Bezz finds himself nervous, though. He and Mig meet up and drive together, and Bezz is thankful that the bumpy road toward the ranch distracts him from some of his nerves. 

“Don’t be nervous,” Mig says, reaching over to squeeze his leg. “It’s just a regular training day. Maybe you hold my hand for a bit. Maybe I grab your ass.”

Bezz snorts. 

“Other than that, it’s a totally normal day.”

Bezz nods, taking a deep breath as he parks the car. He tries not to focus too hard on acting natural, knowing that will probably have the opposite effect. He knows he’s overthinking things, but he can’t help it. He is nervous to see what Cele’s reaction is. He takes their things out of the trunk, and he squeaks as Mig squeezes his ass. 

He nearly bashes his head on the trunk as he whirls around, but there’s no one around. 

“You need to calm down,” Mig asks. “Is that how you would react if we were really dating?”

Bezz huffs. “You wouldn’t do that if we were dating!”

Mig laughs. 

“Yes I would! That’s why you need to relax. It’s going to be fine! Otherwise you’ll need to break up with me and it will be messy.”

Bezz finishes hauling their things from the trunk with a groan, giving Mig a severe look. Mig seems to feel a little glee at Bezz’s anguish and Bezz can’t help but stick his tongue out childishly. 

“You asked for this,” Mig reminds him unhelpfully.

Mig continues to bother him as they carry their things into the changing room at the ranch, and Bezz finds himself relaxing. It’s normal to act this way with Mig. 

Despite that, Bezz has to admit that he does a better job of pretending they’re dating than Bezz does. He doesn’t go overboard; he sticks close to Bezz’s side, and their normal banter takes on a flirty edge. He’s just a little touchier than normal, pressing their helmets together or taking his hand for a moment. When they’re all finished and showered and hanging around talking, Mig drags their chairs next to each other. 

He leans over to whisper in Bezz’s ear. 

“Put your arm across the back of my chair.”

Bezz’s brain short-circuits for a moment before he follows Mig’s directions. 

Mig leans back against his arm, otherwise not calling attention to it. Still, Bezz sees Cele look curiously at their position, and Bezz takes it as a small victory. He lifts his hand to the back of Mig’s neck, and plays with the hair there. 

He hears Mig stutter in his conversation with Luca, but otherwise the action is totally normal. Bezz finds that the repetitive motion has a calming effect on him. 

It doesn’t occur to Bezz that others will think anything of their behavior until he locks eyes with Pecco, who looks pointedly at where his hand is wrapped in Mig’s hair, and he raises an eyebrow. Bezz can feel his face heat up, but he smiles and shrugs. Mig seems to notice, and he reaches over to squeeze Bezz’s leg.

Pecco doesn’t seem overly shocked, a fact that Bezz files away for later. He had thought they’d at least get some sort of reaction, and the longer they go on with very little fanfare the more he relaxes. Mig was right, and it’s not actually that different than they normally are. 

By the time they’re ready to leave, Bezz is happily holding Mig’s hand. They’re laughing and joking as usual, and it’s comfortable and normal.

His eyes keep flickering to Celestino, but he unfortunately hasn’t been able to catch his eye. He’s a little disappointed that Cele hasn’t really reacted, and he wonders if he should step up the public affection next time. He asks Mig when they get in the car.

“We have to do it slowly,” Mig answers. “We can’t go from holding hands to humping each other, Bezz.”

Bezz guffaws. 

“I don’t want to hump you! I was thinking maybe we kiss.”

Mig shrugs.

“Okay. Next time we are with Celestino.”

The next time they are out together as a “couple”, Celestino is not present. They are meeting Pecco and Domizia for dinner, and Bezz is surprised when Mig takes his hand. 

“Unless you want to tell them we’re not really dating, we need to keep up the act,” Mig points out. 

“Oh,” Bezz says. He hadn’t thought of that. 

Mig holds the door open for him, and Bezz smiles and thanks him. 

Pecco and Domi are easy to find, and Bezz is delighted to see her. He kisses both of her cheeks and steps out of the way for Mig to do the same. He glances over to see Pecco watching them carefully, and as he sits down he knows his face is red. 

“So,” Domizia says, pointing her finger at Bezz and Mig, and looking at both of them in turn. “What is all this?”

Bezz grins sheepishly and shrugs. “It’s new,” he says.

“No it’s not,” Pecco says, and Bezz looks at him in confusion. 

“Come on,” Pecco says, rolling his eyes. “This is the least shocking relationship development I’ve ever seen. You two have basically been married for years.”

Bezz stares at him, brain fully shutting down and waiting on a reboot. 

“No we haven’t,” Mig protests.

“You basically have,” Domizia says, taking a sip of her wine. “You always drive everywhere together. Bezz is always falling asleep on you. You are always out together.”’

Bezz opens his mouth to argue that he’s far more married to Celestino, which is the problem, but his brain finally turns back on and he remembers that the goal is to make people believe they’re dating, not to argue about it. He forces a smile. 

“It really isn’t that much of a change, is it?” 

He makes eye contact with Mig, who seems a little shell-shocked by the casual manner with which Domizia dropped that bomb. 

The rest of the dinner goes well, and Bezz is smiling when they get back in the car. Bezz drives, as always, and he reaches over to rest a hand on Mig’s thigh. 

Neither of them brings up the comments Domi and Pecco made about this not being a surprise, and Bezz wonders if he’s imagining the awkward air between them. He specifically chose Mig for this task because he thought it would be the least awkward. 

Bezz wants to break the silence but he doesn’t know what to say. Instead, he takes his hand off Mig’s leg and drives the rest of the way home in silence.

[hotwings0203]

Idk what this is but the thought of you being scared of Bakugos quirk is so hot to me

Tw:noncon, predatory behavior

“I swear he’s getting to be more and more like a villain every time I see him,” you giggle with Mina as you two walk out of the class. Bakugo had yet again exploded at one of your shared teachers for correcting him in his pronunciation of a word, and as usual it was quite a scene to behold. Chairs were almost thrown, his friends had to hold him back from leaping up while others egged him on, itching for amusement in their mind-numbingly dull class.

“Maybe Shigaraki was right,” your pink-haired friend snorts and you both collapse in wheezes, clawing and slapping at each other’s shoulders as the ludicrous image of Shigaraki being unable to reign in Bakugo comes to mind.

“Hey ladies, what’re you two laughing about?” A lilting and charming voice comes right at your ear, and you turn to see Denki, Kirishima and…Bakugo walking next to you.

Just because of his proximity and how you were literally just talking about him two seconds ago, you jump away from Bakugo’s glowering face and not so subtly hide behind Mina in a half playful jest.

“Huh? Whatcha ya jumpin’ around for?” Kirishima laughs and you exchange an embarrassed look with Mina.

“Oh nothing, we were just talking about how Bakugo’s quirk is totally villainous. We’re lucky he’s on our side,” Mina singsongs, but you slap her arm in alarm.

And well placed alarm at that, because Bakugo’s scowl deepens as he turns his head to you in a death-glare. You swallow hard seeing his expression and try to nervously laugh.

“But, uh, we were just joking. Right Mina?” You give her a pointed look and she deflects it happily.

“Nope! At least you weren’t, you’re half scared to death of him, isn’t that right Y/N?”

Denki interrupts before you can sputter in horror.

“Honestly, who isn’t scared of this dude?” He claps the other blond on his back and yelps when Bakugo’s hands start curling with smoke.

“Watch it dumbass.” He cranes his head to meet your eyes, but when he finds that you’re still avoiding eye contact with him he starts moving around his friends to better talk to you.

“My quirk isn’t that scary you idiot. It’s not like I care enough about any of you to blow you up-“

But with the smoke still curling form his hands and with the permanently intimidating scowl on his face reading closer and close to your, you can’t help but squeal and scrabble around him to sink your nails into Kirishima’s shoulders for protection.

“Okay, I get it! You don’t have to come any closer, I can see fine from here.” Your voice comes out too high and strained to be deemed as joking, but nonetheless everyone laughs at your dramatic show.

Everyone but Katsuki. Because he can see you’re actually scared, he’s seen it a hundred times on civilians who try to pretend they’re fine but still have that panicked glint in their eye.

“Jesus Y/N, with a reaction like that maybe he really is a villain. Bakubro, want us to send you back to Shigaraki’s place? Maybe you should reconsider his offer.”

And finally at Denki’s quip everyone including you this time laughs again in playful agreement, but yet again Bakugo’s blood starts simmering further.

Why the fuck were you being so obnoxious? He didn’t do anything to you before, right? So why the hell were you embarrassing him in front of all his friends and making him out to be this bloodthirsty monster?

Well, whatever. If a monster is what you want, then a monster is what you’ll get.

And so he waits for you after school, trailing behind you a couple hundred feet yet still keeping you in sight. He curses when you giggle with your friends, no doubt in his mind that you’re still throwing dirt on his name and he swears under his breath when you talk to Deku and his dweeb friends.

Of course when you hang around ditzy dorks like Deku he’s gonna look like a psycho in comparison.

But at one point you’re by the vending machine alone in a deserted hallway, fumbling with your coins and trying to quickly get a soda before your friends up ahead leave.

Too bad for you, because when he’s done with you they’ll never want to be seen with you again for their own safety.

You’re shoving money in the slot when he silently walks up a couple feet behind you.

“No friends around to gossip about me?”

You shriek and jump a good foot in the air at the sudden voice behind you. Clutching your heaving chest, you whirl around to see who it is.

Your blood runs cold. It’s Katsuki Bakugo, the absolute last person you want to be alone with in a deserted hallway.

Your feet move a step back.

Wrong move.

His nostrils flare and his eyes widen at your insulting retreat. You know he doesn’t take kindly to it, but with an expression like that how could you not?

“Uh, w-what do you mean?” You chuckle nervously.

He doesn’t laugh. In fact, he does something worse.

He matches your steps and moves forward a little bit.

At this you fully take a stride backwards and clash with the vending machine behind you.

He keeps advancing, slowly getting closer and checking you out, his head tilted as his eyes roam up and down your vulnerable body.

“Don’t move back. Why the fuck did you move away from me? That’s rude, we were just having a normal conversation.”

You surprise yourself by sounding level-headed in retaliation. “‘Kinda hard not to be a little uncomfortable when your conversation sounds so accusing.”

He lunges forward and you actually scream this time, throwing your hands up above your head in instinct to protect yourself from his proximity.

Bakugo doesn’t touch you but you can still feel his breath puffing on your head, can still feel the heat from his hands on either side of your body.

“You got a smart mouth don’t you? Is that why you embarrassed me earlier in front of everyone?”

“Embarrassed you-?” You squeak but immediately cut off when he thrusts his face right in front of yours, a manic look on his face as all his facial features stretch into a irate leer.

“I guess we’ll have to fix that tongue of yours. Put it to better use than to talk shit about me, right?”

Vermilion irises move from your face down your body, lingering on your chest and at the apex in between your legs.

Bile rises to your throat as he licks his lips and lets his lips ghost over yours, oh so close yet not touching.

And in the second before he descends, you shove him off with nothing but pure adrenaline feeling your fear and race past him, blindly running down the halls as fast as you can.

Surprisingly, you don’t hear anyone behind you. That doesn’t mean you don’t stop running though.

The real reason you don’t hear anyone behind you is because Katsuki Bakugo has an eerie smile on his face at your bolt. He languidly stretches his arms above his head and relishes in the popping of his joints, and in succession the popping of sparks in his hand. He kicks one leg out, then the other just to ensure you get a fair head start.

You’ve just made this so much more interesting.

He sets off at a light jog, and even in his carefree pace his strides are enough to eventually catch up with you, instinct like an animal’s guiding him through the winding halls and ending up catching a glimpse of your feet as you turn into another lane.

You’re panting, sweat pouring down your eyes as panic makes it hard to breathe or think rationally. The adrenaline that was pushing you is now dying down but at the worst time.

You take a quick glance back and your rapidly beating heart falters as you see him with a grin on his face as he practically jogs leisurely behind you. You’ve seen this same face on him when he’s in the battlefield, blasting through enemy hearts and blowing up heads as if they were fireworks.

He’s bloodthirsty. He wants you.

“Running away again? That’s not very heroic of you babe,” he calls out, and it’s terrifyingly infuriating how he’s not out of breath.

“Leave me the fuck alone,” you half scream and sob, trying to run faster but failing miserably.

You see a bathroom sign out of the corner of your eye and frantically stumble towards it.

Katsuki knows you know he’s even you take a turn and he laughs to himself at how boringly easy this is.

Maybe he was scary.

He shakes it off and continues his hunt after you, coming forth until he faces the bathroom door in which you were cowering behind.

There’s a small window, and no other door. Just a couple of stalls, a terrified girl, and a psycho with the taste of revenge practically palpable on his lustful tongue.

He knock with faux politeness. “You wanna come out and do this the easy way or you want me to barge in and take you myself?”

You sob and wheeze in response, desperately pushing against the flimsy door in a pathetic attempt to keep him out. Bakugo merely crosses his arms and leans against the door, staring intently at it with a smile still on his face.

Judging by the weight pushing more at the bottom of the door, he can tell you’re probably sitting down in an effort to catch your breath.

You both know he can come in at any time he so well pleases, but he decides he’ll play by your rules for a bit longer, indulge you a little before your inevitable downfall.

He hums loudly and slides down to join your parallel position on the floor.

“I’m tryina be nice here, y’know. You acted so scared of me when I never even bothered you before. Aren’t I being nice right now by letting you choose for yourself?”

He sounds so conversational, as if he were talking to one of his buddies. You stay silent but your silence speaks volumes.

It serves as nothing but a means to piss him off further.

The two of you sit in silence for seemingly hours, even though it’s only around 20 minutes. Every second you feel like he’s going to break down the door any second and blast your face off, but miraculously he doesn’t.

You don’t know what you’d rather prefer: for him to prolong your strained agony by letting you be so close yet so far from him, or to end your suffering and get it done with.

But you needn’t sit in silence stewing in your own fear any further, for at the exact moment you begin to doze off with the dying of the light the weight on the other side of the door lifts and you startle awake at the scuffling on the other side.

You blink a couple of times and blanch when you see through the window the purple light indicating that you really have been here longer than you thought.

Bakugo cracks his knuckles and rolls his head, popping a few more kinks in his neck before breathing out and bracing for impact.

“Ready or not little bitch, here I come.”

“Bakugo, wait-!”

But your plea doesn’t last for more than two words. The door bangs open with such a sound that you actually think he’s blasted it straight off his hinges. You gasp and shield yourself, jumping backwards and covering your face.

“‘Thought I made it clear by now that you can’t run. So why’d you try to leave? Huh? Think you’re smarter than me? You think you’re stronger than me?”

He’s stalking forward again, and you’re left tripping back over your feet and whimpering at his salacious intent as he backs you up and corners you into a stall.

He already knows the answers to his rhetorical questions but he wants to hear you say it. He wants to hear that scornful conviction in your voice about how big and bad he was that you used earlier.

With you tripping backwards into the cramped stall, his approach quickens in hunger at feeling you, feeling the fear radiating off your body.

Bakugo presses up against you against the wall and takes up the space around you, invading your personal bubble. He’s everywhere, growling in your ear, hands gripping your waist so tight you’re sure bruises sprout from his touch, his erect penis grinding on the inside of your thigh.

Your trepidation and terror rises to an insurmountable height as he smothers you.

When he suddenly grips your chin and forces your head to face him you gasp. His touch is even more callous than you thought.

“You lookin’ here bitch? Good.”

His palm is raised towards you and before you can even widen your eyes in realization his appendage starts sparking madly. You shriek and try to throw him loose as little bits of embers fly out and made your face, his voice rough as always yet dangerously low and soft.

“S’not so scary after all is it? You’re reacting better to it than I thought.” Bakugo Blanca you mocks your writhing figure as you desperately try to evade the mini explosions.

“Okay, I get it, please stop I don’t like it!” You shrilly cry out but his hand moves from your jaw down to your neck, and squeezes the last remnants of opposition out of you.

“Yeah? Good, I’m glad you get it. But honestly, I don’t care if you don’t like it.

Because I like it. I fucking love this quirk, ‘specially when you cower so prettily under it like you did earlier.”

You choke and try to scrabble at his hands but it’s like a butterfly’s touch to him, barely producing any fruition.

“I kept wondering to myself: why do I care if she’s scared of it? And then I realized,” he leans in and lets his lips brush over your ear, lets his hand lessen ever so slightly so that your main focus is his words.

“You just looked good enough to eat when you know you’re beneath me. When you know how dangerous I am.”

He pulls back and assesses the look on your face. “Makes you look good enough to eat.”

And without further ado he lowers his hand and starts rubbing his alit palm on your clothed pussy, his erection getting harder as your screams wilt into whines.

Your legs flail uselessly as he burns a hole through your pants and his fingers hook aside the band of your panties.

Bakugo thrusts his hips forwards and grinds his straining cock on your moist lips, taking in your blubbers and teary eyes.

You can’t even speak, you can only cry out like a child as he thrusts harder and harder, so hard that your back hits the wall painful and the stall walls rattle behind you.

“You-pant-fucking scared-pant-now slut?” He rasps, his head bobbing on rhythm with yours as he practically lifts you off your toes to match his pace.

Your clit is caught between the fabric and rolled cruelly pleasurable as his tip leaks precum, staining your own panties in the process.

With your attention rapt on his now-uncovered dick sliding in and out of your folds, he takes this opportunity to take his other hand off your neck and blast the wall next to your face.

The second you open your mouth in shock as bits of tile rain down on your face he slams his steaming palm over your lips, burning the soft flesh as you weep openly.

He sets off two more near your sides and another above your head, his own face aligned right in front of yours so you can see the mean smile on his face all the while he sets your heart racing at an alarming speed.

When the smoke clears and you can start feeling glass and tile imprint on your once-smooth face, he positions his dick up so that it prods at your hole and yanks your hair back.

His eyes practically glow with the mini fires preserved in the walls with his blasts, the impact of the air rushing around him makes his hair even spikier, his body is taunt and even more imposing than before.

His teeth gleam with the orange and red light next to you. His chest doesn’t heave, because he’s at ease with your terror.

“You think you know fear?”

With one swift movement he shoves up into you, but this time he doesn’t cover your mouth.

“You haven’t met me truly yet.”

[hargrove-mayfields]

Back when things were still easy, Billy and Max used to have sibling days on the weekends when Neil wouldn’t be home, setting aside their issues to have just one day that was meant for doing something fun together.

The tradition had been dropped after the move to Hawkins, and Max thinks that’s where a lot of the strain on their relationship comes from. Without those designated times to let go of some of the tension building between them, they fall to pieces.

There’s one day in particular where it’s just Max at home all by herself, her mother and Neil having gone on a trip to the city she opted out of, when Billy shows up much earlier than he said he would be back, ruining the calm when he slammed the front door so hard a picture frame fell off the wall.

Neither of them say a word to the other, all she gets is an apologetic and glossy looking glance for the noise as he storms past her like she isn’t even there.

She doesn’t see Billy again for a long time after that, just hears the angry music blaring in his room. By now, she’s wisened up enough to know that meant he was probably crying in there, and though she doesn’t know what happened, she feels bad.

It’d been far too long since they acted anything like real siblings, not that they were actually related, but they used to be just as close, so after her brother’s been brooding for literal hours, she knows she wants to do something.

Her opportunity to bring it up comes when Billy makes his grand appearance at her door, stopping by to ask if she ate dinner just so he, quote ‘wouldn’t get any shit for it.’ She nods in agreement and asks, “Do you know what day it is, Billy?”

He shrugs, “28th of June.”

“Well, doy, but it’s also Friday.” Billy raises an eyebrow, missing the point, and Max rolls her eyes. “Friday. You know, like, the one day we get to hang out.”

Too cool for that stuff anymore apparently, he scoffs and leans against the doorframe, and she just knows he’s going to say something snarky, so she turns the puppy dog eyes up a notch, “Please? It’ll be fun.”

It works, Billy sighs way over dramatic and steps into her room, throwing himself down onto her beanbag chair. She can’t contain the smile on her face when he asks with fake defeat, “What did you want, shitbird?”

“I want a makeover day. Like we used to do.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Why?” She crosses her arms, “Just because that’s what I want to do?”

He fixes her with a look that says ‘seriously?’, and explains, an edge of frustration to his voice, “No, because you know what’ll happen if I’m struttin’ around in nail polish and shit when Neil gets back.”

“They’re not supposed to come back until like, Monday though,” in response to her excuses, he mimics her in crossing his arms over his chest, so she tries harder to reason with him, “And we can always just take it off when we’re done.”

“That’s just a waste of your stuff, then.”

“Come on, Billy, please?” she’s out of actual arguments and he’s winning, so she brings out the big guns, the little sister privilege, the one surefire way she knows will always knock her brother off guard, “I miss you.”

He squints at her, seeing through the attempted guilt trip, but he can’t muster a frown, and he must know it wasn’t all fake, because he says, “Whatever.”

She knows that’s his version of a yes and he’s just too proud to admit he caved, so she squeals and claps her hands together, taking off like a shot to dig under her bed for the stowed away beauty kit. It’s a little wicker basket filled to the brim with nail polish and makeup, the same one they’d used years ago before everything went wrong, and it makes her happy, bringing the old thing back out.

She stops to put a record in her player, choosing Queen as the closest thing to a middle ground between their respective music tastes, they at least both weren’t supposed to listen to it, and drops down into the other chair beside Billy.

On the latch-hook rug in front of them, she starts to empty the basket, lining up all her brightly colored bottles of nail polish, slightly dried out after months of not using them. “What color?”

“Why do I have to go first?” Billy asks. All Max has to say in response is a know-it-all “Because I said so.”

“Fine. You pick.” The moment he says it he looks like he regrets it, Max is notoriously bad at making decisions, but she ignores him and starts holding up bottles anyways.

First, after few minutes deliberation, she chooses a pretty dark green, and he scrunches his nose and doesn’t say anything. She picks a purplish color, which he tosses away on the bed, a very firm ‘no’ that makes Max giggle. Then she gives him a bright orange bottle, and he holds in front of his face, studying it before turning that one down too.

“God, if I knew you’d be so annoying I would’ve just painted them all the colors.” She remarks, lining up her polishes so she could do just that.

“That’s actually probably not a very good idea, kiddo.” Looking a little panicked, he digs through the bottles himself, settling on one he pulls away and stares at for a second before handing it to her and telling her, “Just do ‘em red.”

It confuses her, but she agrees regardless, and makes him turn in his seat so he’s facing her and his hands are flat on the floor. His hands are a little shaky, so her paint job isn’t the best, she even drips some on the carpet, which she hopes her mother won’t notice, but Billy doesn’t say anything about the mess.

With his nails done she moves onto his hair, she wants to do double braids like how he taught her to do in her own hair, so she shoves his arm to get him to turn around. “Scoot.”

He lets her push him around until he’s in the right place that she can reach his hair, but once he’s facing the far wall he tells her, “Don’t you dare use that brush on my hair, Maxine.”

“Jeez, relax. I’m not gonna mess up your princess curls.” She mocked, but she still went for the comb to run through his hair instead.

She waited until she could get it through without catching on any tangles before bothering trying to talk to him. When Billy was upset, he tended to clam up, but she didn’t particularly like feeling awkward in the silence, leaving all the talking to the record player. “Can we talk about why you were mad earlier?”

“Nope.”

“Would you tell me if I told you about my day?” She tries, but he shuts it down again with an “Unlikely.”

“I’ll tell you anyways.” Max didn’t know what had happened with Billy, but she knew she hadn’t had the greatest morning herself either. “I had to ask Lucas to bring me home early because me and Mike got in a fight.”

Billy snorted, and spoke with just as much sarcasm as Max had used on him. She learned that from him anyways. “You and Mike? No.”

“Yeah. He was being a total ass about El, trying to like, own her or something, so I told him to lay off ‘cause that’s totally not fair.”

She knew that Billy, having graduated and turned 18 now, was probably getting a little old for this type of drama, but he was a good listener, no matter how much he pretended not to care, always giving little bits of insight and saying things to make her laugh.

She continues, “Well, anyways he like, totally bit my head off for sticking up for her, so then I told him he was just a miserable mouth breather who’s jealous of El being happy, and he tried to kick me out.”

Billy laughed at that, muttering a little ‘ow’ when the action made Max pull his hair, “But you left before he could kick you out right?”

“Duh.” She sighs a little, the fun part of the story over. “Then when we pulled up outside, Lucas said something stupid about it being my fault or whatever, so I dumped him again.”

“Good. I told you not to take any shit from them anymore.” Billy had been less than happy with her friends a lot recently, when she’d come home from school or from hanging out upset over something they said. They never meant to hurt her feelings, but Billy didn’t like it all the same, and made her promise she’d stand up for herself a little more. Like she did to him.

“Yeah, I guess.” It makes her feel light on the inside, to know Billy was proud of her for following his advice, in his own way at least. “So? What happened to you?”

He shrugs again, and blows her off, “It’s nothing.”

“You were crying.”

“Yeah, and it’s none of your business.”

“Maybe not,” she fumbles with the braid and loses it, Billy’s stupid uneven mullet making it way too hard to braid so many different lengths of hair, “But I’m like, an expert now. El says she likes my advice.”

Under his breath, Billy mutters, “‘Course she does.”

Max purses her lips and pretends she didn’t hear that before continuing her offer, “Anyways, I can always try to help.”

“Listen, it’s just stupid dating stuff. Nothin’ you need to be worrying about.”

“But I’m a girl. I can give advice about that.” She thinks about it for a second, “I mean, I know more about being a girlfriend than having one, but it’s probably about the same.”

“Maybe.” Billy mumbles, focusing all his attention on picking at the nail polish that had missed the edges of his nails, and just from the way he tensed up she can tell she’d overstepped Billy’s boundaries in some way or another.

She finishes of the braid she had already started over twice now and puts a blue scrunchie on the end of it, giving him a minute.

When she starts combing out the rest of his hair is when Billy speaks again, not a drop of his distinctly Billy attitude in his words as he admitted softly, “You know, shitbird, I never said anything ‘bout having a girlfriend.”

That’s confusing to her at first, because he had just told her it was a dating thing, but Max’d been hearing all the nasty things Neil said about Billy for years now, and while she might just be a kid, might be the clueless and annoying little sister, she still knew the weight of what he’d just admitted to her.

It had always made her sad, to know Neil didn’t really like Billy, all the mean words he used, ones she wouldn’t dare repeat, to describe Billy and his friends, all the lies he told about him behind his back. But she doesn’t buy it, what her asshole step-dad had to say.

Her brother was cool, and she liked hanging out with him, when he wasn’t being such a jerk. The fact that he had a boyfriend instead of a girlfriend didn’t change that in the least bit.

She hums, trying to gather words and, her voice strained against the outburst of happiness, says “See? I can totally help with boy stuff.”

[early2000smovieimagines]

Meeting and Dating Ahkmenrah

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(This movie was my childhood. Brings back so many good memories ...and crushes.)

- You’d worked at quite a few museums in your day but none of them were quite like the Museum of Natural History; a fact you’d be made aware of very suddenly and without warning.

- You were somewhat new to the building, hired to do work on the exhibits since you were skilled in restoration and design. You weren’t a night worker, at least you weren’t supposed to be, but you’d accidentally dropped something as you were leaving your office and were forced to stay late to clean it up.

- After a few moments of sweeping, you’d heard a commotion upstairs and as you went to leave the museum; and investigate, you’d walked straight into the beautiful chaos of a night at the museum.

- Let’s just say that Larry had a lot to explain, all of which you took surprisingly well; though you didn’t have much of a choice now did you?

- Ahkmenrah spotted you from across the museum and watched as you made your way around the new magical world, staring at every person and thing in awe. He spied on you throughout the night and found that when he’d finally thought it appropriate to approach you, the sun was already beginning to rise.

- So the next day, he asks Larry about you, pretending as though he’s asking for no reason at all. Larry knowingly offers to introduce the two of you and the mummy drops the act, eagerly accepting.

“I’d like that very much, yes.”

- Larry approaches you with the sparkling pharaoh and is soon called away by someone else, leaving the two of you alone to speak. Ahkmenrah motions over to a bench nearby, commenting that it “must be a lot to get used to” as you both take a seat. You laugh in agreement and before you know it, the two of you are engaged in a conversation.

- Ahkmenrah’s sweet, he’s charming, he’s handsome, and he’s quite enamored with you; though you don’t know that just yet.

- Soon enough, it’s time for the sun to rise and he takes notice, begrudgingly standing and admitting that he “must say goodbye”. You respond with a somewhat disappointed goodbye yourself, watching as he begins to walk away before he turns and says “I should like to see you tomorrow ...to continue our conversation” to which you happily agree.

- The two of you become close fairly quickly. Anytime he spots you in a room, he makes a beeline towards you; both because he really likes you and because he’s somewhat awkward himself.

- He always likes being there for you, considering you’re new and not used to all that history coming to life stuff. He takes pride in being your guide and sort of likes the feeling of you depending on him a bit.

- Your “friendship” takes an obvious romantic turn, particularly; and outwardly, on his side; I say “friendship” because it was probably somewhat obvious from that he liked you more than that even from the beginning.

- He compliments you, oftentimes earnestly and quietly calling you beautiful, uses any excuse to touch you and your clothes, etc. He awes you with talks of Egypt and sweeps you off your feet quite easily. It’s really only a matter of time before the two of you get together.

- That “time” comes one day as you’re both sitting all alone. The room is dark and warmly lit and you’re sitting so close that his knees are touching yours. His hands hold yours as he speaks quietly to you and your face is leaned in close so that you can hear him.

- And then it just happens, your faces close in and you kiss, his grasp tightening around your hands.

- You’re interrupted by one of the others, most likely Larry who quickly apologizes and mentions something about the sun coming up before leaving the two of you be. Ahkmenrah turns back to you, saying something along the lines of “so we must once again say goodbye” with a small smile.

“It would appear so.” You respond, though you’re hesitant to move from your place. But alas, the sun has to rise and you have to go home.

“Tomorrow then,” He smiles at you, giving your hand one last squeeze. “...My queen.”

- You leave that morning, eager for the daylight to go and for you to be reunited with your newfound lover once more.

- Ahkmenrahs from ancient Egypt so I’m sure he isn’t particularly accustomed to “normal” Pda. That being said, he is somewhat dorky and practically has an entire hall to himself so he either just gives you innocent pda or the two of you go to his exhibit; and not have to worry about anyone seeing you.

- He’s been locked up in a sarcophagus for about fifty years; or more, so he’s arguably a bit touch starved. He’s always trying to touch you in some way and absolutely loves it whenever you touch him.

- He likes holding both your hands in his, occasionally bringing one of them to his lips. He just likes touching your hands in general if we’re being honest.

- Gentle caresses. He’s in love, leave him alone.

- Forehead and cheek kisses. He likes prolonging the amount of time his lips spend on your skin; a normal prolonged amount of time of course.

- Long, soft kisses.

- Loving makeout sessions. His hands roam your back and pull you in as close as they can whenever you have one.

- He likes laying between your legs and/or resting his head in your lap.

- Cuddling with your arms wrapped around each other and your head resting against his shoulder. He likes laying and talking with you, playing with the fingers that lay on his chest.

- Having his robes draped over and around you.

- He likes having you with him at all times, both because he’s protective of you and because he can’t bear to be away from you for more than a few hours.

- You’ll usually hang back and cling to his arm whenever you’re standing together. He likes feeling your presence at his side and the light grip you have on him.

- A bit clingy. He only gets to see you at night and has been alone for quite some time, of course he’s gonna want to be around you as much as possible.

- He always gets somewhat flustered when you give him gifts; particularly sweet things like flowers. You would have sworn you’d given him your underwear with the way he smiles and blushes in response.

- Ahkmenrah was the favorite son so he was a bit spoiled as a child. That being said, he’s surprisingly humble and sweet for a pharaoh that was given the best of everything.

- He’s probably teared up a little because of you at some point, whether it be your actions or just the fact that you’re there with him. He can get a bit emotional at times.

- Dancing together. We all saw how beautifully that man can move.

- Sneaking him out every once in a while. He really likes your apartment; even if you’re sort of embarrassed because he’s a literal pharaoh and lived in a temple when he was alive.

- Movie dates. They’re the easiest thing to do with him and he’s missed out on pretty much all of them so he’s got a lot of catching up to do.

- Listening to music together.

- Considering his time at Cambridge and just the way he is, he may or may not wax poetic about or at you on occasion. He gets a little embarrassed when he realizes that he’s doing it but it’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard/seen.

- Compliments and lots of them; usually paired with a term of endearment.

- He uses a lot of pet names on you, usually somewhat old fashioned ones. My dear, my sun, my queen, etc.

- He’s the cutest when posing for photos. He tries to look all regal in the beginning but it quickly dissolves into the adorable dorkiness that you know so well.

- The boy is lovestruck. He could sit and watch you do nothing with this look of unwavering love on his face for hours. Need to do some work? Thats totally fine. He’ll just sit there and love you.

- Please let him braid your hair. There’s just something that’s so relaxing and sweet about it to him.

- He has a hard time saying no to you. You’re his queen after all, you should have everything you could ever dream of; and he’s just too sweet to deny nearly anyone.

- Polite and respectful, Ahkmenrah is a gentleman with incredibly good manners. You’ll never be disappointed in his behavior.

- Helping Larry and him take care of the museum and tablet.

- Teaching him about all he’s missed.

- Always having a translator. He certainly comes in handy when you’re traveling around the museum and run into some “hostile” exhibits.

- Getting quietly and excitedly told a bunch of stories. He’s always so adorably eager to tell you about his life; whether it be about Ancient Egypt or more present times.

- He wants to introduce you to his parents so badly; though he’s somewhat embarrassed by them. Maybe you’ll transfer to the London museum for a bit?

- Getting bragged about. He always makes you sound cooler than you really are, though in your case, that’s just how he sees you.

- Stopping him from making morbid comments; oftentimes at the wrong time, or just giving him a look. He’s got a sort of different view on what’s exactly an acceptable thing to say.

“Too dark?”

- Sharing looks and making comments to each other.

- He’s always so gentle and caring with you; especially when you’re hurt or upset. He prides himself on being by your side and taking care of you.

- He’s a fairly patient person; especially with you. I mean, he’s had to wait a lot more than a few years to be let out of his sarcophagus so one can assume that he’d be good at that sort of thing.

- He’s not a terribly jealous person. Arguably, if you choose to be in a difficult relationship with a mummy, then you obviously want that relationship, right? He’s loyal and he expects you to be as well; that’s how it was in his times.

- That being said: if someone shows interest in you then he’ll get a bit jealous; though he’ll save his real jealousy for when he gets to see how you respond to them and how they respond to him making it known that you’re together.

- The museum can certainly get a bit dangerous at times; and he can only be there for you when you’re there, so of course he’ll be protective of and worry about you. He looks out for you and tells you to be careful every time you’re saying goodbye.

- The two of you hardly ever fight or argue, you’re just compatible with each other; and you rarely have the time to do so anyway. Plus, your pharaoh doesn’t have a mean bone in his body and lives to please you, so why would he try to fight with you?

- If he’s somehow done something; which is highly unlikely, he’ll apologize the minute that he realizes he’s upset you or thinks that he has. He’ll give you space if you want or need it and welcomes you back with open arms when you’re ready.

- If you’ve upset him then he’ll do his best to give you the silent treatment and act professional with you; not quite cold but not loving like he usually is. He’ll do so until you apologize and he cracks, shyly accepting your apology and reverting back to his sweet self.

- Lots of I love yous. You’re his queen, what do you expect?

- Your relationship is certainly going to be a bit challenging, but the happiness and love you feel with each other is worth it.

[tanoraqui]

tanoraqui

Still thinking about an au in which for some reason WWX and the Wens are left to just live peacefully on the creepy death mountain - some detente wherein they don’t leave the mountain ever and in exchange no one tries to visit ever. Borders patrolled by corpses and sect disciples. So A-Yuan grows up raised kind of collectively but mostly by WWX and Wen Qing (the one most likely to tell WWX that he’s doing it wrong), and learns healing-focused spiritual cultivation AND demonic cultivation, and then at some point starts sneaking out to be the terrifying force of righteous kindness he was always going to be

tanoraqui

Righteous kindness but also, like, having picked up WWX’s cavalier confidence (or at least some of the ability to fake it) and Wen Qing’s general attitude of Do No Harm But Take No Shit

Like IMAGINE

tanoraqui

In this au, despite the strict border-by-mutual-agreement that’s the only reason somehow no ones tried to attack, LWJ sneaks in like one a year so he and WWX can make eyes at one another but not actually say anything ever, and Wen Qing and LXC are both EXHAUSTED bc both their dumb little brothers (WWX is a sibling by adoption now don’t @ me) mope for like a week after EVERY SINGLE TIME THIS HAPPENS, and it’s been /over ten years/.

tanoraqui

Meanwhile Jiang YanLi and JZX are FINE, and JYL somehow keeps up some sort of correspondence with WWX - or at least, he’s faithfully managed to send a birthday present for Jin Ling every single year, and every time, JYL makes her son write a thank-you note and bribes some series of people to get it smuggled back to Yiling

tanoraqui

...which means, honestly, that Jin Ling is probably wildly curious about his uncle the evil demonic cultivator kept trapped within the terrible ghost mountain by the forces of Good and Right, and WILL sneak out one day to try to visit. Optimally, obviously, at the same time Wen Yuan is sneaking out to see the non-mountain world

tanoraqui

The optimal plot is that Wen Yuan ropes Jin Ling into helping him set up WWX and LWJ, because he, too, is exasperated at this point, and Jin Ling ropes Wen Yuan into arranging like a parent trap reunion for the Jiang siblings, and obviously there are monsters and undead to complicate it all

tanoraqui

They kind of acquire Lan Jingyi somewhere, somehow. He’s having a blast

There is a 100% chance that the first Adult(TM) to find them is Wen Ning and they just kind of rope him into whatever the hell is going on at the time

...you know what, I think this is just a good au where JGY fucking died at some point

tanoraqui

Maybe someone threw him down the stairs again and he just broke his fucking neck. WWX is still vilified but between Jiang Cheng not really wanting to attack and Jiang (Jin?) Yanli being AGGRESSIVELY against it, and dragging JZX along with her, they’re left in peace.

tanoraqui

Oh man and Jin Ling has YOUNGER SIBLINGS in this...

Hey for u: Jiang Cheng/Wen Qing can accidentally happen while the Teens are trying to get everyone else to meet

Today at 8:42 AM

@professorsparklepants

I love this it's so goddamn wacky

tanoraqui

I just want teenager-based shenanigans ft. surprisingly competent teenagers and all the adults running around like chickens with their heads chopped off

professorsparklepants

Jingyi: why are you two more calm about this than the literal adults

Wen Yuan: have you met my dad?

tanoraqui

Also to be clear it is not at all hard to convince Wen Ning to join Team: Teenage Shenanigans, bc literally ANYONE in the Burial Mountain village would probably be down if you were like, “we’re engaged in a conspiracy to make Wei Wuxian fucking admit that he’s in love with that Lan guy who visits a couple times a year”

professorsparklepants

"This is my father, and this is his sugar daddy."

tanoraqui

I kinda wanna say he goes by “Wen Yuan” more often bc he’s 100% the baby of the entire remaining Wen clan there, but his adult name or w/e it’s called IS Wen Sizhui, because WWX asked LWJ if he had any suggestions and LWJ said this while maintaining eye contact

professorsparklepants

OH MY GOOOOOOD

tanoraqui

They meet LXC and he figures out what’s going on in like 4 minutes, despite the teens’ best attempts at obfuscation, and instead of calling anyone’s parents is like, “okay, I’m in”

professorsparklepants

#1 wingman...

tanoraqui

Jin Ling and Wen Yuan are definitely both traveling under false names, too? Wen Yuan obviously can’t admit to being a Wen and Jin Ling is making a privileged but slightly helicoptered teen’s rebellious bid for freedom

professorsparklepants

His dad is panicking at home and Yanli is like "boys need their freedom :)"

I saw a post forever ago about how Yanli would be the most hands off parent & Zixuan is an only child who would panic every time his kid fell down

tanoraqui

With a side order of “my mother is the only one who’ll say nice things about the Yiling Patriarch and she always looks sad when she does so I’m going to sneak into the Burial Mountain and either drag him out to see her or force my parents to come get me”

professorsparklepants

"I'm gonna beat up the Yiling Patriarch" "why" "he made my mom sad" "okay proceed"

tanoraqui

^ actual real conversation with WenYuan

professorsparklepants

A-Yuan then repeats the same thing to Wen Qing and she has the exact same answer, verbatim

tanoraqui

Side note: Wen Yuan has never been scared of the undead in his entire life, and probably this will lead to getting into severely life-threatening situations when he doesn’t have more backup than 2 other teenagers

professorsparklepants

Oh absolutely

professorsparklepants

He's so used to tuning out the sound of sentry corpses that one jumps on him and almost punches his lungs out

tanoraqui

Also what if he took WWX’s sword, so he looks like a proper normal cultivator - honestly, what if WWX gave him the sword when he turned 12, or whenever one customarily gives a child a sword in this world. He also has a flute stashed in his robe somewhere but he does know how to use both

tanoraqui

But also, while obviously it’s very important that this is the sword he inherited from his father, it’s never OCCURRED to him to, like, strongly associate it with WWX, in terms of “this would be a recognizable weapon”? Chenqing the flute, obviously, but WWX just left the sword on a shelf all the time

professorsparklepants

He's very good at fooling people into thinking he's a normal rogue cultivator until he busts out the flute

LOL YES

tanoraqui

So the first time someone looks at him and is like, “That is WWX’s sword” he achieves, like, “Who’s Morales? [NOT THAT DUMB]” levels of blank-brained

professorsparklepants

It like, doesn't even occur to him that this stick named whatever will be recognizable to people until it actually happens

"this is the Yiling Patriarch's sword!" "... I've never heard of him"

tanoraqui

“What sword?”

professorsparklepants

KDJAKSNJS

tanoraqui

“Oh, THIS sword? I...found it. In a stream.”

tanoraqui

Also...at some point...once the teens have admitted their identities to one another...and possibly gotten into a couple other increasingly public shenanigans...they run into a bunch of concerned people searching from the Jin or even Jiang sect - JC being there would be PERFECT - and Jin Ling is like, “aaahh, no, I don’t want to be dragged home... kidnap me.”

WY: what?

JL: pull out the flute, summon a couple corpses, shout that you’re the dread son of the Yiling Patriarch, and pretend to kidnap me

WY: ...yeah okay

AND THEN THEY DO THAT

professorsparklepants

The dumbass energy...... off the CHARTS

tanoraqui

They’re 15 and neither of them has ever faced consequences but in...actually not too different ways

They’re 15 and neither of them as ever faced consequences nor most of the real world

Oh my god is Lan Jingyi the most sensible person here

They’re going to DIE

professorsparklepants

JXHAKAJAKKQHSJA

JC and Yanli immediately see through this probably

"dumbass kid just doesn't want to go home. I'll break his legs."

tanoraqui

I think Yanli does but I have minimal faith in JC’s ability to think logically at any time

He’s still angry at WWX for leaving

professorsparklepants

Stomps to Yiling to demand his nephew back & wwx's like "lol, A-Yuan left two months ago"

Okay my shift is starting later

tanoraqui

/snort

Though, bold of you to assume that WWX isn’t also running around anxiously somewhere like “oh god, oh no, my son is missing; I must find him”

professorsparklepants

Sizhui is a responsible boy, I don't think he would leave without telling at least ONE person where he was going

tanoraqui

Ok but it was Wen Qing who thinks it’s good for WWX’s health to stop brooding and go run around like a headless chicken instead, optimally if he runs into his totally-not-a-boyfriend-Hahahaha-why-would-you-say-that

Alternately it was, like, Granny, which, ditto

No one on this mountain is going to stop WWX from going out to cause trouble and hopefully get laid, is my point

tanoraqui

Also, the cultivation world has been basically at peace for 13 years and the reason is that this is an ideal AU where JGY is dead and whenever trouble starts to stir politically, NHS and JYL meet eyes across the room and mentally Rock Paper Scissors over who has to manipulate everyone into calming the fuck down

Neither of them actually wants this job; they’re just good at it and recognize both those aspects in each other

professorsparklepants

LOLOLOL

That is.... so goddamn in character

tanoraqui

concept: JYL and NHS are friends and no one else understands it, or attributes it to JYL just being that nice, bc NHS still generally acts useless

professorsparklepants

Nhs actively wants to be useless and life is conspiring to make sure he can't

tanoraqui

a little less dramatically useless, but why ruin a good thing when you're having fun and it's useful

professorsparklepants

Lol

tanoraqui

but JYL fucking identified him as Actually Competent one time when he couldn't hide it, so now sometimes they get tea together and bitch about politics and stupid people

professorsparklepants

He's the only person who can correctly identify when she's talking shit about people, because it's VERY subtle and her brothers & husband are too busy thinking she hung the moon to notice

tanoraqui

JYL striding into Nie sect HQ (whatever it's called) and tossing her coat over a chair. "You would not BELIEVE what my brothers are doing now."

NHS: *probably knows, because he's found that the minor investment of effort in maintaining a very good spy network pays major dividends in helping him avoid greater work* *immediately sits up and pours her a cup of very expensive tea* Oh, girl, dish.

professorsparklepants

Question: are they also friends with lwj...

tanoraqui

yes but he's obviously not invited to hte political gossip sessions

professorsparklepants

I'm trying to imagine lwj making eye contact with them at some meeting his brother dragged him to and both of them struggling not to break into hysterics

tanoraqui

but they both know that he sneaks into Yiling to visit WWX a few times a year, and every single time, JYL sits him down within a couple weeks and aggressively debriefs him as to her brother's condition

professorsparklepants

I'm sure she tried to get him to take treats in

tanoraqui

for sure

it's hopeless, though, bc there's no really predicting WHEN he'll go? It's basically just "every 4-6 months when LWJ's resolve breaks"

professorsparklepants

Too bad she's not a stress quilter instead of a stress baker

tanoraqui

she gets him to go at an actual arranged time, bearing pork soup, like once, for WWX's 30th birthday or something

professorsparklepants

:)

tanoraqui

omg lit brain: LWJ of course is hte WORST for getting gossip, but JYL has pieced together a reasonable amount about the people her idiot baby brother (#2) is now living with. And she's mildly despairing as to idiot baby brother #1's ongoing refusal to get married and have an heir or three. So she, if not actively connives, then certainly siezes the first available opportunity to set Jiang Cheng up with Wen Qing

tanoraqui

basically, this au is PEAK romcom

tanoraqui

...also, for max happiness, i'd like to think that WWX made some strategic raids to rescue additional Wen refugees and bring them back, so there's a properly populated village and they didn't all just die

professorsparklepants

!!!

Good... Good thoughts

Good because 1. more people die and 2. The Yiling Patriarch will attack your village and steal your people away!

tanoraqui

(romcom being exclusively adults-focussed; the teens initiate it all but Jin Ling and Wen Yuan are both so delighted to have an Additional (But Cooler) Family Member that they comfortably cousinzone each other instantly)

professorsparklepants

*nice*

tanoraqui

...i feel like i keep characterizing Jin Ling as an only child, when really he ought to have a small horde of siblings

maybe they just...couldn't conceive more. shit happens. pregnancy is hard.

professorsparklepants

That happens sometimes

[missskzbiased]

I Hate That I’m Afraid to Love You (11)

Genre: Romance, Friendship, Angst, Hurt /Confort , Suggestive, Fluff, College Au, Enemies to Friends to Lovers Au, REALLY Slow burn, Love Square (?)

Pairing: Hyunjin X Fem!Reader  X Han X OC

WC: ~ 6,6K

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Masterlist

Notes: This chapter had been planned since I don’t know... Chap 2 or something LOL. I’m happy it finally came. I’m also happy to say that the next one will be hella suggestive. I hope you guys like it! I’m writing the chap 14 for now, so we’ve been kinda okay with the schedule. Let’s hope I don’t get blocked!

Warnings (general*): Language, Mentions of (Physical abuse, Death/ Loss of Loved One, Child Abandonment/Neglect, Divorce, Toxic Parents, Cancer, Mental disorder, Anxiety Attack, Alcohol, Food), Suggestiveness (?)

Updates: Tuesdays

Tagging: @aliceu @thatrandomoneinthecorner  @channiewoo  @bythesunnotbythemoon

                                                           ////

     You wiped all your things in your bag as soon as the bell rang, glancing at Hyunjin and Paris before getting up from your chair.

    “Are you coming with us, Hyunjin?” You asked mindlessly, checking if you had everything inside your bag and hoisting it over your shoulder as you concluded that everything was there. You looked at him, waiting for his answer, and watching as he placed his things inside his bag, taking out your book from there.

   “I won’t eat in the dining hall” He scrunched his nose, making you roll your eyes. Paris looked at you amused before looking at him and gasp, snapping her head back at you with a surprised look. You arched your brow, confused by her sudden behavior, and she darted her eyes back to him before settling them on you.

   “He was the friend you met on Wednesday?!” She asked excitedly, and you frowned. What the hell was she talking about? You looked at him confused, and he sent you a knowing look, a smirk plastered on his face.

   “Talking about me to your friends already, hm?” He teased, and you stared at him blankly before shaking your head slightly, rolling your eyes. Paris took the book in her hands, waving it for you to see it. You frowned, no clue about what she expected you to do.

   “You said you were going to meet your friend to give it to him!” She recalled, and you widened your eyes, remembering your lies. Great, now Paris would be fixed on the idea you were meeting Hyunjin behind her back “So… Are you guys friends now or something?” She grinned, and Hyunjin raised his brow at you, questioningly.

   “Yeah, yeah” You agreed, giving him a warning look that he took silently, keeping his mouth shut, “Something like that” You added, forcing a smile. Paris narrowed her eyes, suspicious, and you began to walk, so they would follow you and drop the subject.

   Paris clearly couldn’t be an actress, because she didn’t follow the script in your head.

   “Something, hm?” She teased, and you looked at Hyunjin for help. He shrugged, not knowing what to do since he didn’t even know what was going on, and you let your shoulders drop in defeat “Should I leave the love birds by themselves?” She grinned, and Hyunjin ─who clearly didn’t understand how to maintain a friendship with you─ grinned along.

   “Should she?” He asked playfully, looking directly at you. You pushed your tongue against your cheek, annoyed. Paris’s grin morphed into a full wide smile, eyes sparkling in excitement as she clasped her hands and looked at you. She was beaming. You could risk saying that you never saw her that happy in your whole life, almost relieved.

   That was how much she wanted you dating someone… Jesus.

   “Hyunjin, fuck off” You asked, voice drained and a pleading expression that made him chuckle. She giggled, happy with your not so gentle interaction, and you let out an exasperated sigh “We’re not dating, Paris” You pointed out, stressing your words. She hummed ─ clearly not buying them ─ and you let out a heavy sigh, wondering what have you done wrong in your life for your friend to believe in whatever she wanted, completely ignoring you.

    “Didn’t you mean fuck me?” Hyunjin goaded, smiling devilishly at you. Paris shot you a keyed up look, holding her breath as you walked, interested in your answer. You almost laughed at her eyes twinkling, like she was a child watching their favorite toy on display.

    “That’s exactly what I meant, thank you” You smiled obnoxiously, letting it hang in the air for a second too long, enough to confuse him “Fuck you” You added, grimacing, and he let out a wholeheartedly laugh, surprised by your retort. You chuckled, fighting back your smile as your eyes roamed around the quad as soon as you got to the stairs.

    “You almost tricked me” He confessed, humming in appreciation “You’re getting better at this”

    “Almost? You totally fell for it” You accused lightly, shooting him a funny look. Paris seemed pleased at your interaction, smiling at herself as she looked around the quad, mimicking your previous action. Unlike you, though, she let out a gasp. You raised your eyes to follow hers, spotting Han and his father walking side by side.

   “I thought Han would be lunching with us today” She mused, observing the other man walking along with them. They were walking fast, talking about something enthusiastically as Han nodded once in a while, a tight smile that conveyed his uncomfortableness from miles away. You frowned, concerned about him. Since Friday’s match, he had been feeling kinda down in general.

   Sometimes he seemed just alright as if he didn’t have anything to worry about.

   Sometimes he looked like he was drowning in regret.

   Just like now.

   The way his shoulders were dropped made it seem like he had to carry the weight of the entire world on them. The way his lips quirked down ─ almost imperceptibly but casting a shadow in the corner of his lips ─ made it seem like his whole face was taken by whatever dark thoughts wandered around his mind. The way his jaw clenched ─ stretching his neck just a little bit ─ made it seem like he had an invisible rope ready to strangle him. The way his eyebrows quivered almost imperceptibly made you realize how much he was trying to hide a clear ocean of emotions behind his worried eyes.

   You knew something was wrong and you couldn’t believe one lost match was the reason why he seemed so down lately.

   So what exactly was his problem?

   You pursed your lips, patting Paris’s shoulder before looking at Hyunjin, waving him goodbye before turning to her, forcing a small smile. You made your way to the dining hall, dismissing Paris’s idea of going their way to greet them but sending some looks over your shoulder. Maybe later you should try to figure it out.

   For now, though, it was lunchtime.

                                        //////

    Later arrived sooner than you expected.

    You bit your hot dog, crossing your legs as you fixed yourself on the stool and leaning against the stand as you watched the P.E building, waiting for Han to come out of his practice. You heard the coach wasn’t pleased about the results, and it seemed like he was taking out his frustrations on the team, tiring them out.

    You distracted yourself for a split of a second, admiring the dark sky that fell upon you. Although work in a library was fun to some extent, it was always strange to get in there with the sun burning your scalp and people wandering around, chatting up, to get out when everything was dark and quiet. The lights shooting from the roof made you trail their path, getting too invested in them to notice someone coming in your way.

   “Waiting for your boyfriend?” Minho’s voice sounded as soon as someone shadowed your view. You focused your gaze on him. Despite his usual teasing, it was clear he was drained, an unusual frown giving him away. You gestured to the stool beside you for him to sit, ignoring his teasing like you often did when you didn’t find it in you the urge to whine at him. He gestured to the employee, asking whatever he called the usual before he sat down.

   The silence was slightly awkward but neither of you tried to say anything at first. You glanced at him, munching your food as you pretended not to be interested in why he looked so edgy today. He tapped his fingers on the stand, eyes fixed on the building behind him; though he probably didn’t intend to show his anxiety, the subtle rocking his body made back and forth was enough for you to sigh in defeat, lowering your food.

   “What is it?” You decided to ask, taking him by surprise. He looked at you astonished; impressed you even noticed something was wrong with him, blinking a few times as he deadpanned. You rolled your eyes, shoulders dropping as you scoffed “Really? You look like shit, Minho! Also, you can’t stop bouncing your leg and drumming your fingers. I mean, either you’re anxious or you really want to be a drummer” He snorted, nodding in defeat.

   “It’s been tiring” He shrugged “Coach is mad at us for losing like that… I fucked everything up” He admitted “I couldn’t even think about missing a serve in a time like this… He’s been on my tail since then” He sighed, clearly overwhelmed “Also, I think Han isn’t feeling much better… “ He eyed you cautiously “Isn’t he distant lately?” You blinked, thinking deeply.

   Well, to tell the truth, he kinda was.

   “I think so? He has been acting weird… I don’t think it’s about the match though” You confessed, resting your hot dog on the stand before continuing “Sometimes it just seems like he’s lost inside his head, I don’t know how to explain” He nodded in agreement, looking at your food as if he craved for it, making you chuckle “You can have it, I’m okay” You pushed it his way, fighting back a chortle as he blushed, embarrassed.

    “No! Sorry! I’m just…” He closed his eyes when his stomach growled, and this time you couldn’t hold back your laughter, pushing your food closer to him “Sorry, I’m starving” He admitted, picking up your hot dog and humming as soon as he had a bite “The damn coach didn’t give us any time to fucking eat!” He muttered, mouth full of food, as he tried to cup it so he wouldn’t spat at you.

    “Han missed the practice? Where is he?” You asked out of nowhere, realizing that if the coach was on their tail, he should be with Minho right now. Minho gulped down his food, sighing.

    “He’s at the gym… He said he needed some alone time” He took another bite, cupping his mouth again “Said he wasn’t hungry… As if” He scoffed. You frowned, looking at the building once more, attention dragged back as Minho’s food was settled in front of him “Do you want some?” He offered, pointing to his brand new hot dog.

    “Actually… Can I have this? I’ll pay for yours” You reassured him, picking up your bag to search for your wallet “I’m going to push it down his throat” You grunted, putting the money right in front of Minho. He laughed, shaking his head and waving his hand dismissively.

   “What a caring girlfriend” He teased, gesturing so he could order another one, pushing your money back to you before you gave him a neck-slap “I owe him one” He shrugged it off, and you wiped your money back into your bag, picking up the hot dog and quickly making your way to the gym, afraid he would just go home unexpectedly.

    You struggled a little bit to find it but as soon as you spotted Han laid down on the floor, arms crossed upon his eyes and fingers buried into his hair ─ the definition of defeat himself ─ you felt all your unsettledness dissolve into pure worry. You cleared your throat, and the sudden echo in the empty gym startled him. He shot his body up, sitting on the floor and moving his hands away so he could see who was sneaking there; shoulders dropping in relief when he spotted you.

   The next second, he tensed up, realizing it was you.

   “What are you doing here?” He asked surprised, way more stiffly than you were used to seeing him. You approached him, handing the hot dog without a word, and he arched his brow in wonder, looking at you as if you were crazy “What is it? You suddenly had the urge to come here with a hot dog?” He scoffed, and this time you rolled your eyes.

   “Just eat the damn thing” You pushed it in the air, and he took it gratefully “I heard you said you weren’t hungry… I immediately realized you needed a friend. I mean, did I ever see you satisfied in your life?” You joked, and he laughed at it for a few seconds before his laughter died slowly, giving way to an awkward silence.

   “I don’t think you did” He muttered under his breath, taking a bite. You gasped, taken aback by the sudden change in the mood. Han wasn’t the one to complain about his life. If you were being honest, you couldn’t recall a time he complained about anything for real ─ well, except for Hyunjin being in your life ─, so you took the hint to sit down next to him, placing your hand on his knee.

    “You know you can talk to me, right?” You offered unsure, eyeing him cautiously “I may not be able to help you but I can hear you out” You gave him a small smile which he returned, sighing right after. He took a bite of his food but didn’t seem to care about the taste, as he didn’t even hum like he used to do when he ate it.

   “I don’t know where to begin with” He stated, eyes unfocused but fixed somewhere over your shoulder “I mean… I don’t know… You know?” He trailed off, which wasn’t really helpful. You furrowed your brows, tilting your head.

  “Could you be more specific?” You asked amused, and he chuckled, gulping down his food.

   “I lost this game… And for what, Y/N? For what?” He sighed heavily “Dad brought a friend to meet me today… He said those things happen, said he knows I’m better than that…” You perked up at that, happy he would have another chance sooner than expected “He watched my other games and said I’m promising” He concluded with another sigh.

  Though his words were all good signs, he said them as if they were a death sentence.

  “I don’t follow you” You admitted, confused “Isn’t it a good thing? I mean… Did he give you a chance? Will you play on a team?” You added, and he looked at your eyes deeply demotivated.

  “I don’t deserve that spot” His tone was hurt, kinda breathy, and you were taken aback by how destroyed he looked. Has he ever been this tired? You couldn’t remember it “I wasn’t supposed to have that spot” He added, laughing humorlessly “What about my team? What about them, Y/N? They missed their chances because I’m a son of a bitch” His hands fisted his hair and he gazed at the floor, embarrassed to raise his eyes and look at you.

   “You deserve it, Han! I watched every game for the last two years… You were incredible in each one of them. One bad day can’t just erase all of your hard work” You took your hand from his knee to rest it on his shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly “They’ll get another chance! All of you made some mistakes throughout the game… A lost match isn’t the responsibility of a single player, Han. You’re a team”

   “I missed the ball” He blurted out, and you raised your brows surprised.

   “Yeah, I know but it doesn’t mean you’re the one to—“ He interrupted you, voice firm and guilty.

   “No, I missed the ball” He shut his eyes, and you frowned, confused.

   “Yes, I know… What I mean is –“ You tried again, and this time he interrupted you with a peal of incredulous laughter but not a hint of humor in it.

   “No! You don’t understand it!” He whined, voice faltering as if he was about to cry “I missed it, Y/N… I choose not to save it! I missed the damn ball!” He raised his voice, half-yelling on the silent gym; voice echoing over and over again, sinking in your brain slowly.

   “You did what?” You couldn’t believe it. Why would he do something like that? You stood there, staring at him blankly, blinking a few times as you tried to make sense of what he just said. He looked at you with so much hurt in his eyes, that it was impossible not to feel the regret engulfing him right now.

  “I let my team lose… I took away their chances because I’m an egoistic son of a bitch” His voice was thick, heavy even, and yet it broke into a million pieces. You felt your heart sink, not knowing what to say. He covered his eyes, bringing his knees next to his chest to rest his face there, grip tightening on his hair.

  “Why?” You asked slowly, at a loss of words. He raised his head just a little bit, enough for you to get a glimpse of his teary eyes and quivering chin.

  “I don’t want to be a player” He confessed bluntly.

   At first, you gasped, dumbfounded.

   Then everything made sense all at once.

   “You want to be a musician” You blurted out, breathlessly “I can’t believe I didn’t see it before… Han, why are you here? Why aren’t you going after your dreams?” You couldn’t understand him. He was so talented! He did so much in his projects with Paris… What was he afraid of? It didn’t make any sense.

   “It doesn’t matter what I want… What does matter is that I ruined what everyone else wanted” He sighed, cupping his cheek as he tilted his head to the side, looking at you with a face that had failure written all over it “And for what? Just to get into a team… It was useless” You frowned, starting to get upset at him.

  “Do you think you’re some kind of god or something?” You snarled, scoffing and looking away from him before returning your gaze “Were you alone in that damn court, Han? Were you playing all by yourself?” You ranted. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, surprised by your outburst.

  “No, but I could have –“ You sneered, nodding in discontent.

  “And so could them!” You shouted, and he pursed his lips, afraid of speaking up. You sighed, shoulders dropping “Look… The only thing you should be feeling guilty about is to be a dumbass” You snorted, and he seemed to relax a little bit “How can you think that your dream doesn’t matter, Han? It’s all that matters… It’s your life. You just have this one to live” You looked deep into his eyes, and he averted them, flustered.

   “Actually… If you believe in reincarnation and –“ You groaned, interrupting him.

   “Don’t try to change the subject!” You threatened him with your eyes but he seemed to find it amusing, letting out a chuckle “Why aren’t you pursuing your dreams? Why are you here if you could make yourself a hell out of a musician?” You asked curiously, and his amusement faded away.

   “You’re going to laugh at me…” He trailed off. You squeezed his shoulder once more, encouraging him to speak “Dad was a volleyball player” He began awkwardly, and you nodded reassuringly “He got injured real bad and had to retire… He got kinda depressed, you know? It was his dream. He loved to play. It happened when I was a kid… I decided to join my school team, so he could watch my matches and… Well, I wanted to make him feel happy” He shrugged.

   You sighed, knowing damn well how it would end.

   “When I won my first match he was so excited… It was the first time he laughed like that in a long time, so I just… Well, I wanted to allow him to live his dream through me” He sighed “And I loved to play, I really did. Somewhere along the way, it stopped being my dream and it started to be my burden, though” He looked at you, waiting for your reaction, and you looked at him sympathetically.

   “So drop it” You advised, and he scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief.

   “You don’t understand it! I don’t want to disappoint him… He did nothing but support me my whole life, Y/N… I’m his Champ” He sounded bitter, lips twisting down “How can I take it away from him? How can I carry the burden of letting him down?” He sighed, and you chuckled. He raised his eyes, confused, and your chuckled grew to a giggle until you couldn’t stop laughing. He looked offended, so you rushed to wave your hands eagerly.

   “I’m not laughing at you!” You assured, shaking your head in amusement “It’s just… Han, I don’t think you could ever let him down, really. The man just adores you! He’d accept you as you are, Han. Whoever you are. He loves you, and he does it from the bottom of his heart” You reassured him, pushing his shoulder lightly “He even approved of your imaginary relationship with Paris and Minho” You pointed out, laughing.

   “Don’t even remind me of this!” He cringed “It was embarrassing” He sighed, glancing over at you.

   “No, it wasn’t” You chuckled “I think it’s awesome you have someone who loves you so much… I can’t even imagine how it works” You smiled sadly, shrugging “I mean… I think he would have your back. He asked us to say to you that he was really proud of you, even if you lost it… He was concerned you’d be embarrassed to look at him after your match, that was why he just left earlier” He gasped, and you snorted “You should have known it but you got so drunk…”

   “Do you think he will take it well?” He asked unsurely, and you got up, extending your hand for him to help him out. He took it, standing right in front of you “I mean… Don’t you think it’d be better if I kept playing for him? I even have a team” You opened your arms for a hug, and he stood there staring at you.

    “Han, put it inside your head” You rolled your eyes “Your father loves you so much… Do you think his dream is to see you playing? His dream is to see you happy, Han. He’d be happy if you were happy. That’s all you need to do” You stepped closer to him, hugging him. He leaned his head against your shoulder, inhaling deeply “Just chase your dreams and he’ll support you with all his heart, okay? You’ll be a great musician and He’ll go to every one of your shows with Paris’s foam glove” You chuckled.

    You squeezed him, trying to convey some peace into him, feeling how he melted, hugging you back full of love. It was a warm hug and for a split of a second, you remembered Hyunjin saying Han liked you. You tried to pull away, haunted by the mere thought of taking him away from Paris but he held you tight.

   You inhaled sharply.

   “I never had someone to talk like this…” He muttered against your shoulder, and you hummed, patting his back “No one ever supported me like this… I’m…” He trailed off, and you got it as a hint to break away from him, smiling uncomfortably, rubbing your nape.

   “I mean, you have a lot of supporters! You have me and Par—“ Before you could complete your sentence, he interrupted you, grabbing your shoulders firmly and looking deep in your eyes.

   Oh boy.

   “I like you” He confessed, simply like this, and you shut your eyes tightly, exhaling slowly. You couldn’t get away from this “I have liked you for a while now… I always had a crush on you, and I thought I could just let it go but I can’t” He continued, rubbing circles on your skin with his thumbs. You opened your eyes again, looking at him like you were in pain “If you can just give me a chanc—“ You placed your finger upon his lips, sighing.

   “I can’t, Han… I’d do anything for you, I really like you but… Like a brother or something like this. I never thought about you as more than a friend” You admitted, pursing your lips as he gave you a hurt expression.

   “Maybe we can try to go on a date? Just to see if we may click! Perhaps you can come to like m—“ You sighed again, shaking your head slowly.

  “I really can’t… It wouldn’t be fair to you and it wouldn’t be fair to… Well, it’s just not fair” You shrugged, trying to keep Paris out of your speech. He pursed his lips, twisting them down and lowering his gaze, ashamed to look at you “Don’t be like this, we can still be friends and—“ This time was his time to interrupt you.

  “I can’t do it right now” He admitted “How can I look at you every day knowing you don’t like me back? Knowing you’re going to be my friend out of pity?” He looked deep in your eyes, and you could see how conflicted he was right now. The tears prickled in your eyes, and you could see how his eyes were glossy as well.

   “I don’t pity you… I really want to be your friend!” You assured him eagerly, voice faltering. He snorted, nodding in understanding.

   “But I don’t want to be friends with you… I want to be something more” He sighed, voice faltering as well. It was a vulnerable moment, and he took a deep breath before letting go of your shoulders “It’s not that I don’t want to be friends with you anymore, okay? It’s just that I can’t do it right now… I need some time” He confessed, averting his eyes.

   “You promise you won’t bail on me?” You asked, holding your pinky out in the air, expecting him to lock his with yours.

  “Yeah, of course” He smiled weakly at you, locking your fingers together.

                                                                    ////

   It was needless to say you looked like shit as soon as you got home.

   The walk to the dorms was quiet and uncomfortable as Han made sure to drop you off, claiming that some rejection didn’t mean he couldn’t make sure you would get home safe. Although it was gentle and thoughtful, the silence sank in a way that made you cringe the whole way in the most awkward walk you ever had in your life.

  You opened the door and something about it ─maybe it was the popcorn smell, maybe it was the soft sound of unknown voices coming from the TV ─ made you realize that you were finally home. It hit you like a truck, and all the tiredness washed over you mercilessly. The weight of your busy day impregnated every fiber of your body, and suddenly you felt too worn out to say anything. You let out a heavy sigh, closing the door behind you before dropping your keys and bag to the counter, walking to the fridge to have some water.

      From morning to night, all your day was filled with worries.

      Paris raised her eyes from the TV ─ pausing whatever she was watching to look at you, which gave you a moment of comfortable silence that made you hum in approval─, studying you silently for a few seconds. She seemed to be puzzled by your nonchalantly self and somehow it pushed her to talk to you, even if it was pretty obvious you didn’t want to say anything right now.

   “You’re late” She stated, glancing over the clock before turning her gaze back at you “Were you with Hyunjin?” She smiled mischievously, tone knowing and teasing, and you looked at her far too done to play along “You look exhausted, the night must have been really nic—“ You shot her a look, deciding you weren’t up to this kind of bullshit right now.

  “I was with Han” You interrupted, and her face fell. She averted her eyes before biting her lip, turning her gaze back at you, unsure if she should say something. You kept looking at her, waiting for some kind of reaction but she was settled in look eager to know though too afraid to ask.

  As if it wasn’t enough, your head started to pound.

  “He confessed to me” You decided to come clean, studying her reaction. She raised her eyebrows slightly, not as surprised as you thought she would be. If you must describe it, she looked resigned, as if she knew it would happen all along. You frowned, narrowing your eyes to her “You knew?” You sounded accusatory, and she didn’t miss the tone.

   “I think you’re the only one who couldn’t see it” She admitted, “How did it go?” She couldn’t even look at your eyes, fixing her gaze on the floor. You took another gulp, roaming your eyes up and down at her. She fisted her hands, head dropped and body all stiff as if she was really afraid of your answer; her voice sounded weak enough for you to know she was fighting the urge to cry, and it made you sigh once more.

   “How could I do this to you?” You gave her a small smile, which she saw because her head snapped back at you, eyes widen as she took your smile in “You love him, don’t you?”

  “You knew?!” She was taken aback. It seemed like the mere thought of you knowing about her feelings didn’t even cross her head. She stood up from the couch, and for a moment you thought she would beam and hug you, maybe even thank you for letting him go. Not that you needed it. You widened your smile but she didn’t offer you one back.

   Paris looked offended.

   Not like her usual mock offended self, or her joking and kind self. She looked as if you just slapped her in her face. She was angry, to say the least, face red and brows furrowed, jaw clenched and you could see her swallowing dry. Her eyes held a storm inside them that you never saw before, and for a moment you wondered if you misunderstood her feelings.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” She spat, and you blinked twice, surprised, head tilting back slightly as if her words had impacted you like a punch “Did you… I can’t… What the fuck were you thinking?!” She yelled, stumbling over her words. You couldn’t understand her train of thoughts, so you just stood there speechless.

  What the fuck was going on?

  “Answer me!” She demanded, tears prickling her eyes “God… You’re… Why are you like this?! Why can’t you… Argh!” She groaned, fisting her hair and pulling it slightly, throwing her head back. She let go of her hair, shooting you a glare “Why?! Just tell me why!” She uttered, and you decided to rest your glass on the counter, confused.

  “I don’t follow you… Are you mad because I said no to him?” You asked just to be sure, and she laughed like a maniac. Out of nowhere. You glanced at your sides, startled, wondering if maybe it was all a joke and tons of cameras would take pictures of your flabbergasted self. She stopped laughing to clasp her hands, the sharp sound making you yelp.

  “How did you know I liked him?” She asked, trying to organize her questions, inhaling deeply so she could control herself.

  “You told me and Hyunjin when you got drunk at the party before our deadline” You answered simply, choosing to be the most straightforward as possible. She nodded, looking displeased with herself, scrunching her nose before turning her gaze back to you.

  “Why did you say no to him?” She asked, voice lower, and you scoffed amusedly.

  “What is it? Am I obliged to return his feelings now?” You chuckled but she didn’t seem to find it funny. She glared at you, and your laugh died inside your throat, making you gulp down. She approached you, getting right at the other side of the counter, looking dead serious to something as harmless as this.

   “He loves you!” She uttered, pissed off, and you clapped your hands, starting to get annoyed at her constant yelling. Your head throbbed and your thought flickered around the fact that you were too tired for it, too eager to go to your bed and lay down. Suddenly, all of your turbulent feelings seemed to find their way out of you, turning into anger and displeasure.

   “What do you want me to do?!” You fumed “I just fucking got out of your way! Why the hell you’re so fucking mad?!” You inquired, smacking the counter, startling her for a second. She recovered fast though, mimicking you the next second.

  “Out of my way?!” She grunted “Do you ever think about anyone at all?! How did you think I’d feel when you refused him out of pity?!” She raised her voice, looking at you full of disgust “So I should thank your holy ass because you got out of my way?” She laughed humorlessly “Maybe I didn’t want you to get out! Maybe I wanted you in!”

  What the fuck now?

  “Take your head out of your butt once in your life! How do you think I felt seeing him liking you all this time?! Hm?! Did you think it was fun to watch me liking him when he liked you?!” You watched as the first tear rolled down her face “Did you think I’d be glad because you’re pitying me?!” She spat, looking away, trying to hide her tears streaming down her face.

  It was enough for you to calm down a little bit.

  “I don’t pity you” You said softly, and she scoffed, shaking her head in contempt.

  “Yeah? But you should!” She said bitterly “Did you know I liked him for two years?! Did you know how much I wanted to confess to him?! Do you know why I didn’t?!” It was hard to understand what she was saying; her voice sounding thick as she tried to hold back her tears, choking and sobbing as she tried to yell at you, all at the same time.

  “Paris, calm down” You asked, concerned, and she groaned once more, pressing her palms against her eyes before punching the counter.

  “Calm down?! I stepped away because I love you, Y/N! Because I love him!” her face was twisted in pain and regret, and you wanted to reach out for her but you didn’t, afraid of her reaction “You’re my best friend! I’d do anything for you! Anything!” She cried, hiccupping as she tried to recompose herself “You know how much it took for me to let him go so you could be with him? You shouldn’t reject him because of me! I can’t have gone through all this for nothing!” She yelled, devasted.

  “Why would you do that, Paris?” You were so confused right now, so lost in everything she was saying… She laughed, choking on her saliva before continuing, and you pondered about giving her your glass of water but the thought of a pissed Paris having a glass to throw at you demotivated you immediately.

   “Because you’re lonely!” She howled, whimpering, and trying to recompose herself once more.

   The silence was deafening.  

  “I… You… What?” You floundered, and she shut her eyes, sighing.

  “Because you’re lonely, Y/N… Because I know you need love in your life… Because I know Han can make you happy…” She dragged each sentence out of her chest, in a serious tone, crying toning down a bit, sounding utterly worn out “If what I have to do to make sure you end up happy is to step away and give up on him… Then I’d do it gladly” She concluded, and suddenly you could relate to her pained expression, scoffing in disbelief before breaking into a fit of laughter.

   You were fully aware you sounded crazy as you cackled up, smacking the counter over and over again as if she had just told you a hilarious joke. The laughter didn’t last for long, though, dying into your throat as your smacking turned harder each time until you were punching the counter, tears pouring out of your eyes uncontrollably. You shut your eyes closed, keeping hitting it nonstop until the pain you felt in your hand could cloud any other thought.

   “You call this friendship?” You gestured between both of you, voice trembling and breaking “You said I don’t think about anyone but what about you, Paris?” You asked bitterly, and when she averted her eyes, rage engulfed you “What about you, Paris?!” You yelled, smacking the counter once again “So you’re saying you did it all for me?! Out of pity?! Because I need love?!” You laughed humorlessly, shooting your head back to breathe deeply “I need a therapist, Paris! That’s what I need”

   You picked up your bag, glaring at her.

   “And you know what?! That’s what you need too!” You dropped your bag again, fuming “Giving up on someone you love because you think I need it more than you?! Don’t blame me for being a coward!” You scoffed, rolling your eyes “Do you want to be canonized or something? Do you think it makes you more worthy of love than me?” She gasped, trying to shake her head to deny it but you snorted and raised your hand for her to stop “Are you so desperate you’d do anything to be worthy of love? Am I so unworthy that you thought nobody but he could love me?” Your voice calmed down, the anger left behind to give way to an unwavering cold tone.

   “No, Y/N, that’s not what I mea—“ You picked up your bag, walking to the door “Where are you going?” She asked worried, trying to get closer to you.

   “Did you think that I might not love him back? Do you think I’m so desperate for love that I wouldn’t even think about my feelings? That I’d accept anything? Did you really think about my feelings at all?” You sighed, opening the door, ignoring her question “I don’t love him, Paris… I’m sorry you had to hold back your feelings all this time. I’m sorry it was so hard on you. I’m sorry for not coming up to your expectations…”

   You looked at her, deep in her eyes, and both of you held your urge to cry, looking at each other as if only hurt could dwell in your soul right now. Neither of you said anything, holding each other’s stare for a while, taking in the entire situation.

   “But all that…?” You gestured at her, hand fumbling in the air “It’s all on you” You stated seriously “Don’t blame me for things you decided by yourself… I have enough of this with my father, thank you very much” You snickered “If you were really glad to give up on him, you wouldn’t beam thinking I had something with Hyunjin, would you?” She bit her lips, averting her eyes embarrassed “Maybe you should think about why you’re so riled up about this… I didn’t reject him because I pity you, Paris…”

   You held up your breath before exhaling heavily, positioning yourself to get out. You hesitated for a second on the doorframe, facing the hall, back turned at her before voicing your thoughts once more,“But if you really wanna know, I think now I do” And with this being said, you closed the door, making sure to not look behind.

[sasa-gay-yo]

Just Us (Chapter Two: Expedition)

← Chapter One

A Month Later 

The newspaper was open on the counter as I handed a customer a croissant and their overly-sweetened coffee. I was flipping through the pages, trying to find anything about the Scout’s latest expedition outside of the walls and if they had posted a casualties list. 

“Eva? Miss. Eva? Eva?!” I looked up again and noticed the kids trying to pull themselves taller than the counter to get my attention. How long were they asking for me? 

“Elias! June! What can I get for you today?” They put their spare change on the counter and counted it out. Not enough to buy a single cup of coffee combined. 

“What can we get for this much, Miss. Eva?” I smiled down at them again and pointed to the muffins I had cooling on the table. Blueberry was their favorite.

“If you both clean off the tables for me, by the time you’re done the muffins will be cool enough.” They nodded furiously and I handed them two rags. They both went off and divided the work. June was taller so she would try and wipe down the tables because she could reach the center, and Elias would reach the empty cups and plates and put them into the dish bin. Some of the old people looked at their running and saw it as annoying, but I just stared at them with a smile, reminding me of when I was a kid in this café. Having no concept of money, I would do chores and Mr. Flynn would just give me enough money to get a single piece of candy from the shop down the street. My labor definitely outweighed the money I received for it, but I was just happy getting candy. 

I turned my back on the kids, taking the newspaper with me, leaning on the glass case. It was a Saturday morning, so everyone had the luxury of sleeping in and not going to work but me. The bakery has to be open almost 24/7 so I can break even. Scanning the pages, I finally found what I was looking for. On the last page was only one paragraph describing the maneuver that the Scouts had done this past month taken from an interview from Commander Erwin. Something about implementing long-distance formations. Erwin’s speaking and various prints on the newspaper had shown him on opposite end of the coin of his captain. He seemed bright, personality and looks wise, and almost like a knight from fairytales. If Erwin was bright, then Levi was dark; maybe only in the form of rumors that I had yet to prove true.

Glancing over at the kids’ process, I found myself looking at the spot he sat. It was empty, and even if a group had sat there, it seemed empty. Their presence wasn’t as big as his. I laughed, big presence, little body. Maybe he’s compensating. 

It’s been a little over a month since he had been back to the café. That usually marked that the Scout had died, but I had a weird string of faith for him. If he’s Humanity’s Strongest, there’s no way an expedition would end him. Also, the thought of it being a freak visit made me a bit sad, but if I only met him once, it would be better than meeting him many times and then never again. 

“Miss. Eva, we’re done!” I handed the two muffins and their smiles were big enough to take me out of my thoughts completely.

“Here you go Miss. Eva.” June handed me the coins and I shook my head. 

“You paid for the muffins by cleaning. Go buy some candy down the street. If you tell him that Eva sent you, he might give you a free piece.” Elias’s, the younger, eye’s widened at the chance of free candy, but June seemed a bit reserved. She looked down at the floor and had one foot moving around on tiptoe. She wanted to ask me something. Was she too embarrassed to ask it in front of her little brother? 

“Eli, can you go buy me a lollipop? I want to sit here and eat my muffin.” He didn’t care about anything other than the candy he was going to get, so he nodded and took off. I watched as he ran through the small crowd on the street. 

“Now, what do you want to ask me June?” Her face went red and she was still staring at the floor. 

“How...How do you know you like a boy?” I almost choked on air and made sure I heard her right. She had a mother, but she comes and asks the baker that gives her free food. I should take it as a complement and I should tell her not to worry about boys until she was older. These kids are getting more and more mature than I was at eleven. 

“Why are you asking me that?” She put the muffin on the counter. 

“W-Well I know a lot of boys like you! So, you have to know how!” She got confident with her last sentence, but it was the first one that shocked me. Where were these men? She might just be exaggerating to get her point across.

“I didn’t know that a lot of boys liked me, June. I just stay in this building almost all day. What boys?” 

“Um… I was told not to tell you.” I narrowed my eyes at her and thought of a way to get it out of her.

“If I tell you how to know you like a boy, you have to tell me what boys like me. Your mother is one of the people telling me I should get married soon. You could help me with that.” She nodded furiously and easily betrayed whoever the man was. 

“When you like a boy… hm. I’ve only ever liked a few boys, June. I guess it starts with you wanting to talk to them a lot. You hope that whenever you’re in the same room as them, they come and talk to you. When you’re at school do you want this boy to come over to your desk?”

“Yes, but he only goes to his other friend’s desks.” She huffed and rested her chin on the counter. Cute. I reached over and ruffled her hair.

“Sometimes you get this feeling in your stomach, like butterflies. You get really nervous and can’t talk that well to him. You might just stare a lot because you’re too afraid to say anything that might sound stupid.” She sat up again, a more determined look on her face. 

“So then how do I know he likes me?” I wiped the spot where her chin was on the table. My hands were definitely in need of some lotion or balm. It wasn’t even winter yet and they were still cracking over the amount I used them.  

“It’s hard to tell with boys. Sometimes they’ll be mean to you and it still means they like you. Sometimes they won’t talk to you at all, but they’ll just stare at you too. Some boys will also just talk and talk to you about anything. Boys your age are pretty dumb. Boys are dumb in general, actually. It doesn’t get better with age.” She nodded in agreement and I ruffled her hair a little bit more, seeing that Elias was already running back with a small bag. 

“So that’s how I know Jonas likes you. Because he doesn’t stop talking to you.” My eyes widened a little bit as something I was suspicious of being confirmed. 

“Jonas said that?” She nodded. 

“He says he thinks you’re the prettiest girl in Trost and probably of all the districts.” She covered her mouth like it was going to help she spilled her confidant’s secret. 

“Well isn’t that sweet of him.” Elias almost fell opening the door to come back in. Once he stopped he was breathing hard and put the bag of candy on the counter. 

“Guess who I saw coming this way, Eva!” His words barely came out through his hard breathing and coughing. I turned around to get him a glass of water.

“I don’t know, Elias. With you’re yelling it’s gotta be someone cool.” 

“You have to guess, Eva!” 

“Oh, I don’t know! A tit-” My words stopped when I turned back around to give Elias water. It was a sudden return and I didn’t know how to react to it. However, it made sense. I saw the people gather a few days ago to welcome them back.

“Captain.” He was wearing his uniform still, the hood of his cape making him even darker, but I was glad he took it off when meeting my eyes. June and Elias moved aside, leaving their things on the counter. 

“One cup of black tea, please.” I smiled a bit and nodded as he took the coins from his pocket. Today, I wouldn’t make a suggestion. It seemed like he was running on two hours of sleep and needed something. I would have suggested coffee, but I didn’t think he’d accept it. 

He went to sit in the same spot and something inside of me lit up. It wasn’t empty anymore. Now that he had come a second time, he would have to start coming back. It wasn’t a fluke.

“Bye, Miss. Eva!” June pulled Elias out of the café, no doubt to go and spy on Captain Levi from a different angle. I looked up at the clock on the wall to see if he had returned at the same time. It was closer to one o’clock, meaning if he stayed the same length of time, he’d be here at closing. Something about that made me excited. 

The café filled with a total of 4 people felt so alive now that he was in it. Maybe it was because he had broken the perpetual boredom inside of me. It could also be because his actions proved that it wasn’t a freak accident leading him here. The Captain had to be intelligent and calculating, so the fact that he chose here was ever more intriguing. 

I poured the tiny bowl of honey again and walked over to his table. With the small number of people here, I might also have a better chance of having a conversation.

“One black tea for the Captain.” 

“Thank you.” It was short, but not a grunt this time. Progress was being made. I didn’t stand and stare this time but went back to fake reading the newspaper. The news that I wanted showed up at my doorstep, so I just looked at the riddles section. 

I wonder how the last expedition went for him. Did he kill more titans? I mean that probably is a given for him. What is it like looking at a titan up close? I had never seen a titan in person, only in drawings, but I was still curious. I put the newspaper down, pretending to go do something, and locked eyes with him right away. He was staring at me. Should I play with him to get him to talk? No. I just smiled and turned to go do some fake task. Apparently, wiping the counter that June and Elias cleaned seemed to be that task. 

The tables! I grabbed the bucket on the floor and a rag that Elias used. They may have done it already, but if it gave me some reason to talk to Captain, then I guess the tables have to deal with being extra clean... and my hands would have to deal with being extra dry.

“Oi.” It was soft and I looked up from the 5th table. I pointed to myself and he nodded, “This table needs to be wiped again. Whoever did it before did a bad job.” I narrowed my eyes and thought of Elias as he ran around cleaning. He just insulted my kid. 

“It looks clean to me,” I retorted sounding a bit childish. I had a kid’s legacy to protect. He wiped a finger on the wood and held it up to me. His finger had nothing on it. Never knew someone who could kill titans would also be a clean freak. Isn’t that an oxymoron? 

“It’s dirty. I might even report you to the police for keeping food in this environment.” I huffed and put the bucket on the floor, noticing that a few drops had hit his boots. I’m sure he didn’t leave that unnoticed either, tsk, the clean freak. He might make me buy him new ones. 

I leaned over and cleaned the table while he lifted his cup and saucer up. It was then I realized how close he was to me and how much he was staring. This time he wouldn’t glance away every time I looked back, almost like he was inspecting my cleaning. 

“There you go, Captain.” 

“It’s Levi. Just Levi. You’re not my subordinate.” Huh, was this him trying to be nice and sociable? I’ll take it. 

“And it’s Evlynn Flynn. I know unfortunate naming, but I didn’t pick it. Everyone calls me Eva. Just Eva.” I mimicked him and he seemed to not care about the joke I just made. Guess he wouldn’t like the riddle section of the paper. 

“What were you reading about?” I put the rag back into the bucket like I was going to move onto the next table. Who was I kidding? 

“Huh?” 

“The newspaper. What were you reading?” Oh. Now, if I told him that would be embarrassing. Isn’t this the second time that this has happened? 

“Just everything. I read about your last expedition. The papers seem to not deem it important. They gave your commander just one paragraph.” He set his cup down. He was only half way done... this soon?

“Well, at least they published something this time. Usually, we just get nasty looks.” I laughed a bit, and his expression told me that that wasn’t a joke. 

“I think it’s the last few expeditions you’ve had. You’ve come back with less and less dead. It seems so… calm outside the walls. Not many titans to fight. Maybe they’re getting ready to hibernate for the winter.” He nodded and seemed like he wasn’t going to continue the conversation. A man of few words. One rumor: true. 

Assuming he was done talking to me, I turned to fake wash the other tables.

“Why are you interested in the Scouts? Not a lot of people are.” 

“Oh, well, I have to have something to give me hope, right?” I looked at the chair behind me that was very much open. No, I wouldn’t sit today. Give him something to hope for too.

“Hope? From the Scouts?” 

“Yeah. If anyone is going to save us from the titans, it has to be the ones actively killing them, right? The Garrison, they’re the ones who give me no hope. They come in on duty and drink my coffee supplies down the drain. I have to go to the capital to get those.” He finished his cup of tea and I looked up to the clock. It had only been an hour. 

“Do you also get your tea from the capital?” I nodded and went to clean the table closest to him. It made him turn to me and that’s when I realized he did want to talk. Like actually talk. 

“Sometimes it’s the marketplace by the gates. Other times it’s the one by Mitras. The two you drank were specialty from some dealer in the underground who deals in Mitras. I think he scammed me for them, but if you’re enjoying them, then I guess it’s worth it.” His face had a look of recognition. 

“That’s why I remember this taste. I’ve had these teas before.” Rumor number two confirmed. Levi was from the underground. 

“You were born in the underground.” It wasn’t a question and he nodded, “Me too.” I don’t know what made me spill such a big part of my life to him, maybe the fact that we were the same, but I didn’t feel any regret like I did when I told Jonas the first time. He understood what it meant to be from there.

After that, it was a comfortable silence as I went on fake cleaning. We had reached a point of similarity and that was enough. I tended to customers and gave him a second cup of tea when he asked. For the amount of time he stayed, it was probably their few days off after an expedition. I wonder when he’d have to go back to the HQ from Trost. Do they have houses inside Trost? I know some of the older Scouts relocate their families here to be closer, but the chance of Levi having family was low. Those would be questions for another visit. 

“Have a good dinner, Mrs. Markas!” She waved from the door as she took her bag of bread. I looked at the clock again. It would be time to get ready to close soon. Levi was still in his chair, looking out at the dinnertime rush. I sadden a bit at our future parting when I kicked him out. I might just let him sit until I have to go upstairs to sleep. 

The last few customers came through and I looked at the small amount of bread left. No one was going to come in anymore. Time to close. 

I grabbed my broom and went to open the door so I could sweep dirt outside. 

“Captain?” I leaned over so I could see if he reacted to me calling him. What I saw made my eyes widen in surprise. His eyes were closed, his head tilted a little back, and he was breathing heavily. Was he… sleeping? I thought he stopped talking to me because he didn’t have anything to say. How long was he sleeping? 

I stopped sweeping to give him a good look in the setting sun. The dark circles were still there, but his face had completely softened. His hair was swept back revealing all of his face. Even with his sharp features, when he was sleeping, something had changed. He looked peaceful. I decided not to ruin precious sleep for him, remembering the state he walked in with, and I cleaned around him. Even when I took his cup, he didn’t flinch or wake up. Good, he needed sleep. I was also a little happy he decided to do it in my café. 

I closed the windows and turned the lamps up a bit so I could still see what I was doing. Should I wake him up now? It’s getting late and he’d have to ride back to the HQ in the dark. He might even get in trouble for being out so late. Groaning, I walked over to shake him. Putting a hand on his shoulder, I shook him softly. 

“Levi? Levi? Captain Levi?” With the last one, his eyes shot open and his hand slammed on the table. I jumped away from him. Good thing I had moved the teacup a few minutes ago. Within seconds of him waking up, the hardness was back again and it was like he never took a nap. 

“What time is it?” He looked up at me and probably was confused that I held my heart in my hand. He had scared me waking up so violently. 

“It’s almost five at night. I thought you might need to head back to HQ.” He stood up almost knocking the chair over. Huh, he was actually a few centimeters taller than me. 

“Um, yes, I… I need to head back. I have paperwork to fill out.” I nodded and settled myself back to normal, taking a step to give him a free path to the door. 

“Have a good night, Levi. I hope your next expedition goes well.” He nodded and grunted once. 

“Goodnight...Eva.” 

                                                                                                   Chapter Three →

Chapter Masterlist

[bigskydreaming]

Have you seen Linkara's review of The Dark Knight Returns? He goes into why the view of Robin as a soldier, popularized but by no means invented by Miller, is so dangerous.

I have not, but I need to refresh my memory before I go check it out because I’ll either agree with it or be infuriated by it and I can’t remember which just at the moment but would like to before I restart that argument ten years later.

LOL, so like, I knew Linkara yeeears and years ago. We were both regular posters on Gail Simone’s messageboard on CBR like fifteen years ago, maybe longer. Pretty sure we even met in person a couple times at Gail’s annual SDCC breakfast meetups, but not sure. I do know for sure though that he and I were both involved in a three way argument about this very topic with another guy.....I just can not remember if he was the one who agreed with me or the one we were both fighting with about it, LOL. I THINK we were in agreement as while I wasn’t like.....as pro-DC as most YABSers were given that it was Gail’s board and I mostly hung out at the X-boards and just swung by YABS once a week or so BECAUSE I couldn’t stand all the ass-kissing that went on at that board so that DC writers and artists would hang out and post regularly, LOL, like I’m pretty sure I remember Link as being one of the less....vehement of the pro-DC camp.

(Tbh, one of the biggest ways in which I disagreed with Gail on stuff is I UNDERSTOOD her feeling a need to be civil with other DC pros even if she didn’t like them personally, I just....couldn’t manage the same and didn’t feel any desire to try. Like for example, not sure how many people know who Ethan van Sciver is, but he’s a long time high profile DC artist, best known for his GL stuff.....but he used to hang around YABS pretty regularly. EvS is ALSO a haaaaaardcore conservative, Trumpian, and all around terrible person. And he always was.

Like he’d play it civil back then but his opinions were downright hateful on a variety of topics, particularly towards marginalized groups, but he was good at picking just the right moments to half-assedly walk something back the second he took something ‘too far’ - so like, the end result was he said it and everyone saw and remembered, but before anyone could react he’d drop the mea culpa card and be like oh I’m sorry I know that was out of line, I was just caught up in the moment and it’s all good cuz this is all friendly debate anyway right? We’re just talking here.

And he’d pull this crap all the time but because he was a DC pro, people would let him get away with it and warn people off coming down on him so he didn’t feel unwelcome at the board. Now the painfully ironic twist here is that shockingly, totally unexpectedly.....fast forward to about five or six years ago where good old Ethan burns a shit ton of bridges and decides well why not make things a dumpster fire for everyone in my vicinity....and he became the driving force behind a bunch of alt right comic book fans starting their own weak ass version of Gamergate, only called Comicsgate. It never was nearly as....big...as Gamergate was, but it was still ugly. And the thing is, Ethan sicced his sycophants on other industry pros he’d worked with over the years but always disagreed with on politics.....like really let the ugly fly....and most of these pros included Gail as well as a bunch of the other DC professionals from back in the YABS days.

Because thing was....that was literally WHY he’d hung out at YABS so much back then, despite being so far in disagreement with most of the progressive leaning board. He was always just interested in stirring shit up, he never actually had the slightest interest in debate or seeing the other side of anything....he just knew how to play the right cards to get the right people to come to his defense and cool things off rather than run him off, in the name of keeping things civil and such...all so he could start it all up again a couple weeks later.

And this is literally why that kind of thing doesn’t work for me at all. Because he wasn’t really that subtle even then, most people knew all along exactly what he was doing, and letting him get away with shit that would have gotten anyone else banned purely because he was a industry pro just meant that his opportunities to subject anyone in his vicinity to just vile, hateful shit ended up more protected than all the marginalized posters on that board who didn’t come to it to see his shit but had to constantly listen to it anyway because people were more interested in making excuses for him than making it comfortable for everyone else.

And in the end, he ended up turning on the very people who’d protected him from everyone else ripping into his hateful viewpoints with the directness they merited. Which just. Sigh. To me just smacks of a whole lot of unnecessary years spent putting up with his barely veiled bullshit until he didn’t bother even veiling it anymore....even though the reality is NOBODY was ever buying into his veil of it in the first place and we all knew what was right behind it all along. Anyway. Not that it matters LOL, but good old Eth, was one of the primary reasons I decided not to go into comics when I had a couple of opportunities come up, as I decided to focus my efforts on Hollywood at the time instead. Lmao, I figured if I was going to have to keep my mouth shut about coworkers whose opinions I vehemently disagreed with in the name of professionalism, I might as well focus on the profession that would pay me more money to keep that to myself. Look, at least capitalism is useful when ADHD and trying to pretend to be decisive about life choices.)

Long ramble nobody asked for aside, like I said, I can’t remember Link’s take on this particular topic but it’s likely the one I agreed with for the most part. My own take has always been that Miller sucks and if he said it chances are I said he was wrong because he is about everything and my religion is people saying so and by people I mean me. My religion’s also big on self-actualization. Not sure what else, I did just make it up and I think I’ll probably just stop there so I don’t accidentally make it a cult.

But yeah. I mean, maybe it’ll surprise people given how critical I am of the abusive elements of canon, but I’ve never applied the child endangerment/child soldier argument to sidekicks. It’s obviously not that they don’t get hurt in these stories and even traumatized, it’s not that they’re NOT in danger as kids....it’s just why I put such an emphasis on it being their choice to fight crime and be heroes and NOT something that Bruce or any other mentor or parent pushed them into.

Because this is one of the reasons why death of the author more often than not just doesn’t work for me. Authorial intent matters. Readers are always free to interpret a text however they want, regardless of authorial intent....but IF a writer has a specific intent behind a narrative choice, chances are most interpretations that refuse to align themselves with that viewpoint aren’t really all that RELEVANT to the story the writer was trying to tell in the first place.

Don’t get me wrong. Those other interpretations can still exist. They’re allowed to exist. People can abide by them all they want. But if someone’s takeaway from a story is a deliberate choice to read it entirely different from the story the writer intended it to be.....like, their interpretation is all well and good, but it’s not actually at all a RELEVANT commentary on or review of the story the writer was actually writing. They’re not actually saying the writer did a poor job of telling the story or was wrong in how they did it....because they’re not actually talking about the story the writer was actually telling.

Thus their commentary on it exists. But it’s just not that relevant. Because nothing in it even CAN offer an opinion on how else the writer could or should have written that story....because the story they ARE talking about isn’t the story the writer was even interested in writing.

Now, there are some times when authorial intent DOESNT matter. And when criticism of it is entirely fair and earned even if it’s of something the writer didn’t consciously or deliberately write into their story at all. But these things are almost ALWAYS unconscious. Unlike what I was just talking about, where the writer was very consciously writing the story a certain way for a reason, and thus people who aren’t interested in reading the story the way it was written to be read just can’t offer up a commentary that says anything useful or meaningful about the story that was actually written...the flip side of this is when the writer puts things they don’t intend into the text, but still are very much there all the same.

And this sort of thing applies to things like micro aggressions or racism, homophobia, sexism....things where a writer didn’t sit down intending to be offensive or alienate their readers but still put in things that they don’t think to view as offensive due to their own privilege and lack of experience EXPERIENCING the microaggressions that marginalized readers might be all TOO familiar with and thus can’t avoid reading into a passage where the writer might not have INTENDED harm or offense, but delivered it all the same. Because they didn’t think to put it into their story, they weren’t TRYING to....but they didn’t think to avoid putting it in there either, even if it’s because they didn’t know to until it’s pointed out to them that it’s there.

And this also applies to when the writer puts into their story, via whatever viewpoint they’re writing from, things that herald from their own viewpoints, how they view the world, even in terms of unconscious biases or expectations....but things that readers can still interpret as something they vehemently disagree with, even if the narrative seems to condone it. Because a lot of these viewpoints are things where the way they’re written....even just not coming out as clearly not condoning or agreeing it can effectively be read as tacitly condoning it.

So to apply all this to the idea of child sidekicks and child soldiers:

They’re not one and the same, and thus treating them as one and the same or interchangeable is IMO an inherently flawed perspective that doesn’t ever have anything USEFUL or RELEVANT to the stories that most people are trying to tell with child heroes and sidekicks.

With the notable exceptions of Miller, Ennis and certain other writers who by their own admission usually aren’t even trying to write about superheroes but rather deconstructions of the genre as a whole.....the vast majority of comic book writers, even the ones I dislike LOL, aren’t writing about child soldiers when they write characters like the Robins. Because CONSCIOUSLY, with INTENT, they’re already trying to write something completely different:

Child heroes and sidekicks are almost universally written to be child (although to be really fair, for the most part they’re largely teen) empowerment allegories. They’re youth power fantasies.

They’re stories about kids, about teens, getting to be the ones to save the world. About kids who don’t need adults to save them because they save themselves or their friends. Kids saving other people, other kids, grown adults. Stories about child HEROES are written as metaphors of hope for the future and the promise of the younger generations, or power fantasies where kids who feel helpless and powerless in their own lives can read these stories and vicariously imagine through the characters the idea of one day having the power to save themselves or other people, what that would be like, what they’d do with that.

But here’s the important part, and why people interpreting these teen and kid heroes as child soldiers doesn’t really offer relevant commentary to stories that are written to be allegorical youth power fantasies, regardless of authorial intent or death of the author....

And that’s because the key ingredient here, the thing that’s not really up for debate or open to interpretation....is that these stories can ONLY ever be allegorical.

Because like I said before, child heroes and child soldiers are not the same thing. There simply IS NO REAL WORLD EQUIVALENT for child and teen heroes as comic books style them.

And that’s why the fact that with most every child hero in comics, no adult makes them be a hero. They choose that for themselves, it’s almost universally characterized as a self-determination or empowerment moment rather than one of coercion like Miller likes to characterize it. His choice to characterize Bruce essentially drafting Dick as Robin to fight alongside him does nothing to provide commentary on any other superhero story, no matter what he’s told himself or his fans, because his story is the only one where Robin was drafted!

You can’t condemn narrative choices that nobody but you has actually written and then act like you’re saying something about any narrative other than your own fsjsjfshfzgzfhgs.

And you also can’t claim that you’re just seeing in the text something that’s inherently there and the other writers didn’t just see to avoid like I was talking about being a valid critique....because what’s being commented on there isn’t anything that was written unknowingly. Other writers consciously wrote the same things as Miller in terms of a child engaged in all that violence....but they deliberately wrote those moments to be metaphors of a kid that gets to save themselves and other people and CHOSE that, which is inherently opposed to the interpretation of a kid who is ONLY in harm’s way because he was forcibly drafted by a more powerful figure or force who cares neither what he wants or if he gets hurt.

These two ideas are mutually exclusive. They can not coexist in the same narrative because a character can not be powerless and self-empowering about the exact same specific choice. And thus anything that’s said about one of these narratives is inherently unable to say anything that’s relevant about the other....because the other is not written by its writer TO BE the kind of narrative that particular commentary is dissecting. It’s not TRYING to be that narrative, so no review of it can possibly say how flawed it’s execution is of an idea it’s not actually trying to execute.

And the differences between child heroes and child soldiers are not just limited to choosing that or being drafted and these other differences are equally key.

The biggest being that child heroes can not be seen as ‘basically’ the same thing as child soldiers.....UNLESS you are also perceiving adult heroes as basically the same thing as adult soldiers. And not even law enforcement or police or temporarily deputized or whatever else you want to spin it as....SOLDIERS, specifically. You don’t get to bring up something as charged as child soldiers and then get vague with your terminology when the close scrutiny that brings to your analogy stops working in your favor.

If sidekicks are child soldiers then you must in conjunction view adult superheroes as soldiers. And not in the abstract one man war on crime way Miller likes to consider Batman in his attempted deconstruction of superheroes. ACTUAL soldiers. If there’s no room in your comparison for child heroes to differentiate from real world child soldiers, there’s no wiggle room for the adults either.

And again, except for Miller, Ennis and specific others who by their own admissions are not TRYING to view superheroes the same way most other comic writers are, but fail to see that genre conventions are largely interpretive and thus seeing room for different interpretations of superheroes isn’t actually a commentary on how other people see and write those same heroes....like except for these select few, most writers are not writing superhero soldiers unless they’re Captain America or Captain Atom. Yes I know there are other superhero soldiers but let me be pithy. Even those aren’t really the same as their real world equivalents.

See, real soldiers don’t make distinctions about whether or not they’re willing to use guns. Their personal views on killing are not prioritized over whether they’ve been told to use lethal force to accomplish their objective. They have a chain of command. No matter the rationalization, they pledge their loyalty to singular nations and the aims and objectives of those specific nations over the abstract of acting in defense of the whole world.

Now again, maybe that applies to Captain Atom, but for the most part can you say the majority of comic book writers are TRYING to write Superman, Batman, Green Arrow, Wonder Woman etc through that lens? No. So while Miller really thinks he said something when he wrote his Batman with guns, fighting in the Middle East, killing people left and right, none of that actually ‘showed’ people that at the end of the day, Batman is no conceptually different from a real world soldier like. No all he actually did was write his own take on Batman, and said look, he’s a gun toting murderous asshole, huzzah I have deconstructed the modern superhero!

Like. Shut up Miller. Honestly.

But seriously. Superheroes do not have a real world equivalent and neither do child heroes. Even when it comes to nonpowered ones like the Batfam, they’re still deliberately written in a larger than life, four color perspective that requires a suspension of disbelief at the front door. We ALL know and understand that they aren’t a blue print for how to go out and be a real world vigilante. Even real world vigilantes exist. But they don’t look anything like the Batfam and it’s disingenuous to pretend they do for the sake of teh discourse. Nobody honestly believes that there is even the OPTION of going out one day and deciding to become a comic book style vigilante like one of the Batfam. It’s why even they’re termed superheroes despite the lack of superpowers. On a CONCEPTUAL level it’s understood that the stories being told about them require an extrahuman medium. You can not simultaneously write characters according to a mythic scale but then attempt to interpret that very writing on a real world one. It doesn’t work.

Which brings me to my final piece of this pie. Or puzzle. Idk I’ve been doing this response for awhile I forget what this is.

And that is again, the difference between interpreting a story in a way the author probably didn’t intend and understanding when a story isn’t meant to be interpreted in the way you’re trying to.

And this difference is how I can understand and reconcile the idea that it’s not inherently abusive for Bruce to allow his kids to fight crime at all, even though that would inherently be child endangerment in the real world, but at the same time, I can view him as abusive in other ways that don’t make allowances for the differences between real life and comics.

Basically it boils down to: CAN this specific element of a story be duplicated in real life or mirror a real life action or idea? Is there a direct parallel to a real world equivalent at all?

I can view Bruce fighting crime or saving the world alongside a child Robin without viewing that as child endangerment or inherently abusive, even when Robin gets hurt in the process....because there is no real world equivalent to those parts of a story. NO ONE, child or adult, is going out there and doing those things Batman and Robin style. Even the people who dress up in their own real life vigilante personas basically just do niche neighborhood things like walk people home from the bar. And even people doing real life vigilantism in terms of taking out criminals, like, that’s usually more of a personal revenge thing and not one where they’re trying to attract attention via a costumed persona. When you think real world Batman and Robin, nothing comes to mind for a reason.

And thus this says nothing inherently abusive about their dynamic, even according to real life parallels of child endangerment, because it’s not a real scenario. And thus it’s not TRYING to say anything about real life. It’s innately allegorical. It’s power fantasy emphasis on the fantasy.

In contrast, when you have something like Bruce hitting one of his kids.....no matter who the characters are, that specific interaction and the dynamic it presents DOES have a real world equivalent. That’s just parent/child abuse. And thus even if the writer didn’t intend for it to be interpreted that way, it’s still a valid interpretation. If it looks like a parent hitting their child, you can call it a parent hitting a child.

Batman and Robin fighting killer mind controlled plants together? Can’t happen. I’m not going to call it child endangerment when it’s not a realistic scenario and not meant to be, and I’ve already been presented with a valid alternative interpretation of this being a child empowered to help save people alongside his superhero father. There’s no point in condemning a dynamic that CANT be translated to a non allegory in real life.

But Bruce hitting his son? A father no matter how good hearted normally, being affected by extreme stress or grief or something else that makes his behavior take a turn for the worse and reach a point where he physically lashes out even if he never would have in the past? Nothing remotely allegorical about that. That story has too many real world equivalents to dismiss as having nothing to say about abuse in real life. Even if the writer didn’t intend for this to read as abusive because they were thinking of how much worse Dick has been hurt fighting alongside Bruce and never held that against him even though technically it was Bruce letting him get hurt....doesn’t matter. That interpretation still requires viewing through a lens that can’t exist in reality. No kid can ever excuse a parent hitting them by thinking of how much worse they got hurt taking down their local mob together and if he didn’t blame his dad for that cuz he wanted to do it to help people then how can he blame his dad for hurting him in a moment of anger? Umm. Doesn’t track see? They’re not the same thing at all.

Or another one that really bugs....I’ve heard people defend shipping a Robin while underage with an adult by saying if they’re old enough to make the choice to risk their life and have that choice respected, they’re old enough to choose who they want to be with. Umm. No. That’s not just apples and oranges that’s genetically modified grapes and seventeenth century cannonballs.

That logic doesn’t apply because neither of those things is the underage character choosing ANYTHING. They’re fictional. Everything they choose is just what their writer wrote them choosing. But again, one of those choices is one that an underage reader CANT choose in real life and have respected by every adult in their life, and thus will never have a bearing on their life as anything BUT an allegory they have to interpret and translate into something actionable they can apply to their life and choices. The other choice is them being written as presented with an option that’s actually a textbook real life grooming technique and something abusers use to justify the relationship they’re trying to cultivate with a minor by saying aren’t you mature for your age, aren’t you old enough to know what you want or to do this or that in which case you should be old enough to make this choice?

See the difference? Putting on a cape and going out to fight robots? Not directly applicable. Saying yes to the grown man saying he wants to have sex with you and thinks you’re old enough given this other choice you’ve made that highlights your maturity? That’s a choice that can be presented both to a Robin or a real life minor, but a writer justifying that choice for that Robin by saying well he’s already previously made this other choice that has no real life equivalent.....that creates a pretty misleading interpretation to people reading that story and not stopping to think through the distinctions between what KINDS of choices the writer is presenting these characters with and then justifying via their narrative.

And while I haven’t watched the video you’re referencing, anon, I would definitely agree that this is an example of how viewing child heroes as child soldiers is....not great. Aside from being cynical, misusing the idea of death of the author and helping to validate Miller’s choices and thus ego which is NEVER a good look LOL....it also intentionally or not paves the way for putting fictional types and MEANS of harm on an even playing field with real life ones and acting like it’s all one and the same with no distinctions to be drawn. And this doesn’t actually offer anything substantive or constructive about holding characters accountable for reasonable expectations of harm, when the sources of harm have no reasonable equivalent and thus only exist in the medium of being a youth power fantasy in which the child involved is fictional and can’t truly be harmed, with the harm done the second the scene ends and where the character can be back in fighting form the very next scene. Thus the only lingering element there IS the power fantasy.

Nope, all it actually does is muddy the waters in the REVERSE, and make it so it’s actually easier to justify or rationalize types and means of harm that DO have a real world equivalent, but by pointing to examples from a fictional medium and emphasizing the fictional character’s lack of being harmed while de-emphasizing the fact that the writer has full control over depicting this in a solely positive light that doesn’t ALLOW the fictional character any angle from which to voice that this CAN result in harm when not written for fictional characters according to a writer’s specific intent.

And that’s that about that. My opinion: you have it.

[jamesbi-canonbarnes]

I'm having trouble connecting the emotional through line between episodes 2 and 3. In the therapy session Sam tells Bucky they can just finish the mission and then they're done with each other, after that it seems like things have cooled a bit and Bucky even starts to say, "I feel awful" before they get interrupted by Walker. Then in 3 things seems relatively fine between and they even (especially Sam) show some concern for the other?? And Bucky totally still not trying to understand Sam's POV

Ok ok mood. I’m not an expert on writing, but I do have lots of thoughts on this, so lemme talk this through w you (long post ahead). Some of these thoughts are going to be theorizing super hard about what’s going to happen in future eps so for sure take that with a grain of salt.

IMO for a show where the most interesting thing is literally just the emotional states of these two men and how they relate to each other through those emotions, their emotional arcs are not nearly pointed enough for my taste...I suspect that’s partly because we’re pulled back and forth between the more lighthearted banter and the more heartfelt expressions of their internal lives. But also bc, I think, the whole thing is that these two CANT communicate because if they DO, their emotional states will reach RESOLUTION too quickly.

And IMO, I actually think it’s the therapy scene alone that is throwing the balance off leading up to 3. I didn’t feel like threatening not to ever see each other again was earned, or at least it wasn’t clear to me where it’s coming from writing-wise. (Not that I wouldn’t support Sam cutting himself off from the toxicity of someone else’s unfair expectations, if this were real life and not a function of a written story). It just feels too far a swing of the pendulum compared to directly before and after. Sam just saved Bucky, and yes he never got to finish railing Bucky over Isaiah, but *because* that argument didn’t hit its crux, I don’t think it’s enough for most viewers to explain the kind of statement Sam makes in the therapy scene. Yes Sam does keep shutting Bucky down in a lot of ways, but we also know that before Bucky confronted him in episode 2, he was doing the opposite and trying to reach out to Bucky. So it feels a bit confusing to me. I don’t know what Sam wants, besides to be left alone, and that itself feels neither genuine nor like good enough motivation on a character level for this story. So. In lieu of any other story reason, I guess I think Sam’s reaction in the therapy scene is a way to artificially raise the emotional stakes so that the eventual resolution is more satisfying. That’s the only thing I can think, although if that’s the case, they started building back up extremely quickly.

Bc you’re absolutely correct, immediately after that therapy scene, Bucky is upset but clearly wants to communicate that to Sam, contrary to any agreement to squash it and move on. And though there’s no time for dialogue then, they approach walker/Hoskins essentially a united (though frustrated) front. And then after that and all through ep 3, though they are functionally on opposite sides of the entire zemo argument in every way, Sam basically rolls over repeatedly throughout and actually ends up expressing more care for Bucky than we’ve previously seen and also opens up to him more... and IMO bucky breaking zemo out of prison without asking and with clear premeditation was a major violation of trust, for which Sam was not afforded the opportunity to express proportional ire. (For me Bucky’s speech there asking Sam to do it for him did not hit as reasonable motivation for sam). You would think after the level of ire sam expressed to bucky’s genuine (though self centered) vulnerability in the therapy session, the level of ire to bucky’s lies and even “betrayal” (as I see it) would be notable. It should be at least above essentially saying “you’re dead to me once your usefulness runs out” which I think is the dark but fair implication of “let’s just finish this and never speak again” or whatever he said in the therapy scene. Instead he says a reluctant version of “ok, I’ll do exactly what I just explicitly said I didn’t want to do, just because you asked.”

The thing is, clearly neither of them actually hate each other. They have both repeatedly shown genuine care for the other. So why is the animosity even happening?

The emotional throughlines should help us figure that out, and vice versa. So what I’m thinking is, a throughline has to have a beginning and an end, and figuring out those can help you figure out what the points in the middle should be. Here the beginning of Bucky’s emotional throughline w Sam is clearly from a starting point of straight up misplacing his grief and aggression onto Sam, bc he’s projecting Sam as the distant figurehead of stability to replace Steve. His not understanding Sam on a personal level is the primary obstacle to his realizing and resolving that entire emotional throughline, thus the end point of the throughline necessarily requires passing through Bucky understanding Sam’s POV and empathizing with Sam. In my prediction, that empathy leads to self actualization through purposefully accessing his own feelings (rather than letting his blocked emotions break through and then ignoring both the cause and consequences of them). Then he can start down a path of true restitution leading to his own healing through healing his relationships.

IMO bucky has never hated Sam. He has always fully just been jealous of him. Jealous of how happy he is, how few problems he pretends to have, and his relationship with Steve, if you want to go there.

So because Bucky does not hate Sam, there isn’t really anywhere to go after hitting the mark of seeing Sam’s POV... besides, essentially, restitution as resolution. Bc it’s through that realization>restitution that Bucky’s going to have to face the actual issue, of who he actually hates. Only then can he heal. He doesn’t have to forgive Sam. He has to forgive himself. So that he can restore himself, which he can only do after restoring Sam.

(And, if they’re really going to go there, he has to forgive Steve. I’m unsure if that’s going to be directly drawn for us or not)

I think that bucky’s throughline will resolve itself relatively quickly after Sam gets what he needs from Bucky, hence why he can’t have it yet. So in the meantime, Bucky comes off as frankly a bad friend who is self absorbed/entitled and unwilling to unlearn white supremacy bc it requires uncomfortable empathy with a Black man.

Sam’s emotional throughline as filtered through how he relates to Bucky is a little harder for me to grasp, I’ll be honest. Obviously the end point the emotional throughline has to underline is accepting the mantle of captain America (accepting himself?) So maybe that is woven among the throughline of his journey to accepting Bucky as an ally??, but I’m not sure what the starting point even is to be honest.

I do think that what is clearer (at least to me, and maybe this is only applicable to me?) about Sam is that we as the informed audience already know an important part of why he gave up the shield. It’s very much about race. Sam has not expressed that to Bucky, but we know it. Bucky has no idea that this is about race—or more accurately, that’s it’s about trauma regarding race. He hasn’t connected Sam’s ultimate motivation to Sam’s statements and experience re: race. Sam has certainly expressed anger and hurt, but he hasn’t connected them to race and then to the symbol of captain America for Bucky, whereas they’re already connected for many viewers. I’m not going to give Bucky a pass for not connecting them because that type of ignorance is not neutral. But he clearly does not know, and he DOES keep asking. He has asked multiple times in words why Sam gave up the shield. But instead of giving a direct answer, Sam continues to shut him down, each time literally by refusing to speak and walking away. Now I tend to agree with Sam that it’s none of his business. Sam shouldn’t have to bare his trauma to explain something to Bucky just because Bucky wants him to. Especially when Bucky has not indicated that he’s willing or able to empathize with the reason. And on top of that, it being something sam knows Bucky cannot fully understand? I mean, I’m on Sam’s side here.

But the thing is, the show is setting it up so that Sam has to open up. He has to let Torres touch his machinery (metaphorically) he has to let Bucky get close to him (metaphorically). Sam has to let others in and he has to do it for himself, for his own healing. But I’m not yet sure why that’s so important for his journey, besides the obvious being this is a story about how to heal from trauma from every side.

So right now I think we’re just seeing Sam continue to drop hints both about what his trauma is and about the fact that he cares for Bucky, bc those are the important things for his resolution. This is continuing despite the therapy scene and not because of it, which I find odd, from a writing perspective. And we’re seeing Bucky miss a lot of those hints, bc he’s too busy being defensive to take them as genuine expressions of what they are, of exactly what he’s asking of Sam. That *does* make sense to me from a writing perspective. Because once he understands Sam’s POV, the throughline has to move forward toward resolution.

Idk. I just am not sure that I’m really getting Sam’s arc yet. That’s not to say that it’s not emotionally hitting, necessarily, bc I am firmly finding myself behind Sam.

And allllll of that is just to say: I agree that the emotional throughline feels a bit wobbly here, and I don’t have a way to reconcile it. I will take further suggestions if anyone has them.

[chocoholicannanymous]

...As Stupid Does (Teen Wolf) 19/19

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything – except for a red hoodie...

This is the final part of this story, and this ‘verse. A bit bittersweet, but honestly? So much relief too. Because as much as I never wanted to abandon this story I was worried that I’d never pull together the focus and energy to connect scattered paragraphs and thoughts into a complete ending.

Here it is though. I hope those of you reading this enjoy it.

Part 18, Part 17, Part 16, Part 15, Part 14, Part 13,  Part 12,  Part 11,  Part 10,  Interlude,  Part 9, Part 8d, Part 8c, Part 8b, Part 8a, Part 7, Part 6, Part 5,Part 4,Part 3, Part 2, Part 1,Not Stupid, Stupid Is… and pre-verse ficlet I’m Stupid (Don’t Worry ‘Bout Me)…

Epilogue

Here's the thing: Stiles is a lucky guy. He's smart enough to realize exactly how lucky.

He's three years through a four year college degree, with a job waiting for him after graduation. His relationship with his dad is stronger than ever. He's got a home also waiting for him, one that's surrounded by two packs full of 'wolves.

He's also got Derek.

And the thing is, he and Derek? They're good together. Like really, really, almost disgustingly good. They weren't back in Beacon Hills. They kind of weren't when they decided to try again, for real this time.

They had spent their first year together fucking up, and god, the amount of times Stiles had questioned not just his sanity in doing this but also his intelligence. But during that year they also started working together, begun healing old hurts and smoothing down their rough edges, and found a way to fit together.

Once that year was over they'd sat down and talked things through.

Okay, they'd screamed some too, and once Stiles had even walked out. But the important thing is that he'd done so in a mature way. He'd told Derek that he was walking out, why he was doing so and that he was coming back once he'd cooled off. And then he'd kept his word.

And they'd done it on their own. No prompting, no mediating, no one coming in to send them to separate corners or patch them up. Stiles is still hella proud of that.

It's been three years now, and as far as Stiles is concerned he's got an amazing boyfriend that he fully expects to spend the rest of his life with.

If anyone had told him this years ago, when Scott had just been bitten and they were scrambling to keep their heads above water – at one point literally – Stiles would not have believed it. At one point he'd have taken violently offense, even without being told said boyfriend would be Derek.

Things have changed. He has changed. Derek has changed. But most importantly? They've changed together.

These days Derek has enough of a handle on himself to not need magic or therapy to make it through a visit. He's still seeing Dr Bianchi occasionally, as is Stiles, but they're both down to a handful of times per year.

And it's not just when it comes to the two of them that Derek has improved. Stiles gets regular reports from Scott, and it's obvious that Derek's a good Alpha these days. Sure, he will only stay an Alpha for a little while longer before handing it over to Cora, but that doesn't diminish his accomplishment. Everyone in a pack benefits from a good, steady Alpha.

Just like Cora benefits from a brother who is all these things.

Yeah, life is good.

The only dark cloud on Stiles's horizon is that he's going to have to go back to Beacon Hills.

Returning to Beacon Hills is, yeah okay, it's not the last thing Stiles wants to do. Reliving the Alpha pack, the kanima, Kate, Allison, Gerard, Peter (though that one's a firm “against” on returning too), reliving his mother's death, living through his dad's death, killing someone, almost killing someone, losing his pack, losing Embry... There are a lot of thing that Stiles wants even less.

But returning to Beacon Hills, even for a weekend, does come very low on the list. Distance has not made Stiles' heart fonder. Returning sadly isn't exactly optional.

Sure, no one's forcing him, but that doesn't mean staying away is an alternative. Not this time. Because Scott is getting married. Scott, who's still only 21 for another couple of weeks, and who used to think that werewolves were the worst (or second worst depending on how angry he was with Derek that day), who believed that he didn't need an Alpha and that Allison had hung the moon, is getting married to a werewolf, one that's not only Derek's sister, but also his soon-to-be Alpha.

And of course said wedding has to take place in Beacon Hills.

Now, Stiles has done his best to talk Scott into eloping, has tried since Scott called him with the news that Cora had said yes, but. Apparently Scott can't see the brilliance in eloping, not even with Stiles's excellent arguments.

“You, me, your mom, abuela Delgado, Derek and Cora. Just the family. No douche pack.”

“What about Peter?”

Seriously? The last thing Stiles had expected to need to justify is why leaving Peter out of, well, everything is a good idea.

“No uncle psycho either. He doesn't qualify as family.”

There's a sound that Stiles knows from years of being Scott's friend means he's nodding in agreement.

“Okay, true. What about dad though?”

“Oh, you know, I figured he'd be my plus one.” That came out flippantly, because he knows there's no way Scott wouldn't invite his dad regardless.

“No, Stiles, what about my dad?”

“He doesn't qualify as family either.”

The words come out before Stiles can filter himself, and he kind of wishes he could take them back, except...

“Look, can I be brutal here? I mean, we both know I'm going to be honest so... When's the last time you saw agent McCall?”

“There was a thing junior year, he came here to investigate.”

Not what he was asking, but a very telling answer.

“Okay, and when's the last time you saw him in his capacity as your dad? Hell, when's the last time you spoke to him? Does he even know about Cora?”

Scott evades the questions, which again: telling.

“He's my dad though, doesn't that kind of mean I have to invite him?”

Stiles snorts. As if.

“I don't see why. Sure, he's 50 % of your genepool, but is he really your dad? I mean, I can't remember the last time he and you shared anything other than your last name, and we both know that's not going to be true for much longer.”

“Yeah, okay, you have a point. He's not getting an invite. That doesn't mean we're eloping though, Stiles. Cora deserves a proper wedding, and I'm going to give her that. Now, you convince her that eloping's a good idea and we can talk about it again, but I'm not risking making her mad at me just because you don't want to subject yourself to Isaac. At least Jackson won't be invited?”

“Small favors, man. Small favors.”

There's another one of Scott's agreement noises before the conversation had moved on.

Of course, Cora had been an even tougher nut to crack than Scott, and Stiles had retreated ungracefully once she'd started threatening his balls.

Really, there was no need to go there. If for no other reason, well, shouldn't she leave the goods intact for Derek's sake?

Of course, Stiles can understand why she's unwilling to let go of the only Hale tradition she still can have, namely getting married in the preserve and in the presence of pack. Every Hale has done so for over 200 years, before they were even called Hale.

(Stiles listens to Derek explain, haltingly, and decides to admit defeat. At least Derek's willing to bypass that tradition, should they one day decide to marry. He'll take that win and stop pestering Cora.)

So, anyway. There's no talking the lovely couple into eloping. Which means like it or not – and trust him, it's not – Stiles is going back. Because it's Scott.

There's also the fact that in a strange way Stiles has waited for this wedding as long as Scott has. When he and Derek had gotten back together the plan had been for Cora to graduate, then take over the Alpha spark and the pack. Two years had felt long, but doable.

And then Cora had asked for more time.

She'd gone straight from school to working at the Beacon Hills sheriff's department and had felt she needed to adjust a little better to that before taking on something new. It'd been reasonable, and more importantly: Derek had been almost unable to deny his sister anything after getting her back from the dead (except you know, figuratively speaking, unlike a certain other family member).

So they'd talked it over and agreed to give Cora another year, moving the transfer to after the wedding. It makes, Stiles thinks, for one hell of a wedding present. If that's good or bad, eh. Who knows.

He'd taken on more classes in order to have a distraction, had worked himself to the point of exhaustion more than once, and nearly driven the people around him crazy. It'd been more than a little overkill, he admits now, but it had kept him from missing Derek too much. It also means he'll be able to slow down a little his final year.

Or take on whatever shiny but totally unnecessary new class catches his eye, probably, but. He pretends he'll take it easy. Derek pretends to believe him. Derek's also made it clear he's going to move to Seattle once he can leave Beacon Hills, and stay there as long as Stiles does. They both pretend it's not partially to keep Stiles from studying himself into the hospital.

Anyway. He's just, you know, going to have to count small favors. The first one being that Jackson really isn't invited. The second is that Lydia, who was, isn't coming either. Once Stiles had gotten over his crush on her he'd kept a measure of fond respect for the person he'd learned existed behind Lydia's facades, even though they'd never really become friends. That didn't change the fact that her not coming was a relief – she's too smart, sees too much, and he would hate for her to figure things out.

Another person not coming is Danny who's transferred his allegiance to the pack near his college where he's, completely coincidentally Stiles is sure, dating the Alpha's grandson. He'd been invited as a courtesy, but told he couldn't bring his boyfriend, and had wisely chosen not to accept. Cora hates him, and he apparently knows it, and Scott isn't to fond of him either.

Those really are small favors though.

A slightly bigger one is the fact that Deaton isn't coming. Not only does he no longer live in Beacon Hills, but he hasn't been invited. While no one had been able to prove that there had been magic on Scott, his opinions on both Derek and Deaton had changed a little too much for comfort after first moving away and then beginning to meditate. Even Scott had noticed, and gotten suspicious.

In the end there had been no protests from Scott as Derek and Cora had ended Deaton's lease of the land for his practice – land he had been granted use of as the Hale pack's emissary and then had kept using free of charge since the fire, knowing he wasn't keeping to the agreement. Once he'd been called on it, Deaton had packed up, sold his home, and moved away.

No one misses him – not even Scott.

However none of that changes the fact that Beacon Hills still has Peter Hale, who is most certainly both invited to the wedding and attending, and who Stiles still sees as a threat. Because, well, he's not stupid.

Peter Hale will stop being a threat the day he dies, and maybe not even then. (Next time, Stiles has promised himself, he's going to make sure Peter gets the Aiden treatment.)

And Stiles is going to willingly place himself within striking distance from said threat, without a protector on hand.

He hadn't even thought about it at first, just assuming he'd have Embry to keep him safe, but it hadn't taken long to realize that bringing Embry to Scott's wedding wasn't an option.

First of all there's the fact that while neither Derek or Cora can feel the supernatural in the LaPush 'wolves unless they're shifting Peter might. Peter, who's not only older and has had the kind of training Derek never got but who also has access to a lot of the Hale pack's lore which Derek had thought lost in the fire. Stiles isn't willing to take a chance on that knowledge not containing something to help Peter identify the LaPush shifters. (This is, incidentally, one of the reasons Stiles is happy Deaton is gone. He too knows too much for Stiles to trust he wouldn't be able identify another kind of shifter.)

Second there's the fact that every single pack member is visibly Native American, and there are only so many tribes. Peter – or Danny for that matter, even though he's not going to be present, but he's more of an annoyance – could locate Stiles far too easily easily with that kind of information.

There's also the fact that Embry would be on a hair trigger simply because Stiles will be, and might shift and expose them.

Most importantly though is that bringing what would look like a plus one to Cora's wedding would be an insult. Not just to her, who's only just gotten to the point where she accepts that Stiles is in her brother's life for good, but also to Derek. Yes, everyone who matters knows that Embry's relationship with Stiles is as platonic as can be, but that doesn't change anything. They smell enough like each other for wolfy noses to know they're not casual acquaintances, and chances are there would be quite a bit of ribbing and speculation. Derek shouldn't have to listen to that, or for that matter look at Stiles walking around with another man when he himself has to hide what they are to each other. Desire for protection or not, Stiles just isn't willing to do that to Derek.

It's possible that Embry could have skated by as the son of John Stilinski's fiancée – and wow, Stiles still hasn't gotten used to referring to Tiffany Call that way (and damn, does that make him glad that he and Embry are platonic, because that's a little to incestuous even as is). Scott would have been okay with both of them coming, had even brought it up, but everyone involved is aware that it'd make Melissa feel uncomfortable. Regardless, Tiffany's not coming either. Like with Embry there's no way of hiding that she's native, making her too easily identifiable. There's also the fact that it just isn't safe.

Tiffany is many things, and a stronger woman than most, but she's not a fighter. If things go wrong she would be vulnerable, and a liability.

Bringing someone other than Embry means the same risk of discovery.

So instead of a werewolf bodyguard or ten Stiles has his dad.

Yeah.

There's also the fact that in the interest of keeping secrets Stiles can't even use the silver lining of more time with Derek. Letting anyone from that pack know of their connection is bad, but the thought of letting Peter know makes Stiles's blood run cold. That means he's going to be within minutes of his boyfriend for days, and yet he's not going to get hugs, or kisses, or a bedpartner. He's going to be at a wedding along with his romantic partner, while pretending he's single.

Yeah.

It's going to suck.

O--o---o--O

The wedding is missing a lot of traditional parts. It's understandable, really, and not just because both bride and groom along with several guests are werewolves. It's just... Cora doesn't have a father to give her away, or dance with her. She doesn't have a mother to support her, an inherited dress or heirloom jewelry. She doesn't have a best friend to be her maid of honor. What she's got is a brother whose Alpha she'll be within days and an uncle that she doesn't trust as far as she can throw him. Or well, as far as Stiles could throw him.

So they adjust.

No one gives Cora away. Instead she and Scott walk up the isle – isle, forest path, same thing – together. Neither of them have attendants, and Melissa McCall's wedding dress stays in its garment bag.

The wedding is small and intimate, with only a handful of guests outside of the pack – Stiles, John, Melissa, abuela Delgado and two 'wolves from Cora's South American pack. It takes place in a glade just on the edge of the preserve and the only decorations are wild flowers and boughs of leaves.

It's scaled-down, but also beautiful in its simplicity, because no one can doubt that these are two people who love each other deeply.

Stiles has to blink away tears at more than one time. His friend, his brother, is promising to love, cherish and honor his girl, and is being promised the same in return. There's not a doubt in Stiles's mind that when they swear to do so until death do them part they mean it. This, he knows, is Scott's life now. It's the life and future he deserves. It's enough to make Stiles's heart swell with love.

And then it hits him. With a little luck that'll be him in a not too distant future. He has to look away not to betray himself by staring lovingly at Derek.

Stiles walks through the door to the cabin he's sharing with his dad. He's tired, both because of emotion and vigilance. His dad's still back at the wedding, catching up with Melissa, but Stiles doesn't have the energy. He's spent the day keeping one eye on the pack, and Peter in particular, and generally hating that he's back in Beacon Hills while loving that he's able to be here for Scott.

It's been exhausting.

Just about everyone else is still celebrating, but once Scott and Cora had left to change clothes and go on their honeymoon Stiles had left too. Pretending that he doesn't want to kill Peter, or kiss Derek, has taken it out of him and he can't do it any longer. He's going back home tomorrow and he can't spend another minute being that close to Derek without being able to be with him. That it'll be at least a month, probably two or more, before he can see Derek again is making it even harder.

As far as everyone but him and Derek knows Scott and Cora are going on an actual honeymoon, for a whole month. The truth is that they'll be gone for a week before sneaking back. The rest of the time will be spent in recovery and training after Derek transfers the Alpha spark. Cora will come back as the new Hale Alpha, but that doesn't mean Derek will be free to leave.

There will be unrest in a pack with a new Alpha, even under the best of circumstances, and these – as so often for them – are not. Cora will need Derek by her side, to support her and calm the pack. Maybe she'll also need him to help take down threats thinking to take advantage of a novice Alpha. Maybe they'll have to deal with Peter...

It'll be a little while yet before Derek will be free of Beacon Hills.

So Stiles is sad, and he's got a headache and he just wants to take some pills, text Embry some and then sleep.

After he's re-ringed the cabin with mountain ash of course.

Stiles pulls his phone out of its pocket, takes off his jacket and goes to throw it at the chair before thinking twice. It's a decent suit jacket and if he treats it right he won't need to go suit shopping again in years. Coat hanger it is.

He turn towards the clothes rack, his brain three steps ahead, and hits a wall, his phone clattering to the floor.

Only there's no wall there.

He scrambles backwards, trying to put as much space as he can between himself and the threat and swears. The door is out of reach and he's trapped.

“Hello Stiles.”

Fuck.

“Peter.”

He flicks through scenarios in his head, trying to figure out how to get out of this, but he keeps running into mental walls.

Stiles is a lot better trained than when he left Beacon Hills, in ways Peter knows nothing about. Under the right circumstances he might have a chance.

These are not.

He's in close quarters with Peter, unable to reach the door before the 'wolf can get to him. He's mostly unarmed due to being dressed for a wedding, and what he does have isn't as easily accessible as he'd like.

Plus it's Peter.

Stiles is going to assume that everything he thinks he knows about Peter's skills and strength is wrong. To do anything else would be to sign his own death warrant. Derek might be clouded by memories of “uncle Peter”, but Stiles has never forgotten the psychopathic killer he'd first encountered.

No, training or no training, Stiles's one real advantage is having a pack, and what being part of it means. Unfortunately he has no idea if it'll be enough.

“Shouldn't you be with the pack, or, I don't know, in your own home? Not breaking and entering somewhere you're definitely not welcome.”

“Oh, but it's not breaking and entering if you have a key.” Which, fuck, did Peter kill someone to get his hands on a backup key? “Besides, I didn't get a chance to talk to you earlier. It's been so long, Stiles, won't you humor me? We're practically old friends, are we not? It'll be like old times.”

“You're crazy.”

“Now now Stiles. That's not very nice of you.”

Stiles snorts, because nice? Not really in his wheelhouse.

“You think I care? When it comes to you? Come now, I said crazy, not stupid.”

Because unfortunately Peter is anything but, making him even more dangerous. Still, the wolf just smirks a little at Stiles's defiance.

“I'm afraid that answer just isn't acceptable. See, I really do need to talk to you. Or well, I need you. I'd like it if you talked to me, but I'll manage either way. You however... You really would do well to humor me.”

Then Peter looks at him, and oh shit. His eyes are flashing back and forth between the electric blue that had looked so good on Derek and a sickly red.

It takes nothing to figure it out.

Peter had called him the clever one, and meant it in a mocking way. But the reality is that Stiles is clever, and knows how to put puzzle pieces together.

And these particular puzzle pieces... Peter came back to life using not only Lydia but also Derek – had drained Derek of life and strength and power, and had tried to steal the Alpha power too.

And afterwards Derek had changed. Had grown more volatile, more likely to hurt someone – more unstable.

Stiles is willing to bet Peter had had a bit more success than they'd realized, that he'd managed to siphon off some of the Alpha power and keep it.

That would explain why Derek had acted the way he had. Why he'd been so easily influenced by the pack's negativity. Why Derek had sometimes acted more like Peter than like himself.

It would definitely explain how the Alpha power had become this unstable, negative force in Derek that he felt was fighting him. He is sharing it with Peter. And apparently Peter is done sharing. Stiles is uncomfortably aware of exactly how little defense he has to put up in regards to a Peter who is no longer hiding his power, who is no longer playing weak and damaged.

The only reason he's still alive is so Peter can use him against Derek.

Because even holding a part of the Hale Alpha spark Peter isn't going to just challenge Derek for the rest of it, or meet him in a fair fight. It's not how he works. Peter doesn't believe in fair, and wants the odds as weighted in his favor as possible. Using Stiles as bait, or whatever, is a way of doing that. There's also the fact that Derek has been getting stronger and better as an Alpha, leaving Peter needing every advantage he could. Even an ambush might not give him the upper hand.

Well, Stiles is going to do what he can to even out the odds a bit.

It helps that he has no reason to believe Peter will let him go after killing Derek. He'll either be dead too, or bitten without concern for his wishes, and forced to obey Peter. His dad will probably be used against him – or, again, killed outright.

Not fighting won't save him – it'll only make it easier for Peter.

“You kept some of the Alpha spark after using Derek to come back to life.”

“Ah. You really are clever. Too bad you've always wasted that cleverness on my failure of a beta and my useless nephew. Yes, I kept some. It should have been mine altogether, but something went wrong.

“Doesn't matter though, because I'm getting it back. I'm getting it all back tonight.”

Stiles stiffens. That sounds really not good.

“I was willing to be patient. To wait for it. Derek isn't made to be Alpha, and I've always known that sooner or later he'd get himself killed, especially the way kept attracting hunters. I could wait. After all, I had enough power to get through most. Especially after getting a little boost.”

That's what happened to miss Blake, Stiles thinks. He doesn't say anything though. It's not time to upset the balance. Not yet.

“It was possible one of the others would have had enough and killed him, but chances were the Alpha spark would have gone to me either way. If not,” Peter shrugs, “a new Alpha, who doesn't know how to deal with the change in their senses? Easy to kill.”

Stiles can see it happen just like that too, unfortunately.

“Everything was going according to plan too, with Derek growing more and more unstable. Given a little more time I might even have been able to talk him into giving up the spark voluntarily.” Like hell he would have. “And then my dear, dear niece came back to life.”

There's something in Peter's voice with couple with the moue he makes that gives Stiles another flash of insight.

“You resent Cora for being alive. You resent her for surviving the fire.”

Peter almost slips into a roar.

“She abandoned me!”

“She was a child! I know you were trained to hide from hunters, to go to ground and stay there until the threat was over. Are you blaming her for doing what she's been told?”

“You go to ground, yes. And then you come back. You don't abandon your pack.”

And wow, hearing that shit from the wolf who killed one niece, tried to kill a nephew, and had just explained how he had been waiting to try again... Yeah, Peter Hale is a hypocrite on top of being fucking insane.

“She abandoned us, and then when she comes crawling back,” which, totally not how it had actually happened, “that useless weakling wants to reward her for it by passing the Alpha spark to her. And they expect me to just take it?”

Fuck. The biggest flaw in the plan had always been the risk of Peter finding out and getting mad. There are contingency plans, sure, but none of them counted for quite this.

“I should have been Alpha after Talia. Laura was just as weak, just as unsuitable, as Derek. She didn't have it in her to take vengeance for our family – she just ran. It should have been me. It would have been me, had I not been burnt so badly.”

Peter's eyes are flickering between red and blue again, but the light in them has nothing to do with the 'wolf. It's insanity, and Stiles makes a quick judgment call.

He's never going to be able to outfight Peter. What he needs is to keep him of guard, while hoping for help to reach him. And as dangerous as it might be, the best way is to go after Peter's ego.

He's calm and collected in a way he rarely is as his brain starts listing sore points to hit.

He starts off by laughing, startling Peter out of his self-righteous rant.

“I might have to take back what I said about you not being stupid. You really think you should have been Alpha over Laura? Dude, you are delusional. You not becoming Alpha after the fire had nothing to do with you burning, and everything to do with the fact that you're a monster. Hell, the only way you had a shot at Alpha-hood was to steal it.

“Derek's fucked up plenty, yes, but even on his worst days he's better than you. He at least is sane.”

His words are working, Stiles can see it, and he continues to taunt the 'wolf.

“In fact, should Derek die today? You're not even in the running to become the next Alpha. It'll be Cora, or Scott if she's not an option either. Hell, even Isaac is a better candidate for Alpha than you and I really don't like that guy. No, you're going to have to kill the rest of your family and the new Hale pack along with them to even have a shot.

“Fuck, if I was that Alpha spark? I'd leave the Hale line – hell, existence even – completely over settling in you. You're simply too corrupt.

“You speak of Derek and Laura not being worthy of the Alpha spark. The truth is that you're the one that's unworthy. The world truly will be a better place once you're dead.”

Peter's eyes flicker back and forth and Stiles is actually kind of surprised he's not already dead. Maybe Peter still thinks he can get something out of keeping him alive.

“Brave words, Stiles, but that's all they are. Words. You don't understand what it's like to be a werewolf, what it means to be in a pack. But I'll make sure you do. Before the sun rises I'll be the Alpha, and like it or not you're going to help me. And as a reward I'll give you what you wanted but were afraid to say yes to all those years ago.

“Once my useless nephew is out of the picture you'll be my beta. Part of my pack. And you'll be good to me, won't you Stiles? After all, you have...experience in being good to your Alpha, don't you?” Peter's voice is silky-sweet around the words, and Stiles shudders with disgust.

What Peter is hinting at is never going to happen, not even if Stiles has to kill himself to make sure it doesn't. Yes, he's made some pretty harsh statements about what was between him and Derek, but not even at the lowest point did that make him feel as dirty as Peter's mere words are doing now.

At the same time Stiles is willing to put money on the fact that Peter doesn't really mean what he's saying. Oh, he might follow through, especially if he leaves Derek alive, but this isn't about any kind of want or desire. This is about scaring Stiles, about rattling him, about making him beg.

He's not going to do that.

“Fuck no.”

“Tsk, tsk. You'll sing a different tune once you're in my pack.”

Stiles laughs again, short and sharp, putting as much mockery as he can muster in it.

“Your pack? You don't have a pack. You'll never have a pack. All you've got, Peter, is two people who shares blood with you and who pity you too much to put you down like the animal you are.

“Really, where's an Argent when you need them?”

That does it. Peter's claws pop, his teeth lengthen and his eyes shine like lasers. Only one of them will walk away from this, and Stiles has finally managed to tip the scales enough that it just might be him. Of course, even almost out of his mind with rage Peter does have some control – he hasn't howled, for instance, keeping it in as to not warn anyone. Stiles's chance is tiny, and it mostly depends on outside factors, but unlike five minutes ago it exists.

Now he just has to be right about a number of factors.

Luckily he is.

The window breaks, glass splintering and flying across the cabin. Peter jerks back as a big furry shape follows and Stiles hurries to to put his back against a corner. Chances are that Peter will win this fight so he's not safe yet, but he's certainly safer than he was a minute ago.

No one had been happy with Stiles going back without Embry. Hell, Stiles hadn't been happy about it. Had it been an option he would have brought the entire pack with him – preferably both even. Jake'd been on the verge of laying down an Alpha order about Stiles and John not going on their own for weeks, the only thing stopping him being the safety of LaPush. Instead he had had to stop basically the entire pack from sneaking off to follow them, same for Sam.

The compromise had been one 'wolf. There had been a fight over who got to go, and even Leah – who still think Stiles is being an idiot – had wanted to go. Of course, Leah is also finally pregnant and no one wants to put her and the baby at risk. (Plus, she's not feeling that great. The phrase “sick as a dog” takes on a new light when you've seen a horse sized shape shifter with violent morning sickness, Stiles decided after seeing Leah sick up to the point where she phased out of her wolf form and fainted. Yuck.)

Embry still hadn't been allowed to go, and Stiles knows why, knows that Jake has a point in claiming Embry's bond to Stiles would cause him to be on edge and risk exposing them in more ways than one. That doesn't make it easier to deal with though.

Stiles wishes with all his being that it could have been Embry.

Instead it had been decided that Collin, as the most harmless looking one, should go and play hapless tourist. He had arrived in Beacon Hills a couple of days ago, and as far as Stiles knows no one's picked up on anything strange about him or his story.

Of course, with Collin being one of the youngest and least experienced 'wolves he's not the one Stiles would have wanted in a fight against Peter Hale.

All he really is is a distraction, but it does gives Stiles a chance. While Peter's attention is on the giant 'wolf Stiles slowly eases the hidden blade from his sleeve and then carefully rips open his cuff.

The mountain ash concealed in the cuff does as it's meant to and falls into his hand. Now he's got a chance.

Provided nothing has gone to hell in the last couple of hours there is at least one other 'wolf near, able to warn others. If it has and they're on their own, then there's always howling.

All Stiles needs to do is get up a barrier and they'll have some breathing room. He just needs some distance between Collin and Peter.

At first the giant 'wolf is causing Peter to be cautious, but it doesn't take long for the man to realize he's the strongest of them. The wolf shape is excellent for fighting and killing vampires, but less so when it comes to another type of werewolf.

Collin yips in pain and Peter strikes again. This time he lands a powerful blow that throws Collin across the cabin. He lands heavily, with a whine, and doesn't get up. Stiles swallows as he sees blood pooling out from the still body.

A 'wolf can heal just about anything, given time. Peter won't give them that though. He's already stalking across the floor with blood dripping from his claws and a sadistic smile on his face. He's fast enough that he could have crossed before Stiles knew what was happening. This slow walk is just a show, meant to intimidate Stiles.

Too bad it just gives him the time he needs.

“You've been keeping secrets. I'll enjoy dragging them out of you.”

It's a promise, meant to invoke, and it works. But Stiles has gotten used to pushing down his fear and working through it, and so he looks Peter straight in the eyes and quips.

“Didn't your Alpha teach you not to play with your prey?”

And then he throws the mountain ash.

He's practiced this very moment over and over until he doesn't need to walk the perimeter, or to have “enough” ash. All he needs is a little bit and his belief.

He's never believed anything this hard before.

“Mountain ash? Always the clever one, aren't you? But your little trick won't save you, or your friend there. You can only hold the barrier for so long, and I can be a very patient man.

“It would be wise of you not to test that patience though. Sooner or later your father will walk through that door, and I would hate to kill him just to prove a point.”

Like he'd let any of them live either way.

“Here's the thing, Peter. You would be wise to leave now. Who knows, run fast enough, far enough, and you might even live to regret your actions here tonight. Because Game of Thrones might be shit about a lot of things, but they're dead right about: 'the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives'. And you, Peter. You're all alone.”

“You think you're pack? You, my useless nephew's even more useless fucktoy? Don't make me laugh.

“Since you're apparently too stupid to realize, I've got you trapped in here. You've got no way to call for help,” and he steps on Stiles's phone, grinding it to components to make a point, “your supposed savior is out like a light, dying as we speak, and your mountain ash barrier is weakening by the minute.”

It's not. Stiles can feel that it's still just as strong, but it's a good tactic, trying to shake the belief holding it together.

“That poor fool is even more of an idiot than that useless beta of mine. He didn't even howl for help. Not that he would have gotten any, but he didn't even try. Pathetic.”

Stiles smirks. No, Collin hadn't howled. But with the LaPush pack mind he didn't need to, not being shifted.

“Peter? This is the 21st century. Proper 'wolves use cellphones just like the rest of us.

And then in a show of timing almost too good to be true Seth and Brady jumps through the broken window as Derek – followed by Cora – break through the door.

Stiles almost sobs with relief. Having Collin arrive had been such a help, but it hadn't really made him feel safe. Not when up against Peter Hale. The same goes for Brady. They're his friends, yes, but they're the most inexperienced of the 'wolves and they're Sam's. Seth is, well, he's not that much more experienced but he's pack. That matters.

It's not the fact that they're four against one that calms Stiles, or even that Derek is there – it's the presence of pack.

He still wishes Embry was with him, but now he dares to believe he'll see his 'wolf again.

Peter is actually looking stunned, faced with another two giant wolves. And is that a hint of fear Stiles sees? It could be. After all Peter has to realize that while Derek and Cora might be swayed to spare him out of sentimentality, these new and unknown wolves have no such compunctions. Stiles wonders if the crazed 'wolf sees his death in their arrival.

He hopes so.

The four circle Peter, cutting of all routes of escape. If he wants to leave he'll have to go through them, and that's not as easy as fighting Collin might lead Peter to believe. They don't attack though and Stiles can't help but think his 'wolves are holding back out of consideration for Derek, and to a lesser degree Cora.

Seth and Brady both know that Peter needs to die, but Derek has had a hard time reconciling with the fact that killing Peter had been necessary the first time. He hasn't even wanted to entertain the idea that it might be needed a second time, and might want to give Peter a chance to surrender.

Or it's just about waiting for the right moment. Regardless Stiles finds himself unable to watch what is about to come. Strange. He'd had no problem watching Peter die the first time, had thrown Molotov cocktails at him and watched Derek rip his throat out without regret. He has been certain Peter needs to die again since about 5 seconds after finding out he was back.

And yet he finds he can't watch.

As Peter lounges, desperately, towards Brady – either having identified him as the easiest target or unwilling to attack his remaining blood family – Stiles burrows his face into Collins fur and tries to shut it all out. They're safe behind the mountain ash barrier, and their friends will take care of Peter without them. They're safe, the barrier will hold, their friends will live, and Peter will die.

Stiles's world shrinks down to those four things, trying to will it into existence.

They're safe. The sound of a large body hitting the wall.

The barrier will hold. A grunt as claws strike flesh.

Their friends will survive. A high-pitched whine and the smell of blood.

Peter will die. A howl rises, then cuts out and is replaced by silence.

Derek and Cora are curled up together, shaking and crying and laughing all at once, both their eyes flashing between red and beta blue or gold. Stiles looks at them and feels a sting. Not jealousy, precisely, because he's got Seth, and Brady, and he's pretty sure Embry is a lot closer to Beacon Hills than Jake really likes, just...

Derek won't be coming back with him.

Stiles knew that already, knew that Cora would be vulnerable after the transfer of power, and that having Derek essentially break away straight after wasn't going to happen. They'd talked about it repeatedly and made their plans accordingly.

It's even more true now, with the added trauma of Peter's betrayal and death, causing her to lose a pack member already that day along with half of her remaining blood family.

For her to lose Derek on top of that... No. Stiles doesn't wish that on anyone. Cora needs to stabilize herself, find her balance again, and both siblings need to be allowed to grieve.

Again, it's no surprise that Derek will be staying in Beacon Hills for a while. It's just... It was abstract before. Now it's right there in his face, and Stiles realizes he wasn't prepared.

Looking at Derek and Cora he also realizes that regardless of what they've said, what they've promised, there's a possibility that Derek will change his mind now that the moment is here. It's possible that Beacon Hills without Peter will be tempting enough that Derek will start seeing it as  his home again. It's possible that he will decide that staying with Cora, and the pack he started, is more important than being with Stiles.

If he does... It'll hurt. It'll even hurt like hell. But if it's one thing Stiles has learned it's this: he can live through that, can heal from it, because he won't be alone. Even if he doesn't have Derek he'll have Embry, and his pack.

But that's not how Stiles sees it happening. Not after everything they've been through to get to where they are.

Derek is going to grieve with his sister, and help her settle, and when he's ready he'll leave Beacon Hills, leave their own personal Hellmouth, and come back to Stiles.

Because that's where they're headed, full circle. When they're both ready things will be different. This time around it'll be Derek joining Stiles's pack. There will be no begging, no miscommunication, no posturing, no self-hatred and no Alpha crap. It'll just be Stiles and Derek, healed and happy and together, trying their very best to love each other and not do anything stupid.

It'll be great.

Stiles believes it with all that he has and is. And his belief? Is magic.

~ The End ~

[ironhusband]

Just Friends?

Who else is feeling angsty? 

~~~

“We’re just friends.” 

Stephen hears those words at least once a week, and still, they don’t ever stop stinging. It’s not that Stephen hates being friends with Tony. No, being friends with Tony means laughing at some joke only they can understand, it means creating new things with ease only they can manage, it’s having race cars like they just got their license in a way only they don’t consider reckless. So, no, Stephen doesn’t hate being friends with Tony. 

It’s just that he wants more than that. 

Sure, he already gets the easy chemistry, the flirting, the sex. But he wants more than that. He wants Tony cuddling with him until Stephen’s eyes drift close, he wants arguments in the kitchen and the living room about which dinner and which movie, that end with Tony kissing him, and he wants being told by Tony “I love you” and being called by him honey. And most of all, he wants that longing look that Tony gives Pepper and Rhodey, the look Stephen hopes Tony secretly gives him. 

“Stephen is my business date. Y’know, we made these prosthetics together, I think he deserves a dinner and a movie,” Tony jokes and the investors laugh. 

Stephen forces out a smile, and teases back, “only if you don’t choose the movie.” 

Tony smiles at him, oh so brightly. Stephen almost sighs with longing. “Ah, well, I guess just dinner then.” 

The investors continue chuckling, and the topic of the conversation moves back on to the reason they are all here today. Stephen drones it out as Tony talks details with the investors. 

To be honest, he should be listening. After all, it’s his project, and he should be a part of persuading these buyers. He cares so much about the prosthetics, he and Tony worked for six months on it, sacrificing other parts of their career and social life. But as Stephen looks at Tony, as Stephen remembers how Tony thinks of him, as Stephen knows all this flirting isn’t serious... it turns out he cares more about Tony. 

He hates it. 

“-I’m just the showman, though. Stephen knows more about this part, honestly. So, Stephen, would you care to jump in?” 

Stephen blinks, focusing back on the present and less on his thoughts. He clears his throat and improvises on the spot, “actually, you seem to be handling it as good as you can. I think I might go talk to some other people.” 

Before Tony, or anyone else could object, Stephen cuts through the crowd and heads straight out of the room. 

~~~

Stephen has known the solution to this problem for a while. He has known it ever since he realized he was in love with Tony. 

The solution was to run away. Cut things off with Tony and focus back on his career. It was the easiest way to fall out of love with Tony, to stop this path to heartbreak, to not wear his heart on his sleeve. It was the smart thing to do. It was what he usually does. Why isn’t he doing it? 

Tony is like the sun. Everything and everyone orbits around him, whether they like to or not. And Tony? Tony pretends to like it, Tony pretends that it’s by design, pretends that it’s how it’s supposed to be, but underneath all that, when you know the real Tony... he’s not the sun. You’re not drawn to regardless of your choice. He’s just someone you feel lucky to be near. 

Stephen likes to think he’s different, but Tony continues proving to him again and again, that he’s not. 

“Hey,” Tony pops out of nowhere, and Stephen tries to bring back that mask. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Trying the disappearing Houdini act?” 

Tony’s smile is the kind of smile to make you think he’s the most charming man alive. When his smile is real... the effects are even worse. 

He doesn't show it, however. “Always count on Tony Stark to avoid his responsibilities of impressing a room full of people, to chase a man who disappeared.” 

Tony’s smile becomes a little less wide, but no less bright, “well, you know how those rich people are. Fun to play with, but get boring very quickly after they give you their money.” 

Stephen looks pointedly at Tony, “yes, I do know those rich people.” 

Tony gives him the finger and Stephen chuckles. “You’re an asshole. I was just about to say I’d much rather be with you.” 

Stephen softens. Tony has a way of making him do that. Stephen hates it more than everything. So of course, he ruins it, “well, of course, you would want to be with me, I’m the only one asshole enough to match you.” 

Tony laughs, sitting next to him, looking directly at Stephen. 

A lot of people find Stephen to be a jerk, or heartless, or hiding his emotions with sarcasm. Some of it isn’t untrue but... Tony sees through all that. He knows that him being a dick is just a mask for him being a sweetheart. He knows because he does the same. 

At least that’s what Stephen thinks the look Tony is giving Stephen right now means. 

Tony looks intently into his eyes, his stare soft and soul-searching. His gaze falls to Stephen’s lips, and Tony leans in, calloused fingers on Stephen's chin gently encouraging him to do the same as Tony. When their lips evidently touch it’s different. It’s... slow and relaxed. All they do is kiss, a mess of lips, and muted desires. It’s gentle butterfly kisses. No one is trying to angle their heads for better access, no one is trying to involve tounges, no one is trying to make it anything deeper than a gentle kiss. It’s just lips connecting with lips. 

Stephen should hate it. It’s intimate and destructive and barely a kiss. They’re kissing like two teenagers scared to do anything more. But instead, he doesn’t hate it. Instead, it’s everything he’s ever wanted. 

Then Tony tries to sneak in his tongue, and Stephen is immediately reminded that they don’t have those kinds of kisses. 

Stephen breaks it off. 

Tony watches as Stephen stands up, seeming in the midst of his own personal storm, as Tony is too shocked by the rejection to process it. “Hey, are you-” 

“Seriously, Tony?!” Stephen snaps, cutting him off, “Is that what I am to you? A friend you can flirt with and tell all those romantic things to, and then fuck and leave like you don’t give a shit?” 

Stunned, Tony replies, “I thought... I thought that was the agreement, yes.” Stephen glares at him, unamused, “stop it.” 

“Sorry,” Tony mutters, and then a little louder, repeats, “sorry. Stephen, what is going on with you?” 

Stephen paces, too upset to stand still, “you know, I thought I could be okay with this, but it turns out I can’t. I can’t just be some whore you’re fucking. I can’t just be a friend to you, either. I want to be with you. Completely with you.”  

Tony’s mouth opens and closes a few times, until he finally settles for, “where is this coming for?” 

Stephen stares at him for a moment, stopping his pacing, trying to see how serious Tony is. And then he realizes... it's obvious. He’s totally serious about never being serious about him. Stephen laughs, “of course! How could I ever think you’d want to be with me? I’m not Rhodey or Pepper after all! How could I even compare?” 

“Hey, you leave them out of this!” 

“Then you leave the bullshit behind and answer my question!” Stephen challenges back.

“What question?”

Stephen snorts, “what question...?! The question of if you want to be with me or not!” 

“Why are you getting so pissed off?!” Tony yells right back, “from the moment you confessed your feelings for me, you’ve done nothing but be a complete piece of shit!”

Stephen pauses, realizing Tony was right. If he ever wanted a chance with Tony... he picked the worst possible way to word it. Stephen inhales, trying to gather the courage to look honestly in Tony’s eyes and say the words that feel to him more like an admission of guilt and not love. “I...” Stephen carefully says, trying not to look away from Tony’s eyes, emotions he can’t explain in them, “I want to be with you. I’m in love with you.” Stephen knows the emotion in Tony's eyes right now is hesitation. “Do you feel the same way? Do you want to be with me, too? Yes or no?”

Tony takes a while to answer, thinking long and hard, seemingly preparing some sort of speech in his head. Stephen wants to yell the answer out of him, but before his patience is brought to its limit, Tony answers. 

“No,” he says only.

Stephen takes a deep breath, trying to force back tears that were coming. “Okay,” he replies, “then we’re done here.” 

Stephen doesn’t wait for Tony to respond (if he even bothered to do that) as he walks away from him, preparing to leave the building. 

There is nothing Stephen wants more, however, than to look back.

~~~

Stephen doesn’t know, maybe he never will know, but as he walked away, Tony looks at him. The same kind of look Tony gives Pepper and Rhodey. The same kind of look Stephen wants. The same kind of look Tony never dares to do expect when Stephen isn’t watching.

Tagging mutuals: 

@salty-ironstrange-shipper @lgbtonystarks @atypical-snowman @carrottheluvmachine @van-dyne @amethyst-noir @babywarg

[our-time-is-now]

June 5, 2019: Today, 11:00 CEST. Here.

(previous play)

You can find more information about the authors, translators, content warning and additional information about the plays in the pinned post on our blog.  

Wednesday, 9:15 am:

David: *was the first one to wake up today, has made some coffee and has packed everything that he has planned for today into his backpack while being in the kitchen* *has brought back two mugs filled with coffee to his room and has put them down on his nightstand* *with some cuddling and a promise of coffee was able to convince Matteo to wake up and to stay awake and they are now lazing on his bed scrolling on their phones* *is a little nervous because he doesn’t know if Matteo will find his plan totally dumb and silly but then simply goes ahead and sends Matteo a text via WhatsApp* Today, 11:00 CEST. Here. 52.508256, 13.334642 *peeks over at Matteo and anxiously waits for his reaction*

Matteo: *is half awake and happy to have coffee* *scrolls through Instagram and slightly rolls his eyes at Hanna and Jonas' posts who have to share their happiness with the whole world* *but is actually really happy for them* *then sees the WhatsApp notification pop up and laughs when he sees David's name* *opens the message and grins over to him* *but doesn't say anything and instead answers* I'm having a deja vu... does that mean you'll disappear in a minute so that I have to find my way there on my own?

David: *sees Matteo’s grin and automatically has to grin as well* *sees that he writes something back and waits* *feels his phone vibrate and opens the message* *texts back* For a real deja vu I should do that... but if you prefer my company and local knowledge we can also go there together ;-) *sends the text and reaches for his mug to take a sip of coffee*

Matteo: *sees David typing and waits for the answer* *grins and sends a kiss-emoji* *then leans over and gives him a real kiss* I always prefer your company! *laughs* Did you really plan a date? *grabs his phone again to see where the coordinates lead to*

David: *grins when he sees the kiss-emoji and then gets a real kiss from Matteo* *after he hears his words murmurs* That's good, then... *grins again and shrugs* You wanted one, after all... *laughs quietly* Of course we could simply have spent a nice day outside, but THIS way you get your official date... *sees that Matteo grabs his phone, probably to check the coordinates* *puts his mug down on the nightstand and lies back down again* *somehow is still in comfortable-mode and too lazy to get up* *turns to his side to look at Matteo and hopes that he can still remember their conversation about giraffes and stuffed rabbits*

Matteo: *grins when Google Maps tells him where they're going* *puts the phone aside and looks down at David* We're going to the zoo? *scoots down a bit so that he can lay down next to David* Admit it, you were so flashed by my absolutely interesting fact about giraffes that you simply have to see the things for yourself, am I right?

David: *still isn't sure that Matteo won't find the zoo thing a little silly, but then has to grin at his words* Exactly! I even packed an infrasonic device so that we can talk to them. *laughs and turns on his back* The stuffed rabbit is a little pissed that he isn't allowed to come along but you explicitly said that we should go without fathers and stuffed rabbits...

Matteo: *laughs and shakes his head* I mean, I just don't know if we can risk it... I'm only thinking about the well-being of the stuffed rabbit... do you think he would survive another negligence from you? *grins and then nudges him a little* You know that you don’t have to do this, right? When I sent you these voice messages, I simply talked just to say something... and the thing about the date... I wasn’t really serious about that... you don't have to woo me or anything... *doesn’t want David to think that he expects him to constantly plan things like that*

David: *grins when Matteo talks about the rabbit's welfare* Hey, I'm a lot more careful now than I was at five. But if you're worried about him, you can ask him yourself - he's over there in the shelve... *points his finger to the shelf on the wall and laughs quietly* *looks back at Matteo when he nudges him* *at first doesn't know what he's talking about, but then realizes it and looks at him lovingly* I know... *turns to his side again and (unsuccessfully) pushes Matteo's hair out of his face* ...but you were right about the date... there was something standing between us and I was constantly thinking about it... it was really great being at the Spree with you, but why shouldn't we have at least one date that we can both enjoy without any baggage... *smiles and briefly pinches Matteo's nose* But if you don't want to go on a date, then we'll simply go to the zoo together... we... and the stuffed rabbit! *peeks over to the shelf and then at Matteo* I think he's excited!

Matteo: *looks over to the shelve and really sees the stuffed rabbit sitting there* *is briefly tempted to get up and get it but is too lazy* Hey, rabbit, does David treat you well? *briefly pretends to listen and then nods* Okay, then you can come with us! *grins and looks back at David* *nods at his words* *complains when David pinches him* Hey, I want a date! I just wanted to make sure you don't think that you have to or anything like that... *grins to the stuffed rabbit* And especially excited about the giraffes!

David: *sees Matteo look to the rabbit and then hears him talking to it* *grins* Mister Rabbit, if you please! There’s got to be time for that... *then nods satisfied when Mister Rabbit seems to have told Matteo that he is treated well and laughs quietly when Matteo says that Mister Rabbit is especially excited about the giraffes* And he doesn't even understand them... well, we'll see... maybe we'll let him use our infrasonic device... *but then gets serious again and nods* *looks back from the rabbit to Matteo and says* I know that I don't have to... but I want to... first to the zoo... and then we'll see how much energy we have left...

Matteo: *holds his hands up in defense* Mister Rabbit, excuse me! *laughs slightly* How do you know that? Maybe your Mister Rabbit has some special powers or something like that? Could be? *looks at David when he realizes that he's looking at him* *nods* Yes, sounds good... first to the zoo... and then maybe find a restaurant? Because the food in the zoo is always super expensive... we could grab something and then sit down somewhere by the water.

David: *laughs when Matteo imputes special powers to Mister Rabbit* Who knows!? We'll see... but that's definitely one more reason to take him along... *shakes his head slightly when he thinks about the fact that he hasn't really paid attention to Mister Rabbit in years and that they are only talking about him because Matteo and he have shared some childhood memories a few weeks ago* *is really happy about the fact that he can do that with Matteo and that they can joke about the old stuffed animal together* *nods at Matteo's words and hums in agreement* Yes... I'd love that... well... I have prepared some provisions for when we are at the zoo... the backpack's already packed. But afterwards, I'd love to... the Landwehr-channel is close to the zoo, isn't it? *grins slightly* As I know you, you're probably gonna be hungry more than once over the course of the day...

Matteo: *laughs and nods* I think Mister Rabbit will surprise us... *looks at him with heart-eyes when he says that he has prepared provisions* You've prepared provisions? You really are the best! *laughs slightly* But yes, it might definitely happen that I'm hungry more than once... but we'll manage, somehow... if we can't find anything, we'll go back to my place and I'll cook something for us. Okay?

David: *shrugs a little embarrassed when Matteo asks about the provisions again and grins slightly when he says that he's the best* Well, food is somehow part of a date, isn't it? *hums a little indecisively at his suggestion to cook something in case they can't find anything and scoots a little closer to Matteo* *puts his head on his shoulder and wraps his arm around his middle* When /I/ invite you on a date, you shouldn't have to cook... *grins again and looks up at him* We're in Berlin, after all... there's food everywhere, isn't there? *subconsciously starts to draw small circles on Matteo's hip and asks* Have you been to the Berlin zoo often? Do you think those are the same giraffes as back then?

Matteo: *shrugs one shoulder* I don't really know... does it? Well, I think it's good... *laughs slightly and wraps his arm around David, as well* But I don't mind... well, just in case we don't find anything. *buries his nose in David's hair* No, not that often, we were there again with school, but that's it... and I don't know, maybe? I think they get pretty old, so it could be possible. *presses a kiss to his head* But it doesn’t really matter, does it?

David: *has to smile a little when Matteo asks about food at a date* That's what I've heard... I don't really have much experience with it... *hums hesitantly but agrees* Okay... but only then... *smiles when Matteo buries his face in his hair and presses him a little closer while he listens to him* *nods to what Matteo tells him and about the fact that it doesn't really matter* True... *briefly kisses his shoulder and then looks up at him* *grins slightly and asks* And now? 5 more minutes of making out and then let's get up, get ready and get going? Or do you need a little more time to wake up? *slightly pricks him in the side*

Matteo: *grins slightly* I've heard that as well... and like I said, I don't mind. *smiles slightly when he agrees* *but thinks that they'll find something* *but also wonders how dainty David is when it's about an official date or if he would also be okay with going to a Döner-restaurant in a pinch* *grins down at him when he kisses his shoulder* *grins even more when he hears his plan* *pricks him back slightly* Making out is always a great method to wake up... *laughs slightly and then turns into a more comfortable position to make out*

(next play)

[asterekmess]

S3A - E5

AAaannddd, we’re back, with another episode! Wow, this rewatch is gonna take for-fucking-ever isn’t it? Yeah, I thought so. Anywho, on with the show.

Read More’s Are Polite

Thoughts:

Boyd and Isaac sharing a bus seat, even though there’s clearly empty seats available. I love it. I love the packness (I will cling to the barest hints at pack until the day I die)

I think this is the most I’ve ever heard Boyd talk. I want MORE BOYD.

Also, all these fucking twenty-somethings riding the bus, tryin’ to pretend they’re just wee little 16/17 year olds. HA. They look so uncomfortable.

This is also the most I think I’ve heard Danny speak. I want MORE DANNY.

Oh god, this episode is gonna give me a headache. I don’t even know how to start going about writing this. Do I follow the show, with the flashbacks every ten seconds? Or do I actually follow the timeline and try to piece together all these lil bits? Oof.

Why why won’t Scott talk to Stiles about the Darach thing? This is literally the exact thing that Stiles said was happening, and now Scott’s beloved Deaton has confirmed it and Scott just...refuses to talk to him about it?

As usual, I’m on Stiles’ side. Why the fuck are they going to this cross-country meet after what happened?? “safety in numbers” what does that mean? NONE of you should be going???

Also, injuries from an alpha take longer to heal yeah, but like, not days? There’s no reason that Scott should think that’s normal. Surely he went to Deaton with his injury, right? Did Deaton tell him it was normal?? ALSO, just to get that whole anti-scott thing out of the way. If Scott’s becoming a real Alpha, then there’s no reason the injury shouldn’t have healed way before this. It’s almost like he only has a few cosmetic traits of Alphas, but none of the biological ones. Hmmmmmmmm.

*slides in from the left* also, side note, it’s canon that wolves in a pack are stronger and faster “better in every way” which includes healing faster. So It makes total sense for Boyd and Isaac to have healed way faster than Scott. Scott’s an omega, while Boyd and Isaac have a pack. They’re literally automatically more powerful than him.

That was such a random way to introduce the premise of the episode. “I can’t believe he’s dead” where is that line coming from? We were talking about the slash in your side and werewolf healing abilities.

wow. that’s literally the first time I’ve heard Scott say ‘i looked it up.’ I’m actually....impressed? He actually did research...of his own volition? I’m fucking flabbergasted.

where the hell did he hear about that agreement between Allison and her dad? Did Chris tell him? Did he say it in the last episode and I can’t remember?

I...okay hear me out. I see the tension/teasing they were going for between Allison and Scott, but like...I still don’t vibe with it? Like, the point of the conversation is “Is Allison capable of fending off a werewolf” and it’s like....yes? Obviously? When she says “I have skills and training” she doens’t just mean with the bow, dude. She was specifically taught how to fight someone who is far faster and stronger than her. Her training included how to deal with claws. Your argument is just ‘I have all the same traits as what you were taught to defend yourself against’ and it doesn’t actually lend itself at all to him being too capable an opponent?

WHERE? Where does Scott get these moves from? I’m not sorry, but hand to hand abilities are not innate. Scott doesn’t get to just be a fighting genius because he’s a werewolf. Derek was trained. Isaac and Boyd were trained. Allison was trained. So what the fuck is up with Scott suddenly being able to do all these things? Reflexes don’t cover that. It’s the fucking lacrosse thing all over again. Being a werewolf isn’t a replacement for actual skill. And why are they so desperate to show that she’s not capable of fighting him? What is romantic about her spending months training to fight a werewolf, only to be immoblized by a fucking omega? That’s terrifiying?(not to mention it makes no sense for her training to have sucked that bad when her family is one of the most deadly hunter clans in the world?)

for that matter...how does he know where she lives now?

....did he have do the creepy “looking up through eyelashes” thing with the ‘and they should scare you too.” he just looks fuckin demonic with the grr face. It’s almost as bad as that nasty grin they gave Derek at the end of S1.

also, WHY are all the camera angles tilted diagonally? That’s how I take instagram pictures, not how to shoot a fucking tv show. everybody looks like they’re in a fun house??

Do the argents know that there is an entire pack of alpha werewolves living above them? Did anyone think to tell them?

Derek. STOP just telling people that they’re going to help you. You’re supposed to ask. Peter’s a horrible influence on you. I also kind of hate the implications of this fight Derek is planning. I hate that it’s more than just them killing Erica. It’s Derek trying to do what his sister wants him to do. She was pissed at him for not attacking them, and he tried to explain they weren’t ready yet, but she was so fucking angry at him. So now he’s doing this, to prove to her that she shouldn’t be disappointed in him. Can you imagine the pain of finding your long lost sister alive again, and the first thing she does is tell you that you’re a complete disappointment and you’re weak and she regrets coming to find you?

*snort* in these random slow-mo flashes to the mall fight, it’s so easy to see how fake the fighting is. Like, obviously I don’t blame them, cus’ it’s not like they could actually beat each other up, but watching Derek’s fist completely miss is hilarious.

Dude, obviously he’s listening. You’re two seats away from him. JARED is listening. The both of you, get some fucking volume control.

How’re you plannin on stopping them, Scott? Hm? Boyd’s been able to take you down since day one, and Isaac is a beautiful lil vicious boy.

Why is the default plan always murder? Um, because these are literally serial killers and there is no form of human law enforcement that could ever take them down? God, the idea of ‘reasoning’ with them is literally like reasoning with Hitler. Every one of them personally murdered their entire pack to be a part of Duke’s group. They killed Erica. There is No Reasoning with them.

Oh how I love Cora. Yes. Good girl. And No, Derek...he didn’t? He followed you into the vault begrudgingly and then enlisted the help of a fucking hunter who helped more than he did. Like...? I don’t get it? PLUS. What do you mean save her life? You already know that the Alphas intended for them to get out and they weren’t planning on killing Cora. They wanted her to kill other people so you would have to kill her. Which you were never gonna actually do, so how did anybody have to save her life? Derek? Wtf?

They already made the first move by kidnapping your sister and your betas, then killing one of them, and then injuring another. Honestly, they’ve made like five moves and ya’ll are super behind.

.....dude what is with this whole ‘Scott suddenly gets all the literary references” thing? I mean, i get that he’s supposed to have gotten all enlightened over summer break, but why tf was he reading the myth of Herakles? Also, spoiler, the Lernean Hydra was defeated by Herakles working with Iolaus to cut off its heads and cauterize the wound before more could grow back. So cutting its heads off still fucking worked. (Fun side-fact: Only two of the Hydra’s heads did the double growback thing. The middle head was completely impervious to Herakles’ weapons and was immortal, so he chopped it off as close to the body as he could and just buried it. Worked pretty well.)

God, I’m still just so disgusted with this whole Lydia/Aiden Danny/Ethan thing. Like, I saw someone somewhere say that Aiden and Ethan were well over eighteen...but then...how did they get enrolled at the school? Whatever, even if they were seventeen/eighteen, or hell, even nineteen, My issue is with the MURDER part. THEY ARE MURDERERS. WHY has no one explained this to Danny or Lydia?? WTF?

Ew. Why would Lydia ever wanna bang in a school office? She has standards, people.

Scott, this is the one time when you could actually say ‘i can smell it.” or ‘i just know” Because that’s LITERALLY how chemosignals work. and instead you just point out his claws?

why is this elevator so fucking big???

...i do not know what to think about the whole Deucalion is blind, but only when he wants to be, thing. Like...why’d they give him a disability and then just make it so he could turn it off anytime he wanted? It would’ve been so much more badass if he was always blind and had just learned to use his actually hyped up senses to navigate the world instead? It would’ve been even more badass if the only physically disabled person they have on the show weren’t a goddamn villain.

Okay, but like, Peter and Cora. His greeting to her, such a quiet, unassuming introduction to her? Clattering something to announce his presence. Keeping his distance. “it’s just me, your uncle.” But then, it intrigues me that he specifies. “Your uncle Peter.” DID THEY HAVE MORE THAN ONE UNCLE???? And Cora’s instant tension, but keeping a sass that sounds so much like something she would’ve learned as a kid, mimicking that terminology. “Uncle Peter who killed Sister Laura.”

I WANT THEM TO HUG SO BAD.

Okay, but timeline-wise. why didn’t anybody go to the bodies right after the fight? They all watched Derek and Ennis fall, but no one went to check on them? Huh?

what is with this voiceover??? You have no idea if Derek’s going to get them all killed! Them not doing anything is definitely going to get them all killed! “Don’t stop them, lead them.” GAG. Fuck you Deaton.

????I DO NOT UNDERSTAND. Why does Boyd just randomly back down?? Is it supposed to be seeing that Scott’s hurt? Why would that matter? Is it supposed to be hearing that Scott cares? Cus’ that’s bullshit. Even if Scott does care, it’s not like he’s the only one? It’s not like Boyd’s all alone? Isaac’s RIGHT NEXT TO HIM and Cora and Stiles have all made clear they care about him. Even PETER is around.

Yes, Stiles, you do have a very perceptive eye for evil. It’s fucking wonderful.

.....when did Stiles get danny’s number? ARE THEY BROS? I see a previous text bubble from Danny above Stiles’ first message which means THEY”VE TEXTED BEFORE THIS. I”M CLAIMING IT.

Is anyone else like..super depressed that Ethan is showing more of a pack bond with Ennis than like...anybody else has with Derek besides his actual family? Like, yeah, Stiles has worried about him plenty and Boyd’s clearly fucking pissed off, but the actual fear in his eyes, that quiet worry, that’s so much more pack-like than anything else we’ve seen?

I am SO confused about why they can’t fucking hear this shit. Why can’t ethan hear them talking about it? Why didn’t Scott hear Ethan telling Danny? Just PRETEND for a MINUTE that these are fucking werewolves.

THey’re going after the others ANYWAY Morrell! Helping save Ennis isn’t going to change that. They’re gonna kill Scott ANYWAY.

Also, why can’t Morrell just open the gate herself?

why is Jared so nauseous? They’re at a standstill? I thought the point of car-sickness was the movement??

God, that moment with Lydia on the phone? I love it. I love it so much. Just the chill “Heyyy Stiles.” “...okay.” So good.

“Do I have a PhD in Lycanthropy?” I’m CACKLING. Fucking snorting like a pig, why is this so funny to me? God, Dylan your delivery is so perfect.

I can feel Stiles having a fucking aneurysm while Coach whistles at him. I can feeeeeell it.

“hey Jared. How ya doin?”

Dude..that is not...that’s not what happens when you don’t heal out of guilt. That’s just not. We see IN THE NEXT EPISODE that that’s not what happens. Their blood doesn’t turn BLACK. That’s a POISON thing. GUYS COME ON.

....i’m not sure if I’m supposed to feel bad for ennis but I like REALLY don’t feel bad for him.

Allison honey, this’d be easier if you laid him down on the floor.

JEsus CHRIst. HOw fucking toxic was her relationship with her mother than Allison hallucinates getting SCREamed at? Also, Allison seriously needs a doctor bc these hallucinations started way before the nemeton. This is so unhealthy.

Putting aside my fury at Isaac going to Scott after what happened with Derek, I hate this whole “you’re not going alone” thing. Like...what the fuck is this supposed to be? If Isaac knows what happened, then he wouldn’t insist on going for Scott’s sake. he’d be doing it for BOYD. HiS PACK. He’d be doing it for ERICA.

I love how chill they let Lydia be. “Ah, screw it.” God, it’s so nice for her not to have to be the hyper-feminine “better than all of you” character anymore. She’s allowed to have some depth.

duke you’re not...you’re not fucking blind. Also, how exactly did Kali GET up there?? and WHY DIDN”T ANYONE NOTICE? Scott’s just fucking useless at this point, but ISAAC? PETER? DEREK? BOYD? CORA? COME ON.

WHY ARE THEY SHIRTLESS? WHY NO SHIRTS?

God, what the fuck is wrong with these people? WHy do they insist on making ethan and aiden masochists? It’s literally disgusting, having them fucking laugh every time they get the shit beat out of them.

NOpe. NOPE. NO. Scott does not get to do the Alpha thing. NO. I SAID NO.

I love Cora’s normalcy like yeah, she’s all wolfy, but she’s also so well-adjusted? KNocking on the door. It’s so fucking nice.

“Out cold,” Deaton says, and then Ennis immediately opens his eyes. Love it. Some vet you are. Deaton, what the fuck happened to “difficult for someone like Scott to cause me any trouble” “Not in here you won’t”?? Why is Duke suddenly able to kill his own packmate in your fucking office? And why can Duke leave with blood on his hands and no one realizes he’s the one who killed Ennis? Why didn’t Kali HEAR that??? Why Didn’t Aiden and Kali notice Peter and Cora hiding behind a CAR?

ALSO peter’s holding cora’s HAND. I LOVE FAMILY. (i’m complicated, okay?)

Yes, Allison THANK YOU. That’s the kind of shit I LIke “Sounds like saving your own ass” YES.

BUT. HOw the fuck does ALlison know where to go????

....Allison, the first three flashbombs helped. After that it’s just a light show. YOu could literally have killed the ALphas RIGHT THERE with an Arrow EACh to the heart. WHy were you aiming at the floor??

nobody questioned ALlison and lydia getting on the bus? Finstock? No? OKay, sure, fine.

I like Stiles getting to actually talk to someone about the Darach, since scott refuses. Lydia’s got his back.

for once, it’s true. That wouldn’t have been Scott’s fault. Slicing up the back of Ennis’ leg doesn’t make it his fault that Derek fell.

Shaky cameras are so gross.

NO. NO NO NO. NO. Fuck you.

Last Thoughts: This episode was just...bad. Like, it was just this constant contradiction of (Still flimsy) baseline abilities and behaviors set up for the characters. It’s even more Scott centric than all the other episodes and it’s SUPPOSED to be about DEREK DYING. How do you have an entire episode about Derek’s death without actually giving him any real scenes?? God, it’s so frustrating to get more satisfaction out of a three second scene with Peter and Cora than it is with any scenes with Scott in them.

Also, sorry I took so long to put this one out. This is slow going my dudes, it’s hard to get up the mental fortitude to watch these, make notes, and also make real notes about what I’m changing/adjusting in my rewrite. Oofta.

[jess-rewatches-prodigalson]

Episode 16: The Job

Here are my time-stamped thoughts as usual.

WRITTEN THE MORNING OF April 20, 2020. EPISODE 19 HAD NOT YET BEEN RELEASED!!!!

SPOILERS AHEAD

0:10 - How much time has passed since the end of last episode? A week? A month? 

0:15 - You can see Mr. David sitting outside the door here. I can’t tell if he’s looking into the cell. BUT if everyone thinks that Jessica stabbed Martin - why is she allowed into his cell right now?!? 

0:17 - Malcolm looks so dead inside right now. Dang. This boy does not want to be visiting Martin. Jessica looks angry with Martin and done with his antics - as usual. 

0:50 - Martin is so proud that Malcolm stabbed him. This is peak dysfunction. 

1:20 - Ugh. Can’t Malcolm catch a break? Martin is manipulating him again.....wait. Did Martin orchestrate his own stabbing just to see Malcolm more often?!? That’s seriously messed up.

1:23 - ....This means that Malcolm had regular visits with Martin when he was a kid. Was it scheduled like some sort of twisted custody agreement? Like every Wednesday afternoon? 

2:15 - Why did Jessica and Malcolm go back to Malcolm’s loft instead of Jessica’s house? Is Malcolm’s loft closer? Does the house hold too many memories of Martin? 

2:30 - Malcolm looks so scared here. He knows that Martin controls him now. He knows that he’s doing a version of jail-time for his crimes. He’s scared of what his mother is planning. He’s scared that Martin won’t make a statement. 

2:48 - Anyone else’s heart break as you watched Malcolm realize that he can’t think of a single happy thing in his life? Mine did. It looks like Jessica’s did too. 

3:00 - Why is Jessica still riding the Eve/Malcolm train? Eve told Jessica that Malcolm is a good person “deep down” - hella insulting if you ask me. And they tried to date - it lasted one night. They clearly aren’t meant for each other. Their relationship didn’t last 48 hours!!! 

3:05 - Did Malcolm date as a teenager? Was Jessica this meddlesome in his love life then too? 

3:17 - OMG. Every child has had this experience with their parent. For me - it was/is every time my grandmother (who lives on another continent) called us. All she talks about is food. I love her but I don’t want a 3 hour conversation about the sales in the grocery store. 

 3:25 - Is Malcolm even still into Eve? It doesn’t seem like it. I think he just wants to make his Mom happy and make it up to Eve in general. I don’t think he’s in a good mental state to date anyone right now tbh. Even though I ship Brightwell. 

3:41 - OMG. Jessica looks like she’s watching her favourite reality TV show. I’m cringing. 

4:31 - I love watching Gil make a joke a Malcolm’s expense. It’s kind of adorable - looks how happy Gil looks. Watching JT laugh at it is great too. HOWEVER, I’ve only seen Malcolm wear one (1) watch. A regular looking watch with a brown leather band. I’m no watch connoisseur but it didn’t look like one of those super fancy expensive ones? So I assume Gil is just making a joke about Malcolm’s general wealth? 

5:28 - I don’t think Edrisa is making Malcolm uncomfortable on purpose. I think she’s just super socially awkward. She starts backing off as soon as she notices Malcolm’s discomfort. JT’s comment though - hahaha I love him. Give JT more screen time. 

5:43 - OMG. Gil, JT, and Dani look so confused and annoyed here. Vijay certainly makes an entrance. Not in a good way. I immediately hate him for being a pompous jerk. 

5:50 - Malcolm doesn’t look all that excited to see Vijay. Shocked and confused? Definitely. He even looks a little embarrassed. He looks back at the team as though he doesn’t want them to see Vijay. 

6:00 - Vijay is an overgrown bully. He is way too physical with Malcolm, who doesn’t seem to enjoy much physical contact. He doesn’t even like it when Edrisa (a completely harmless, socially awkward friend) stands too close to him. That first slap on Malcolm’s shoulder looked violent - not like friends greeting each other. AND he deliberately calls Malcolm “Whitly” after Malcolm asked him not to. 

6:04 - Awww look at how proud Malcolm is to be working with Major Crimes!!! My heart is so full. 

6:25 - Malcolm looks super uncomfortable when Vijay wipes his finger gun on him. 

6:30- Dani and JT look intrigued and confused that Malcolm knows this dude. They also look annoyed that Vijay is manhandling Malcolm and clearly trying to trick Malcolm into thinking that he and Vijay are friends. AND GIL. Oh dude. Gil has definitely heard stories about Vijay. This man does not like Vijay. Gil does not like Vijay touching Malcolm either.

6:40 - OK. A couple of things: 1) Dani showing up behind Malcolm like his guard dog is adorable. This is the friend Malcolm deserves. 2) Dani’s face when Vijay tries to flirt with her is a mood. This woman is hating Vijay more with every passing second. 

7:00 - “Aww. You were bad Dad kids” hahaha brb crying. 

7:01 - Seriously though, this is a cool moment. You can see that Malcolm isn’t sure how he feels about Vijay. Dani sees it too....ALSO can we get some more info about this boarding school? Was it in New York? Was it only for high school? Did Malcolm come home on weekends? How did Malcolm’s nightmares work in the dorms?! I HAVE QUESTIONS. 

7:17 - And here comes Papa Gil. Calling Malcolm loudly by his preferred name. As a subtle reminder to Malcolm that they’re working AND a subtle shot at Vijay the douchebag.

7:40 - I’ll say it. When the killer lifts up his visor it looks like Vijay. I spent most of this episode convinced that Vijay was the killer.

8:44 - Ugh. When Vijay (or anyone really) winks I just want to deck them. It’s so freaking gross. I hate him more and more with every passing moment. 

8:46 - hahaha this interaction between Gil and Malcolm is everything. Malcolm looks embarrassed, ashamed, and a little scared. Gil just looks concerned that Malcolm is falling for this dude’s act again. 

9:05 - hahaha guessing JT’s name is my favourite running gag on this show. Dani knows it - look at her face. AND Malcolm he just looks so happy to have a game to play with JT. JT even looks happy about it. It’s so cute. Malcolm is acting like the annoying little brother he is. 

9:20 - Inserting yourself into a murder is a RED FLAG that usually indicates the perpetrator right? ....why are we not investigating this douche?

9:30 - Dani and JT do not like Vijay. OMG. They’re both throwing sarcastic insults Vijay’s way. I assume it’s partially because Vijay is acting like a pompous jerk and trying to do their jobs for them. It’s probably also because they heard him be a dick to Malcolm at the crime scene. Dude wasn’t quiet. 

10:30 - “Please stop.” I honestly think Malcolm only said that because Gil was watching from the doorway (like the protective dad he is). Something tells me that Malcolm’s self-worth is so low that he would’ve just let Vijay keep talking until it was safe to leave if Gil wasn’t there.

11:05 - Again. Mr. David isn’t looking into the room. Why?

11:18 - Why does Martin know about Vijay? For some reason it upsets me to think that Malcolm and Martin talked about anything other than murder. 

12:07 - FINALLY. The epiphany of a lifetime. Malcolm has finally realized that his trust issues stem from his father. Ugh. It only took 20 years of therapy and the reappearance of Vijay. 

12:25 - I hate that Martin refuses to acknowledge that he caused Malcolm any pain. Every parent makes mistakes because no human being is perfect. Good parents sometimes cause their children emotional pain unintentionally but they at least acknowledge it. More proof that Martin is scum. 

12:51 - A couple of things. 1) I am so proud of Malcolm. Did you see the way he threw Gil in his dad’s face?!? Gold. Genius. 10/10. A+. BUT 2) The look on Martin’s face in reaction to Gil’s name (and Malcolm’s obvious respect and love for Gil) terrifies me. I’m so scared that Martin is going to find a way to injure/kill Gil. I’m terrified that he’s going to make Malcolm watch. 

13:55 - So...we’re all just going to pretend that this is medically possible? Ok. ALSO why is no one concerned about Dani?!?! All the victims have been pretty, young women with dark, curly hair. THAT IS DANI. Why has no one said anything?!? This episode would’ve been so much better if she was kidnapped and the team had to save her. 

14:30 - Gil throwing shade at Vijay. <3 Also - look at the way Gil looks at Malcolm when he leaves the room. It’s a look that says “Don’t do anything stupid. I don’t trust this guy.”

14:40 - Vijay called Malcolm “Whitly” again. I’m so mad. I will scream. 

15:40 - Vijay is a bad influence on Malcolm. I don’t like this. Malcolm is blackmailing a surgeon and making calls to his father for advice on blackmail. No no. Get Gil back in here - he’s a good influence. 

17:00 - ....why does Malcolm know the stats on facial blindness off the top of his head? 

18:15 - Gil and Malcolm don’t trust Vijay. Look at those faces. 

19:04 - Look at how hard Malcolm is trying to mask his pain here. Ugh. My heart is breaking. 

19:15 - Is Vijay really trying to blame this on Malcolm? Vijay is totally manipulating Malcolm. Malcolm is being super honest and aware of his short-comings and Vijay is using him. I hate it. 

20:20 - Aww.. Malcolm can’t cook (of course he can’t - boy barely eats). Why is this information still exciting to me? AND Malcolm with rolled up sleeves is attractive. Look at those forearms. ALSO he’s wearing a black watch now. This makes sense though because last we saw of his brown watch was in 1x10. When Watkins had him chained up the watch was gone. I assume it was destroyed in 1x11. This is the new watch? I assume? My headcannon is still that Malcolm doesn’t have more than 2 watches. 

20:35 - I feel really bad for Malcolm here. He’s trying so hard to make things right with Eve. He looks so nervous. 

20:47 - Soooo Eve isn’t looking for an apology? She’s looking to “talk about his problems”. Yo. Even if I didn’t like Eve before - I wouldn’t like her now. I’m getting the “I can fix him” vibe from her. Those relationships are never healthy. 

21:45 - I hate Eve but I will admit: I love that she told Malcolm it wasn’t his fault. That he was just a kid. People don’t tell him that enough. Plus, look at how anxious and sad he is when he tells Eve about the gitb. Ugh. My heart is shattering. 

22:30 - Does Gil ever go home? Why is he still at the office? ....also the man has his phone enabled to track Malcolm?!? hahahaha that is perfect. How much do you want to bet that that started after Watkins?

23:20 - Malcolm’s hair is a mess again. It’s time for manic, reckless Malcolm to appear. 

23:40 - Malcolm is angry at Vijay. Check out that shade he’s throwing. I’m so happy.

24:50 - Is Vijay paying for the watches out of pocket? Or is his company paying? Either way - not a fan. 

26:26 - Jessica is a vicious woman. I love her. “I should call Gil.” BUT now I’m even more scared that Martin will try to hurt Gil. 

28:45 - Do you know how I know that Malcolm is a good person? Vijay is a jerk to Malcolm. Malcolm doesn’t like Vijay. Yet, Malcolm saves Vijay. 

30:02 - I love this outburst of Malcolm’s. I see in hindsight how it was a coded message. However, I think it was also just a straight shot at Vijay. Malcolm’s smart enough to do both at once. I like Malcolm standing up for himself. It’s sweet. 

35:15 - I hate this. I hate that Malcolm’s subconscious tries to convince him that he’s a serial killer.  Yes - Malcolm is capable of manipulation. However - he does need friends and he isn’t a killer. Ugh. I feel so bad for Malcolm. Someone give this boy a hug. 

38:35 - Malcolm is high on adrenaline and mania right now. He has a concussion. He’s not thinking straight....but it is nice to see him so happy. Too bad it’s like watching someone you love fall into the wrong crowd though. 

39:10 - Was Vijay under arrest? He should be. Gil should do it on principle. Because Vijay almost got our favourite profiler killed. 

39:50 - I’m sorry. Doesn’t everyone know about Jessica’s search for the gitb?!? SHE BROADCASTED IT ON LIVE TV. She just didn’t call her the gitb. 

40:51 - WTF. WTF. No. No. I don’t like Eve. This was such a messed up, stupid thing to do. I don’t even feel bad for her. I just hate her for playing the Whitlys. 

Thanks for hanging out.

[graciebirdie]

blame all this on @twothumbsandnostakeincanon who keeps inspiring ridiculous fic ideas in me...

inspired by this...thing

IMPORTANT: the sheriff’s name is JOHN.

***

Stiles doesn't mean to summon a demon from the mirror verse, he really doesn't. Although in hindsight, trying to make a magic mirror ala the evil queen from Snow White should have been a give away that he could end up with something evil.

It's incredibly disconcerting to see himself in 3D. He wonders if this is what celebrities who get wax figures of themselves feel.

He blinks and his copy blinks back. He waves his hand...and his copy doesn't wave back.

Well, that's probably not good.

He reaches out and pokes at his? own shoulder?

His copy looks down at where they're touching.

"Huh." his copy says.

He's not sure if he likes knowing what his own voice sounds like.

"So how much of me are you?" he asks.

His copy blinks for a long moment and then shrugs. "All of you I think."

"Great!" Stiles says excitedly. He's always thought that his life would be easier if there were two of him. He might have actually thought about it more than a normal person...

He might even have a hypothetical division of labor spreadsheet he wrote at some point...

He prints it out and hands it to his copy who takes it and looks it over with a nod. He gets it.

Stiles hands over his keys and waves as his copy drives off to school, flicking on the 'find my keys' app on his phone as he closes the door because everything is going well and he's sure with the way his life goes that something will go wrong sooner or later.

For the time being he as research that's not on magic mirrors to do. He might even do laundry while he's at it...

***

School is...not very fun Not Stiles decides.

It's actually really boring. For some reason he already knows everything they're talking about in class.

"Am I boring you Mr. Stilinski?" the teacher asks with a sigh.

"Yes." Not Stiles says staring at her intently.

She just sighs and waves her hand at the door.

...that wasn't what he'd been expecting.

He gets up and packs away the things that aren't his. No one in class is looking at him. Nobody seems very interested in anything that was going on so he's not sure why he got called on specifically.

He walks out the door and although he knows he's supposed to go to the principle or maybe his counselor's office he wonders around the halls instead.

A couple people pass him but only a few give him exasperated looks. Nobody asks where he's supposed to be.

He ends up in the library, which is...good. Stiles likes to read.

The woman behind the front desk barely looks at him before she gives a half-hearted hand flip in his direction.

He wonders around the stacks until the bell rings. He doesn't leave.

Eventually the bell rings again and the woman appears to kick him out with a scowl on her face.

He wanders the halls again until he ends up at the door for the classroom he's supposed to be in.

He walks inside and the teacher glares at him and points aggressively at an empty desk.

He sits down and pulls out a pen.

He clicks the pen, over and over until someone behind him throws something at him.

He turns to glare at the person.

The guy glares right back and bares his teeth, hissing "Knock it off before I strangle you."

Not Stiles does not knock it off. If anything the clicking just gets louder.

The teacher shouts "Stilinski!" and he gets kicked out again.

He's trying to decide what he should do now when three people he recognizes walk up to him.

Erica slings her arm around his neck and grins at him "You coming with us?"

He doesn't know where they're going but he agrees.

They end up at Derek's loft. He gets home a few hours after they get there and he gives them a mildly disappointed glare but doesn't tell them they should be at school.

Eventually he figures he should go home.

The front door's unlocked and he walks right in.

Stiles is vacuuming the living room with an intense look of concentration on his face.

He jumps when he sees him and quickly turns the vacuum off. "Did you have a good day?" Stiles asks with a pleasant smile.

He shrugs.

Stiles just nods understandingly and hands him a duster.

They tidy up the living room together.

Eventually they make dinner and sit at the table and he tells Stiles all about his day.

Stiles just nods along and doesn't look surprised or upset.

It's... weird. Technically he didn't do what he was supposed to do but Stiles doesn't seem to care.

After dinner they hunt around the house for blankets and clean sheets for the guest room before they move the boxes that are usually in it down to the basement.

They both know what's in the boxes and why they were in the guest room just gathering dust but neither of them say anything about it.

He thinks it's kind of... nice that he gets his own bed.

***

The next day it's Stiles' turn to go to school and the day is pretty boring except for the waves Erica, Boyd, and Isaac give him.

That might be a small flaw in his plan but he can't exactly say 'don't talk to other people' because he's sure that would just mess everything up.

He's sure the spell isn't going to last much longer anyway so he can deal with having to pretend around his maybe friends.

***

After Stiles goes to school he's only alone for about an hour when Stiles' dad walks into the kitchen and stops in his tracks at the sight of him.

He looks him up and down for one long moment before he sighs very deeply and pulls out his phone.

Stiles must answer it because he sighs again, even deeper, and rubs a hand over his face.

He talks to Stiles for a minute before he hangs up and looks very pointedly at Not Stiles.

"Don't... murder me in my sleep or anything." he says sternly.

Not Stiles nods in agreement and goes back to doing the dishes.

***

Stiles tries not to wince as his phone goes off with his dad's ringtone. He might have... forgotten... one thing.

Shockingly his dad doesn't yell at him but does sigh a lot.

Disappointed sighing is so much worse than yelling.

He knows he's in for it when he gets home.

He slips back into English and apologizes to Mrs. Smith, who obviously continues to hate him.

School's okay after that, even lunch when Erica bodily walks him outside to sit with her, Boyd, and Isaac.

It's shockingly easy to act totally normal around them. They don't seem to think it's weird that he's not always sure exactly what they're talking about. They probably just caulk it up to Stiles being Stiles.

Maybe this is going to be an enlightening experience..

***

Stiles, his dad, and his copy all have dinner together before his dad's night shift.

It's slightly strained but his dad tries, and really when faced with there suddenly being two Stiles' in existence that's really all Stiles can ask of him.

When he leaves he doesn't even hesitate to give them both a shoulder squeeze of goodbye.

Stiles and his copy share dual smiles of understanding.

***

Things go on for a week. It's...weird.

Not Stiles feels weird.

He feels like he's... unfulfilled in a way that doesn't quite make sense.

He's acting even worse in school and Stiles keeps giving him mildly annoyed looks.

"We have to work together in this man." he says, worrying his lip. "Is there anything...I can do to help?"

And that's... not what he was expecting. He feels strangely warm.

***

On Saturday they both climb into the jeep and go a few towns over to try their hand at shoplifting at the mall.

They of course make an excellent tag team, one of them distracting the sales clicks while the other swipes little trinkets that won't be missed for awhile, a tiny bit of magic might have helped them here and there...

Eventually they got bored of that and escaped back to the jeep with their hauls. They emptied their pockets out into the center consual and giggled over the cheap little rings, plastic barrettes, and pins that stores kept in jars next to the cash register. That was what made it worth it for them, the challenge of getting away with it.

They split their loot up, arguing playfully over who got what until everything is evenly divided.

They get fast food and huge milkshakes and even feel charitable enough to bring one back for thei- Stiles' dad then just... drive around and eat and talk about nothing.

They get home late enough that the milkshake is mostly melted but Stiles' dad got home about a minute after they did. He eyed them distrustfully.

"What did you two get up to today?" he asked as he picked up the milkshake and took a sip. Stiles and Not Stiles smiled innocently at him. He shook his head and looked amused. "Never mind! I'm sure I don't want to know." he sends them a pointed look and adds "Nobody better call me about you two."

Stiles and Not Stiles share a grin.

***

Stiles knew it couldn't last forever, that the pack was bound to figure it out eventually.

He just hadn't expected them to think he was possessed.

Getting cornered in Derek's loft with the whole pack around him, Scott looking mulish and holding a cross was... a bit much, even for him.

"Uh, are you guys serious?" Stiles asked, trying to figure out a convincing way to get out of the situation he'd made for himself.

"Stiles..." Scott said, lip actually wobbling a little in emotion. "We're just worried about you."

Stiles wanted to make a break for it but then the pack would all just think that they were right. And Peter was standing in front of the door. Of course Peter was smirking at, leaning against the closed door and arms crossed.

Stiles is half sure that if he looked desperate enough Peter would let him out but then he'd probably owe Peter a favor and no one ever wanted to owe Peter a favor.

He sighs and flops out onto the couch and thinks about pulling his phone out so he can text Not him and ask him to come over so they can finally let the car out of the bag...or the twin out of the closet.

And honestly he's kind of interested in what they have to say. It's been two months and honestly he was expecting them to have figured out something was going on sooner than this.

"Alright." he says, spreading his arms out invitingly. "Lay it on me!"

He can see Peter smirking in amusement at him while the pack exchange wide eyed glances. Obviously they weren't expecting him to agree so easily.

Scott carefully shuffles over and picks up a water bottle off the coffee table. "Okay... first thing's first... I guess..." he says, uncapping the bottle. "Can I have your hand?"

Stiles rolls his eyes so hard it hurts but holds his hand out so Scott can pour some of the water on him. He has no doubt that the bottle has 'holy water' in it and he wonders how Scott got it. He'd probably chased down Father Brian for it. He was honestly sad he'd missed that. Father Brian was always going out of his way to sadly ask if Stiles was doing okay. He figured it was a pretty nice gesture considering Stiles and Scott are the only two kids he ever banned from Sunday school.

The water just makes his hand wet and leaves a puddle on the floor.

Scott looks relieved but he determinedly puts the cross he's still holding onto Stiles' palm. Stiles holds onto it reflectively and Scott's shoulders relax when the cross doesn't instantly catch fire or anything.

Stiles can see Peter out of the corner of his eye and it looks like he's trying to burst out laughing. Weirdly it kind of makes him feel better.

After Scott's failed attempt to prove that Stiles is possessed the pack all take turns laying out their proof that Stiles is losing time and Stiles tries not wince too much. He's starting to feel a little guilty...

And then he sees Peter suddenly straighten up and turn to pull the front door open. Everyone else wipes around to look at what's going on.

And... in walks Stiles' dad with Not right behind him.

Peter, of course, looks fascinated while everyone else is just confused.

His dad sighs and shakes his head at everyone. He pulls out his phone and reads off what is no doubt a text from Scott. "Please come over we need to talk about Stiles." he shoots Scott a mildly disappointed look. "Thank you for asking me if I knew anything about what's going on with my own son, Scott, very courteous of you."

Scott has the decency to look ashamed.

Everything turns into chaos after that.

The pack is shouting and pointing and asking questions over each other while Peter ushers Not over to sit on the couch next to Stiles.

Stiles and Not share a knowing look.

Peter is watching them through narrowed eyes, very obviously sniffing the both of them.

Not has met Peter a couple of times and Stiles knows he finds Peter... interesting. Is as interested in him as Stiles is. It's something that now that Peter knows, or will at least figure out, Stiles and Not can finally...play with.

"Everyone stop talking!"

Stiles and Not both jump in surprise at the- Stiles' dad shouting.

Everyone else looks shocked but they instantly fall silent.

"Stiles, why don't you tell them the story." he suggests with a barely suppressed eye roll that Stiles knows means he's judging them for taking so long to figure out that something had been going on.

Stiles and Not, because they're both assholes, take turns telling the story, making up some parts as they go because they can and by then it's practically expected of them.

The pack looks resigned and exasperated by the end. It's obvious to Stiles that they've all given up trying to deal with the situation before it's even really started.

Only Peter and their dad look amused.

Their dad had come over to sit on Not's other side, phone out and texting, probably with Malissa, and acting like he isn't paying attention at all but he's got a little smile so Stiles knows everything is fine there.

Peter had sat down on the coffee table right in front of them, arms on his knees and leaning closer and closer to watch them intently, each knee very conveniently bumping against one of theirs.

Half the pack leaves after Stiles says 'The End' while Not says 'For Now'.

The other half wonder off, having lost interest completely.

"So, two months, huh." Peter says, looking calculatingly at them. They smile sweetly at him. "So you're planning to stick around then?" he asks, looking Not right in the eye, which doesn't surprise anyone at all.

Not shrugs but he's smiling so that's probably enough of an answer for Peter who nods and says he knows a guy who knows a guy who can get a legit birth certificate, all Peter would need is name.

Stiles and their dad both look at Not questioningly. Not is very quiet for a few long seconds before he glanced shyly at their dad. "Grandpa's name was Noah, that would work, wouldn't it?"

Their dad wraps his arm around No- Noah's shoulders and smiles at him. "Being named after the good grandfather is probably a sign." he sends Stiles a wink and Stiles doesn't even try to stop himself from giggling.

He might have started this whole thing because he was thinking of the evil queen in Snow White but their dad was right, his twin was anything but evil. He might, dare Stiles say it, be pretty okay most of the time.