#like guys. can we stop arguing about fictional characters for five seconds

[r4bidcherry]

genuinely where is all this ford hate yall are talking about cause im convinced atp that ur strawmaning and/or playing a game of broken telephone

ford DID wrong fidds and stan us simply pointing that out or making what are clearly jokes doesnt mean we think hes horrible and doesnt deserve happiness yall are saying were missing the point of his character like no were pointing out how hes made mistakes and ended up hurting people who loved him that doesnt mean we hate him or that he didnt love them back or that we hate him at least not for me

like what is him being complex and morally gray means we arent allowed to talk about it???

[oneoftheprettynerds]

Just My Type: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)

Chapter 2 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series.

Chapter 1: Welcome to the Darkside

Main Masterlist

A/N: This chapter is 2K words more than the last chapter and I’ve second guessed every single line in this one. This story is getting a lot of traction guys and I’m equal parts happy and scared. Thank you for the nice comments, they do encourage me. Also I’m just ranting feel free to skip this note haha. Your support in any form: like, comment or reblog is appreciated greatly. Also you can dm if you want to be friends, God knows I need those. Hopefully, this chap was worth the wait. Also, I made a poster for this on the main masterlist so check that out, it might be foreshadowing dome plot.

Warning: Eventual Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, a mild mental breakdown, Cheap Tricks later.

Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.

Summary: Steve can't ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can't get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.

Chapter 2: Just My Type

It had almost been a week since the incident and you had barely gotten a wink of sleep. When you drove back to your house that night, Steve surprisingly didn’t argue as you had expected. After that friend of his whispered something in his ears, you only assumed he was needed elsewhere and you couldn’t be more thankful for that. They escorted you to your car and Steve thanked you with a strained smile, words genuine but eyes calculating. You didn’t even wonder what went inside his head. You were thankful for the peace and quiet of your own car, content to just get out of the area and into your humble abode.

After you put the already asleep Grace to bed, you couldn’t bring yourself to get out of her room. You just sat on the floor beside the bed, hand intertwined with hers as you rested your head beside her tummy on the mattress.

Your adrenaline wore off and your limbs ached as your thoughts finally settled into place, the gravity of the catastrophe a few hours prior hitting you. Tears made their way down your cheeks as you realized that you both could have very well died tonight.

One bullet could have sealed each of your lives and you were basically defenseless had Steve not saved you against the creeping assaulter. You couldn’t commend yourself for even defending yourself against one attacker, the guilt of killing someone harboring in your tired head. Your quiet whimpers eventually wore you out, while Grace’s shallow breaths lulled you to sleep.

You didn’t manage to sleep for long though, every time your eyes closed, horrific images flashed in your mind. A blood curdling scream here, heaps of dead bodies there, with distant exploding sounds all around. You could see men clad in black holding guns to Grace’s head and whensoever you woke up, you just wondered how much more creative your mind could get, making these visuals so realistic.

When 8 AM rolled in, you didn’t wake Grace up even though it was Monday and you had work. You got up, changed into a long tee after a shower and called your office and then her daycare. You knew you would have a hard time going back to your normal life, to become trusting enough to leave her alone.

Your assumption about yourself was right. You took almost the entire week off, which your boss generously allowed you to after hearing your traumatic experience, which soon made the city news headlines. All your colleagues checked on you, almost once in the five day break you took, and sweetly enough offered to bring you anything you needed.

It was kind of them, but none of them could bring you what your heart genuinely craved: peace and assurance that you and Grace would be safe.

Even though Saturdays were off, you did go to work to see what you missed and where to start on again. You went in because you knew that the random spurt of resolution you got in the bathroom to collect your life, wouldn’t last.

To ease back into your normal life, you gathered your guts, called a babysitter and left home. You couldn’t bring yourself to leave Grace at the daycare just yet. One of your good friends offered to come in to the office and help you, even on the weekend and you were quite grateful to him.

When you both decided to take lunch in the nearby dining place, you both got to talking, the conversation obviously originating from ‘How have you been?’ and ‘Is Grace okay?’. You reminisced about how you used a photobooth to hide, grotesquely and uncomfortably chuckling when you remembered Sarah calling you her mom and how her dad saved you all.

You deliberately left the part where you killed someone and Steve shot someone too. You hadn’t come to terms with it yet and you stiffly restricted your mind whenever it tried to go down that lane.

He sensed how the conversation was becoming tense and distressing for you and briskly redirected the topic.

“I hope the dad was hot though?” He wiggled his eyes creepily and you snorted at his vulgarity, light for the first time in days.

“He was easy on the eyes; I will admit that.” You played along, recalling your girlfriends and how you used to ogle people.

“Don’t be a homewrecker though, I don’t support cheating.” He said nonchalantly, checking his phone as a notification bell rang off.

“He’s a widower.”

His eyes snapped up and met yours as his head tilted in confusion. “That’s a strange fact to know about someone you met for a few minutes.”

Steve’s even stranger comment about his dead wife popped in your mind and before you could stop yourself, you blurted that out as well.

“He even said and I quote, ‘She deserved what she got.’” He put his phone down, weirdly amused.

“Ooh Creepy! Do you think he is one of those husbands who kill their wives and bury them in the backyard? The podcasts always say that the psychopaths are visually handsome and charming. And his statement was quite vague and spooky.” He continued munching, and you felt that now Aiden was really paying attention unlike before.

“Steve did have a gun while searching for Sarah, come to think of it.” You drank your tea and awaited his response. What you did not expect was his eyes to widen and worry to cloud his features.

“Um Widower Steve with a toddler Sarah? At the place where The Vices attacked?” He mumbled, grabbing his phone and doing God knows what on it. Your eyebrows furrowed and before you could ask him what was up with his antics, he resumed.

“This is a long shot but I really hope your Steve didn’t look like this.” He positioned the phone in your vision, and you could already tell it was Steve by the sapphire blue of his eyes piercing through the screen into your soul. The picture was a month or two old, his hair was much longer when you met him than in the photo.

“This is him.” Your eyes met Aiden’s and worry visibly took over his features as his forehead creased and jaw tense.

He looked around the restaurant, finding it empty in the afternoon. He leaned and whispered, “This Steve of yours is dangerous.”

You interrupted Aiden, even though you already knew Steve was, the sight of his armed men still fresh in your head, and inquired, “Why do you say so?”

“It’s just like the fictional stories we hear from our parents, except here, in this city of ours, every myth holds true. There are really powerful men, untouchable by law, who reign the city silently and live luxuriously. Every shady, under the table deal you’ve heard of, transpires. Illegal trades, fraud schemes and bounty hunters are not fictional, they exist here. These men kill whatever hinders them and trust me, you don’t want to be the deer caught in their Jaguar’s headlights.”

Ice froze in your veins again, resembling the fear you felt that night but now because of your deemed ‘savior’. You convinced yourself that you had not wronged him in any way, instead had saved his daughter’s life.

“Are you in contact with him? If you are, distance yourself cleverly, don't block him immediately.”

“No, we just parted ways near my car, he thanked me for Sarah and was called away. It’s almost been a week and he hasn’t reached out if that’s what you mean. We didn’t exchange contacts and I don’t think I even told him my full name.” You explained yourself as if you were on the witness stand in court, trying to convince yourself more than Aiden.

“Pray that he doesn’t remember you more than that, if at all. I’m being totally honest here in telling you this, I’m genuinely worried for you and Grace. You are smart but he is powerful. He has unimaginable resources and if you become more than a speck of dust on his windshield, you are screwed. There is no exaggeration here.” You took his words to your heart and swore to be careful, if not for yourself then for Grace.

The rest of the day went by and you found yourself dwelling on and worrying about Aiden’s words. At least he put it out there as it was. Heeding his advice, you did google Steve on your phone, finally finding him in the topmost news headline when you added ‘Buck’ in the search bar as well.

‘With 38 lawsuits pending against businessman Steve Rogers, the filers have lost all hope in prosecuting him. All cases are being drawn out for indefinite periods of time by the Chief Justice Bruce……’

Aiden was right.

Businessmen was code for illegal mob heads. Cases being stretched on meant he was, in fact, invincible, at least to the common man’s fists.

You flickered through several titles, each one more surprising than the last. He was believed to be involved in the carnival attack, alleged for three hit and run cases that he didn’t lose but the witnesses swore they saw him driving and was also rumored to have brought in quintals of drugs just last week, but the packets just evaporated into thin air and there was no proof of their existence in the first place even on incessant searching.

Every crime of his made you shudder and you mentally thanked Aiden for pulling you out of your oblivion. Your mind raced and heart palpated and you cursed yourself for being so drastically unaware even after living here for almost four years. Technically speaking, Steve and you were even, him saving your life and you saving his daughter’s. No logical reason came to your mind for him contacting you ever.

You wished as Aiden said and assured yourself that your paths would never cross again, Steve not having reached out in a week, so hopefully never again.

That thought went out the window when you reached home to find a box awaiting you. Hannah, the babysitter you had called, informed you it came around 5 in the evening and was exclusively to be opened by you today.

Your mind raced as you paid the babysitter, your hands sweaty as you tried not to think about the gift and its sender. There was an apparently clear answer to who mailed it but you refused to accept that, courtesy of Aiden.

The box was of the height of Grace, it was black with red hearts painted across it; some red roses also sparingly adorned it. You opened the lid and found tons of red tissues and a multi-flower bouquet adorned with mostly red roses and a few purple and pink flowers.

Because of your frequent gardening in your backyard, you knew all the flowers’ meanings. To sum it all up, red flowers, especially roses were used for courting someone. Pink meant admiration, purple for beauty and you knew the ‘violet’ flowers were for loyalty.

As your nerves increased tenfold, you willed yourself to get it over with and empty out the box first, ignoring the little card in your bouquet, saving the ‘best’ for last. You find a mini bouquet inside but unlike yours, it had chocolates of every kind. You did read its card and cringed when it was for Grace, bothered not by the deed but by the doer.    

Further inside were some animal plushies, face masks, perfumes, scented body lotions and shampoos. Your head hurt thinking about the ‘single mother care package’ delivered to you by someone you refused to acknowledge.

As Grace sat in her playpen occupied, you dared to pick your card and read its message, your heart beating unrealistically fast for someone who refused to accept the cruciality of her situation.

~

I can’t thank you enough in this lifetime for saving my little princess. The gift of your help is more than anything money could ever buy for me. Please accept this invitation of mine for dinner tomorrow night, 7PM at La Bonne Nuit, as a symbol of my sincere gratitude for everything you’ve done. I’ll gets the kids covered and pick you up, you just be ready and look as amazing you always do.                                                                                           Sincerely,                                                                      Steve Rogers

                                                                                            ~

You stilled as you read it over and over again.

An invitation, your ass. Even in writing his authority portrayed, there was no question and hope for you coming, he just stated that you’d come. Looking pretty as always? You just met him once, in the middle of a calamity, covered in dirt and blood.

All the red roses and gifts screamed his romantic interest but you illusioned yourself into thinking they meant gratitude. You wouldn’t be able to digest it all otherwise.

Knowing what you knew now about Steve, you understood there was no denying the dinner tomorrow. You had to get out of his clutches and distance yourself, but as Aiden had so rightfully said, cleverly.

That night you laid in bed mulling over your next course of actions. You had called the gift shop to return the unwarranted presents you received but they said it was non refundable and anonymous to trace. You bitterly snorted in their face, they put a card with Steve’s name on it for heaven’s sake!

You didn’t flinch even when you realized you never gave Steve your address, neither for mailing stuff nor for picking you up. There was no number given to call him and thank or to call him and deny. The bastard had planned it all out, and you felt like you were driving in a one way lane, going deeper into the tunnel. Somewhere among your all-relentless fretting, you managed to finally sleep.

 When the doorbell rang, your eyebrows furrowed. It was just 6 PM and you weren’t expecting anybody else except for Steve. You had already begun getting ready, having developed a habit of keeping an extra margin of time now having a toddler. You still had to assemble Grace’s essential backpack, fill it with her meds and bottles.

While still putting on your diamond earring, you made your way to the door, unlocking it to find a redhead grinning at you. Before you could interact with her, a small body clung to your legs and you looked down to find the azure eyed kid that put you in this mess, Sarah, smiling up at you.

“Mama! You look pwetty!” She looked up in awe and now aware that she didn’t have a mother, you were even more so coerced into accepting this title rather than telling the kid that 'you are semi orphaned'.

“I’m Wanda, Sarah’s nanny. Mr. Rogers told me to pick her friend, Grace, up for the night?” So, this was what Steve meant. Bringing Sarah was proof enough of her legitimacy, but behind her you saw ‘Buck’ salute you from the driver’s seat of the black car. One of these days, you needed to learn his real name.

You invited Wanda inside and Sarah ran to Grace immediately, grabbing and whining while asking Grace to give her some popcorn she was munching on, her fist generously full.

In your open plan kitchen, you grabbed two plastic bowls, filled them with each with the tub of popcorn that sat in the microwave and handed each toddler one, fortunately quietening Sarah. Sarah obeyed Grace, in first thanking you, their ‘mama’ and then following her to her open playpen.

You faced Wanda again who sat on a barstool and kept on beaming. If your annoyance at her amusement showed, she sure didn’t let it falter the smile.

“Mr. Rogers told me you’d worry about your daughter, but I assure you she’d be in more than capable hands.” All you could focus on was how self-reassured she was. “I’ve served him for almost two years, the last family I served, I was there for 8 years and before them, I was employed for 3. I know the general bedtime and snacks, all I need from you is information about her allergies.”

You nodded and told her about Grace, her meds and what all you packed. When you got to know that her family owned the daycare Grace went to, you were finally somewhat convinced. After seeing them off, it was about fifteen minutes later, that the devil disguised in Prada showed up at your door.

You grabbed your purse and your keys. Wiping your sweaty palms on your dress, you opened the door. Steve stood there, a smirk lodging on his handsome face. His blue, three-piece suit perfectly paired with his cerulean eyes was impressive to say the least.

He was dressed to kill, and it appeared as if you were his first victim.

As your eyes took him in from top to bottom, his did the same lazily, taking their time, resting at certain places for longer period than others.

“You look stunning.”

You knew you did. You wore one of your more expensive dresses when you found out La Bonne Nuit to be one of the few seven-star hotels in the country. In hindsight, if you’d have dressed worse, maybe he’d have left you alone.

“Thank you.”

“Shall we?” He offered you his hand and you obliged with your palm in his. Your other hand pulled the doorknob while you stepped out, all alarms already set-in place. He waited while you locked and put the keys in and when you were done, with a soft kiss along your knuckles, he pulled you along.

The act surprised you, your stomach turning and your gut wrenching and you wondered if you’d be able to process the food after all, with your upset digestive system.

Like a proper gentleman, he opened the door for you and when you settled, he took his position at the driver’s seat. The silence was painful for you, your overthinking finally filling ideas in your head that you avoided contemplating about all day, focusing on Grace.

He was relaxed though; his humming was proof enough.

Mid way through, your thoughts were rudely interrupted when a hand housed itself on your knee. You glanced to find Steve’s palm slightly rubbing your knee. If it was meant to be assuring, you certainly didn’t feel like it.

You frowned and looked up to Steve who still had the arrogant smirk on his face, eyes straight ahead on the road, giving no indication of his inappropriate touching.

You wanted to swat his hand away but a brainwave dashed through your head and a disturbing thought made you halt, that whether he carried guns to restaurants as well, since carnivals were no big deal.

You ignored his hand and continued looking outside, pretending to ignore it as well as he did. Your scowl was a huge giveaway though.

You didn’t know that, but when your eyes found their way out, his finally rested on your face, the smirk growing even more.

Thankfully, apart from the incongruous touching, the dinner went okay-ish. The food and wine were impeccable, perfect even, the restaurant on the hotel’s top floors was so picturesque. You tried to savor your one-time experience there, knowing you’d no way be able to come back there.

Well, you tried to relish as much as you could while your mind still sat there, wary of the human in front of you. If you’d ignore your journey here, Steve was nothing short of a true gentleman, often making you wonder if you had imagined his hand on you.

This ‘friendly’ date you were having was probably one of the best you have had, he had left no expenses. He appeared to be interested in your work, about your childhood and about Grace’s but you swiftly avoided his questions about her father. He was growing a tad bit too comfortable for your liking and you still refused to entertain the idea that this was a ‘date’ date.

When you were finally onto dessert, the last course of your meal, your table was shadowed by the broad frame of a brunette and his date. He clapped Steve’s shoulder and Steve rose to hug him, you awkwardly smiled.

“It’s been far too long since you’ve been here, Cap. Why don’t you and your gorgeous date stop by my penthouse for a bit? We could finally go over the papers you sent me, in person?” He winked, they discussed something more and then went away, his date bowing and trailing after him as well.

Steve claimed his seat again, and finally told you about the interrupter. “That was my good friend, Tony Stark, always in a hurry. I’ll introduce you to him when we meet him later.”

“I think I’ll be heading home; you need not worry about my introduction, I hardly think we’ll ever run into each other again.” His eyes narrowed and you clarified, “Me and Mr. Stark, I meant.”

That’s good, don’t associate yourself with more of his kind.

“He was so kind in inviting you though, it would be rude to refuse.”

“It’s already late, Steve. And I’ve never left Grace alone for a night yet. What if she’s antsy? What if she is bothered? What if she feels unsafe? She's only used to very few people, and after last week, I-” You had started the sentence hoping to use Grace as an excuse but every word of yours succeeded in making you more apprehensive.

The carnival night flashed in your mind, along with the nightmares and you started panicking even more. Your hands clammy, your dessert spoon fell in your lap as sought your phone in your purse, hoping to call Wanda for an update. You felt like a terrible mother, who left her child with a stranger, only a week after she suffered trauma, just to go on a date with a mobster.

Steve reached across the table and grabbed your fidgety hands and as you wriggled to get your hands free, he softly called your name. Voice stern but vocals gentle. Your blurry eyes snapped to meet his while he guided you to breathe deeply, in and out.

His firm hold convinced you to listen to him, you’d never free yourself of them otherwise.

When you had calmed a bit, he withdrew his hands and fetched his phone. Your thoughts slowed down, and you wondered if anyone here was judging you. Your little scene, mercifully, went unnoticed by the other affluent people dining here.

Steve handed you his phone where four colored frames rested, the screen showing you Grace and Sarah cuddled in a frilly, pink four poster where Wanda sat too, her lips moving.

The feed was live and the screen muted, both the toddlers’ eyes fluttering close slowly, on the bridge of sleep.

You handed the phone back to Steve and drank your water while he rubbed circles on the back of one of your hands. You never freaked out like you did right now, always collected and never giving into anxiety. What had happened to you?

Well, In your defense, you had never experienced a disaster either.

“The kids are safe; I’m never putting either of them in harm’s way ever again.”

Your mind did catch the plural in his statement but you promised yourself you would not let it get that far and continued drinking your water, emptying the entire glass.

“The HD image you just saw was by cameras Tony recently developed. His technology is amazing, I’ll take you to his lab sometime.” You appreciated his attempt to redirect the topic but you also focused on how tech-savvy his friends were as well.

You hummed and agreed, trying to be ambiguous with your answer.

When you finished your dessert, you hoped he’d forget about his ‘friend’ Tony but to no avail.

“His penthouse is two floors above. He owns this hotel as well in case you didn’t notice.” He led you to the elevator as you recalled the Starks Group logo you saw earlier sometime.

Some AI named Jarvis opened the elevator doors for you in the living room of Tony’s penthouse. It was even more magnificent than the restaurant earlier, the place illuminated by several hues of different colours. Steve chuckled and strung you along, introducing you to a ginger-head named Pepper, who was Tony’s date earlier and went to search for his acquaintance.

She offered you wine but you politely declined, opting for water instead. She brought your glass to you from the extravagant kitchen and you both sat on the barstool there instead of the living room. Too anxious to say the wrong thing, you stayed quiet until her voice filled the deafening silence.

“So, Steve almost never brings dates around. You two serious?” She questioned, leaning towards you, waiting for some gossip, no doubt.

“Oh no! We aren’t dating. He just invited me for a friendly dinner. We merely met the other week.” You deliberately left out the part where there was bombing by crime families and attack on the common man.

“Honey, in the mob life, you don’t just introduce random people to the fam.”

Oh, she wasn’t being shy about the whole mob ordeal. It seemed weird to hear it from her, since you and Steve hadn’t used the word yet. Maybe he figured you already knew considering the circumstances you met in or how famous he was.

“We really aren’t romantically involved. This dinner was just a gesture of gratitude if I’m being truthful.”

She chuckled, as if you were a kid making stories and quizzed, “Gratitude for what?”

You trapped yourself into that one. You didn’t know how to answer her and your brain downright blanked. Surprisingly,, Steve came to your rescue and two voices interposed your conversation.

Steve called your name and as you turned to the men, he continued, “She’s the one who saved Sarah the other night. You know the story, Wilson probably got it printed.”

“Impressive, really. Hey, I’m Tony and I see you’ve already met Pepper, my fiancée.” He shook your hand and kissed your knuckles, much like Steve did earlier in the day. You bowed, smiled and mumbled a ‘nice to meet you as well’. They escorted you to the elevator and Tony continued.

“Well, it’s not everyday Steve brings brave and extraordinarily attractive women around. Welcome to the family, sweetie. She’s a keeper, Cap.” He winked while saying the last sentence and before you could correct him, Steve ushered you inside the elevator, bro-hugging him. As the doors closed, Pepper winked at you from behind Tony and a shudder ran through you.

Okay you had to make it clear, get on the same page.

As the elevator music filled the silence, you started, “Steve, look we aren’t-”, “I served in the army, that’s why Tony calls me Cap, short for captain.” And crudely got interrupted.

“I never wanted to get into the army, I thought people were fools to sacrifice the one life they got. But I went to make my mother’s dream a reality, I really loved her, you know? Sarah is named after her, my mother.”

His voice broke at the end and as much as you wanted to redirect onto your former topic, you couldn’t. This amiability of yours would be the death of you.

“She died alone in her bed; I was dispatched too far away to even make it back for her funeral.” He mumbled but you heard him clear as a sunny day, and he leaned back onto the wall for support while you awkwardly rubbed his shoulder to return the support he provided earlier during your mental breakdown.

He closed his eyes and gathered himself, taking deep breaths. As the elevator dinged, his eyes opened and he gave you a strained smile.  

The car ride to his mansion was painfully silent, his mind too sidetracked to focus on harassing you again. With all that you went through today, you almost forgot about that.

His mansion was enormous, twenty guards stood outside and even more patrolled the lawn. He took you inside his house, the interior even more detailed and scenic than Tony’s temporary residence.

You just concentrated on swiftly getting Grace and Uber-ing back. As Steve showed you earlier, Grace and Sarah hugged and slept and it was a meticulous task to untangle their limbs without waking either of them up andnd get Grace with her back-pack. You thanked Wanda on the way out, hoping to avoid Steve but somehow he stood outside before you, leaning on his sleek black car. He opened the door for you before you could refuse the ride. You settled with Grace in the backseat itself, trying to be smart.

He just summoned one of his guards to drive and sat alongside you in the back. You didn’t let the annoyance at his clinginess show though. You just focused on Grace who drooled over your shoulder.

Hopefully, there won’t be any point of exposure to him ever again, your circles didn’t match, both social and professional. Your Venn diagrams didn’t overlap anywhere. This should be reason enough to avoid meeting ever again.

He didn’t try anything even this ride around. You doubted it was hardly because of the toddler or because of the driver. He did as he pleased, if he wanted to he could very well grope you. Luckily, he wasn't in the mood.

When you reached your dwelling, you stepped out hastily, thanking him in a whisper. You fumbled to get your keys out, but since everything you held slowed you down, he caught up with you without even trying.

He took and held Grace’s bag while you drew the keys out, Grace still on your hip. He handed you the bag back, “So this is it, I guess?”

“Yeah, tonight was a total delight. Thanks for the dinner and everything, really.” You put up your best façade, hoping to convince him.

“It was, thanks to you. The company matters the most.”

You awkwardly chuckled and you sensed him leaning in, his eyes flickering shut. Your eyes closed as you turned your head to avoid him, so that his lips would peck your cheek.

They never came.

Your eyes opened to find his and he chuckled, leaning in once again swiftly, catching you off guard this time. He didn’t meet your lips though, he kissed the corner of your mouth, lips overlapping for a fraction of skin.

“In due time, baby.” He stepped back and strolled to his car leisurely, content in his own world.

You opened your door and slammed it shut, the peck feeling wrong on so many levels. It felt more sensual than a lover’s kiss, leaving room for intimacy and longing.

Your thoughts ran a hundred kilometers an hour, the most absurd but nauseatingly true being, this was a date and it was not your last encounter.

Steve smirked outside in his car, the dinner an absolute success in his opinion. Tonight just made him feel that you both were more than compatible for each other. You needing him during your mental breakdown, him relaxing under your shy touch, Tony’s approval, not that important though, and your anxiety for Grace was the best part, because he, more often than he’d like to admit, fussed about Sarah the same way, agonizing and fretting her well being.

A text lit up his black screen and his grin widened even more if possible.

‘The Stark cameras are up and working, Sir.’

[gascon-en-exil]

Would you argue that the relationship between Edelgard and TWSITD is very nebulous? Cause there's text that shows she is using them for her own means and it was her choice but there's also them destroying Arianrhod after she defies them (one in a million but still). I know there's a line in Verdant Wind where Claude argues that they were using each other for their own ends.

...Probably? It's ambiguous, but the biggest problem is that there's no answer here that makes Edelgard looks good even though her defenders have been known to flip opinions to whichever sounds better in the moment.

If you say that Edelgard is too weak to oppose the Agarthans for the 9ish years that she's allied with them, then she's a helpless victim of the people who abused her and not at all what one would call a strong female character (especially when this is then stacked with just how dependent she is on the men in her life to give her purpose and/or accomplish her goals: her father, Hubert, Thales, and potentially male Byleth). Conversely, if you say that Edelgard is using the Agarthans and that she could deal with them easily on her own, then this makes her complaining about having to work with them (again, for nearly a decade) ring hollow and makes her sound like just as much of a villain as the Agarthans themselves - each of them just waiting for the right moment to screw the other one over, and damn anyone who gets in their way in the interim. The story as a whole tends to support the latter in that it utterly fails to present the Agarthans as consistent threats - their base is raided and wiped out in 1-2 chapters, Dimitri takes out their entire leadership without even realizing it, a lot of their action and inaction in Part 1 looks incredibly stupid once you stop and think about it for five minutes - but I don't think we're supposed to look at it that deeply. IS seems to have been aiming for an Arvis and Manfroy situation where each side thinks they're playing the other, but because CF never drops the other shoe that is Genealogy's second generation we never get any kind of definitive revelation there - dragon-possessed inbred antichrist or otherwise.

My own headcanon came about mostly because I really like Hubert but am at best indifferent to Edelgard. Hubert is well aware that his lady swings a mean axe and can give very pretty speeches, but that she's awful at strategic planning (case in point: the Prologue). As such, it makes sense that he'd be the one to propose the alliance with the Agarthans and that he'd act as liaison to them; they've got the magic and the tech, and they have a common enemy in Rhea. Hubert allows Edelgard to think she's in charge while preventing her from getting her hands dirty with the Agarthans on her payroll, because he likes being as much of an over-the-top evil bastard as possible and because he wants to get his hands on more of those sweet dark magical innovations he's been an unapologetic fanboy of for years...preferably after he's cut out the middleman and killed Thales as his only competition for the role of the Most Evil Man in Fódlan. Also, in true Nice Guy fashion Hubert believes that if only he can help Edelgard fulfill her dreams then she'll finally notice him...except she never will because Edelgard is Hot for Teacher and a professorial plank of wood just walked into her life....

Does that headcanon strip Edelgard of much of her actual agency and render her little more than a figurehead for a creepy villain who's basically the fictional embodiment of her straight male fanbase? Pretty much, but it's not like the game ever does much to contradict that. At most it offers you a choice of male characters (and f!Byleth, using a script identical to her male counterpart) for Edelgard and her actions to be defined around. Hubert at least is vastly more entertaining on his own merits than any of the alternatives, and while Edelgard is never going to put out for him Ferdinand is a different - and far more amusing - story altogether.

[i-like-writing-stuff]

four months; part 2 [five hargreeves x reader]

a/n: thank you all so so much for your support and feedback! i literally could not believe that the first part has over 200 notes and yall want a continuation like omagash??? im soft, thank you guys <3

here is the long awaited part two, but before we dive into that, i felt the need to ask yall if you want five to be aged up?? in most x reader i’ve read on this site, five is aged up, but I felt like, in my case, i didn’t really needed to mention that because i am only like two months older than the actor, and its not like im gonna write smut with him- gross. point is, idk. should i age him up tho??? idk what to do, so here are both aidan and timothee to soothe ur heart for this second part!! <3

(the gifs do not belong to me, lemme know if u know who made them so i can give credits- they’re real cute mah gawsh!!!)

alsoo if you want more five imagines or literally any other hargreeves sibling or fictional character ousside tua, feel free to leave a request in my inbox! kisses <3

summary: after a long family meeting and more booze, you decide to make a bold move and profess your buried feelings.

part 1

“Men are stupid shitheads.” You concluded, setting your flask on the counter, looking at the new bangs Allison had just cut for you.

Even in her drunken state, they seemed to be very nicely done. You were quite surprised by the way they turned out, but pleased nonetheless. It was a spontaneous decision, getting bangs. You had been sitting in the hair salon she was working at with her, Klaus and Vanya after a not so great family meeting.

Hugs were shared, true, but then arguments started and before you even knew it, Luther stormed out, Diego followed him, Five went missing for whatever business he had, and Klaus claimed that Ben was not even there- apparently, ghosts can’t time travel.

So, it was just the four of you, drunk in a hair salon, with too much alcohol and way too many scissors around you, complaining about how shitty your love lives could be.

“Amen.” Klaus raised his drink in the air, “I’ll drink to that.”

“Right?” Allison nodded, combing her second client, Klaus, “The nerve of Ray! I mean, one thing goes wrong and he’s on a warpath!” She vented, holding the bottle of liquor in her free hand, “I mean, doesn’t know who I am?! No, no! No, Ray- you know exactly who I am, you just can’t handle it!”

You watched with a raised brow as Vanya was out of zone, pretending to be shooting the long line of empty bottles gathered in front of her, as Allison kept on continuing her rant. Her husband had just seen her use her powers on the night they started the protest, and was now having a real hard time comprehending what was going on. You didn’t see him at home either, so you figured he may have been upset with you as well for maybe hiding the secret. Or maybe he thought you were like her, who knows?

“Hey, wouldn’t it be weird if Five grew up all hot?” Klaus suddenly asked, taking a drag out of his cigarette, as he got up from his seat to walk around the hair salon, “Wouldn’t that be weird?”

“Why would you even think of your brother like that?” You asked riddled, narrowing your eyes at the man as his sisters almost gagged at the thought.

“Oh, please, you’ve been thinking that, haven’t you?” Klaus asked, pointing at you as you took another swig from your nearly empty flask.

“I... I mean- he’s... Five... uh... no comment!” You suddenly declared, at loss of words, as you got up from your seat, trying to maintain your balance as you made your way towards the bottle of liquor to fill your flask again.

“When are you two gonna confess your feelings?” Allison asked with a groan, letting her head fall backwards as she sat on the chair, “It’s getting really tiring!”

“We have an apocalypse going on!” You argued, “There’s no time for feelings!”

“This is the perfect time for feelings!” Klaus chimed in, taking another drag out of his cigarette, “These might be your last six days on Earth! Do you want to die regretting that you never told Five how you felt about him?”

“I’m not having this conversation anymore.” You declared, out of arguments, as you poured liquor in your flask, “Why don’t we talk about Allison’s crush on Luther instead?”

“We have never even kissed!” Allison defended herself, causing Vanya to spin on her chair confused, looking between the three of you.

“Yeah, but you guys were making little sick moon-dog eyes at each other all through puberty and breakfasts and... all that.” Klaus waved her off, sipping from his own flask.

“Aren’t we all brothers and sisters, or...?” Vanya wondered confused, as you and Klaus snorted amused at her innocence.

“Well... technically...” Allison tried to find an excuse or explanation, but she was having a hard time putting her thoughts in place.

“Technically?” Klaus raised a brow, “If you....” He stammered, trying to regain his train of thought, “If you have to use the word technically, you’re already in trouble.”

“Okay, can we go back to Five and Y/N?” Allison tried to change the subject, “Or maybe at least help me save my marriage?”

“That’s like...” Klaus stumbled on his own feet, filling his flask again, as you leaned against Vanya’s chair curiously, “That’s like asking a nun how to hump someone’s leg! I mean, who in this room knows shit about relationships? This one?” He asked, pointing at Vanya, “In secret love with some farm Frau!”

“Her name’s Sissy.” Vanya informed him.

“Which is an improvement on her previous love interest.” He said, looking at you and Allison, as you shook your heads to slightly tell him to shut up, “...the serial killer.”

“What?!” Vanya yelled, looking between you and Allison for an explanation, but you just softly waved her off, promising to remind her later.

“And look at this one!” Klaus ignored the three of you, pointing at... well, you, “A fifty year old assassin, who got the chance to be a teen again, but she is too afraid to admit her feelings for the... wait, is Five a boy or a man?”

“Both?” You raised a brow, unsure of the answer.

“Meanwhile, I’m carrying a torch for a soldier I haven’t technically met yet, and Luther is in love with his sister.” Klaus waved you off, trying to keep his balance again on his feet.

“Okay, again- we are not biological!” Allison tried to defend herself once more, but Klaus simply ignored her.

“Face it, the healthiest long-term relationship in this family was when Five was banging that mannequin.” He said, making all of you nod in agreement, as you couldn’t help but confess, taking another chug out of your flask;

“I can’t believe I got to the point where I was jealous of Dolores.”

Okay, maybe ‘banging’ and ‘jealous’ were strong words, but you had to admit you were not that pleased when one of the first things that Five did when he got back to 2019, was go to some store to get back his plastic girlfriend who kept him company in the four decades he spent all by himself in the apocalypse.

You understood his mind, though. You would have gone insane as well if you had to be all alone after the end of the world, without another soul on the planet. Nonetheless, you still were maybe a tad too happy when he decided to return her to the store.

Leaving you the only woman he had eyes for, unbeknownst to you.

“I’m gonna tell Sissy that I love her.” Vanya suddenly declared, straightening her position confidently.

“You go, girl!” You cheered, clapping for your friend.

“I don’t want any secrets.” She said, making you and the other two nod in agreement, contemplating about your own lives.

“Yeah!” Allison said, getting up with the bottle of alcohol tightly clutched in her hand, “Yeah, yeah- you’re right! Yes, ‘cause, you know- if this all goes tits-up, the least I can do is be honest with my husband!

“Oh, does that mean I have to face my cult?” Klaus sighed, “I just hate group break-ups, it’s why I stopped dating twins!”

You pondered about it for a moment, in your state that was definitely not the most sober. You had a lot of alcohol coursing through your veins, but you felt like maybe it was better. You could think with your heart more than you could think with your brain, and your heart was telling you that your friends were right.

They all are getting themselves ready to take big risks in their lives, why shouldn’t you? They had a valid point; the world was gonna end in six days if you guys couldn’t find a way to solve this. Last time you didn’t have the brightest plan, so why should this time be a success? Reality hit you; there was a real big chance that you might die.

So why not just be honest with Five? What was the worst that could happen? You manage to save the world and Five rejects you? Big deal!

Well, it actually was a big deal.

“What if he rejects me?” You asked all of a sudden, causing the three siblings to turn to you, “What if I tell Five how I feel about him and he rejects me? I know maybe at my age I shouldn’t be this anxious about a man, but... it’s not like I’m going anywhere, I’m glued to the Hargreeves clan.”

And it was true. After the events of the 2019 apocalypse, right before you and the others got separated, you shared an adorable moment in which you confessed to each other how happy you were to have met and be taken into their family as one of their own.

“Normally, I’d say to not ponder on that for too... long.” Klaus slurred, “But given that it’s Five, you don’t even have to worry about that.”

“He’s right.” Allison shrugged, “That won’t be a problem.

“I have no memory of any of you, but from the hug I’ve seen you two share earlier- you’re not just friends.” Vanya spoke up, making you stare into nothingness for a moment.

I mean, it’s Five we are talking about. If he were to have any feelings, it’s not like he’d be honest with them or act, right? It would be up to you to make the first move.

You let out a long sigh, rubbing your hands on your upper arms, reminding yourself of the hug. It may have been the first time you and Five actually hugged, in all the years you’ve known each other. The way he held you close and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, taking in your scent, feeling you in his arms, even if for him it had been only four days. You had to live with the thought that he may be dead for months.

And you hated that, you knew you wanted him alongside you. You wanted that little rude, at times obnoxious dipshit, with a soft heart- as much as he hated to admit it. You loved how much he cared about his family, about saving the world. Five is a great person; he is caring and has a big heart, as much as he tried to hide it behind his trashmouth.

“Fine!” You groaned, letting your head fall backwards, “I’ll tell Five I fucking love him and his dipshit face!”

“Yes!” Klaus clapped, as Allison and Vanya cheered proudly, “Come here!”

You and Vanya walked towards him, as Allison wrapped an arm around his waist, waiting for the two of you to skip towards them, pulling you into a group hug, as “Twistin’ the night away” by Sam Cooke blasted on the radio, causing the four of you to start a small dance party, letting for the first time in a long while your problems just go away.

For the sake of the song.

After a couple more hours of drinking, gossiping and dancing, the four of you decided to finally part ways and attend your promised business. Klaus went to deal with his cult, as Allison decided to be completely honest with her husband at home and Vanya was going to confess to Sissy.

As for you?

You were going to tell Five Hargreeves you were in love with him.

“Hey, dipshit!” You confidently yelled, running up the stairs of the store, trying to find Five.

“Y/N?” Five frowned, walking out of the kitchen with a coffee mug in his hands and a confused look on his face, “Are you... even more drunk? And did you get bangs- what the...?”

“Shut up.” You waved him off, walking towards him to grab the mug out of his hand to sober yourself up, “Why in the hell are you even drinking coffee at this hour?”

“I’m... trying to calm myself...” He frowned, watching as you chugged his freshly poured coffee.

“Normally I’d ask.” You said, setting the mug on the counter, shaking your head, “But right now what I have to say is more important.”

“Is that so?” Five raised a brow curiously, as you slowly slapped your cheeks, trying to get the room to stop moving, “Why don’t you go to bed?” He asked, gently pushing you towards the couch, “And we talk in the morning? I don’t really have time for this.”

“No!” You yelled, stopping in your tracks to poke his chest, “We don’t have to talk! I talk and you- you listen!” You said, poking his chest again, “You never have time for anything, all you can think of is your stupid apocalypse!”

“Oh yes, isn’t that a trivial thing to be thinking of?” He asked with a sarcastic smile, crossing his arms.

“I don’t need your sarcasm!” You yelled, poking his chest a third time, feeling him get more tense.

“I swear to God, Y/N, if you do that one more time-...” Five took in a deep breath, as he could feel as he was slowly losing his patience.

“Shut up!” You groaned, watching as his brows knitted in confusion, “I’m trying to confess my feelings for you, you moron!”

“W...What?” He asked, as his face suddenly softened, unfolding his arms.

“I’m in love with you!” You sighed, rubbing your face, “Okay? I-I am in love with you and I am trying to sober myself up, but I think I may have had too much to drink.”

“You think?” Five scoffed, slowly leading you towards the couch, “Are you sure you’re not saying this just because you have a ton of alcohol coursing through you?”

“Well... kinda, ‘cause if I were sober there was no way in hell I would have confessed.” You puffed, complying, as you let yourself guided by him, “Allison, Klaus and Vanya all convinced me that I should tell you, that we only have six days left on Earth and in case we don’t save it... I shouldn’t be going down with regrets.”

Five listened to your every word carefully, as you continuing venting about how his siblings spent the whole day trying to convince you to tell him about your feelings, as he slowly held your hands, as you took a seat on the couch. He nodded at your words to let you know that he was listening, as he took two pillows off the armchairs beside, placing them at one end, softly pushing you down.

“...and then Klaus said that he hates group breakups.” You said, not even noticing what was going on, feeling your lids get heavier once your head met the pillow.

“Not a surprise there...” Five muttered, grabbing the blanket that was rested on top of the couch, placing it over you.

“Are you trying to dismiss me?” You wondered, but still making yourself more comfortable, as you sat on your side, with your head facing Five, who knelt in front of you tired.

He bit back a smile, watching as you slowly closed your eyes. He knew you were extremely drunk, he could see that in the way exhaust took over you. Not only you had a lot of alcohol in your system, but you’ve also had some long couple of days, and some longer ones were ahead of you until you knew for a fact the world was safe once more.

“I don’t know how it is, that you’re the one person who actually makes me feel... soft.” He confessed, watching your lips curve into a smile at his words, “You... drunken idiot.”

“I regret nothing.” You said proudly, as Five couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, softly stroking your hair to help you fall asleep sooner.

“We’ll see about that in the morning.” He smirked amused, watching as you pouted.

“You never gave me an answer, you know.” You pointed out, letting his soft touch calm you down, as you felt sleep slowly take over you.

“You never gave me a question.” He retorted, knowing for sure that if your eyes were opened, you would roll them at him.

“I think you like to hear me say that I am in love with you, it’s the third time I have to say it.” You said, slowly placing your hands under your pillow, making yourself more comfortable.

“I am happy to see that you still know how to count.” Five said, placing some wild strands of hair behind your ear.

“Screw you.” You said, making him grin, as he went back to stroking your hair.

“In this whole... shitty situation I managed to get myself into, you, Y/N, might as well be the only thing keeping me sane... surprisingly.” Five frowned at the last bit, watching as you opened your eyes, shifting your head to watch him, “I love you too, moron.”

“I never said I love you.” You smirked, teasing him as he rolled his eyes.

“You little chipmunk...” Five sighed, shaking his head in disbelief amused, as you leaned into his touch more, closing your eyes, pleased with yourself.

“Yeah, but you still love me.” You said, not once dropping that smirk on your lips.

“You’re impossible, did you know that?” He wondered, resting his forearm on the couch beside you, as he knelt on the floor, trying to make himself more comfortable, noticing the way you were enjoying the scalp massage... for free.

“A little bit.” You slowly shrugged, wrapping your arms around his, once you felt it beside you.

Five watched with a soft smile as you pulled his arms closer to your face, nuzzling into it with a satisfied smile, happy that you listened to your friends.

And deep down, so was Five thanking his siblings.

[itsclydebitches]

YYH Recaps: Episode 1, Surprised to be Dead

Hello, all you hypothetical readers! It's a beautiful spring day and I have a free afternoon ahead of me, so what better time to start another massive project while I guilty stuff my other WIPs deep into the depths of my hard drive? Yeah. Iffy life choices aside, someone mentioned a few weeks back that they'd love for me to recap a show I have more positive things to say about than negative (RIP RWBY) and ever since Netflix announced that their live-action adaptation of Yu Yu Hakusho is in the works, I've been itching for a re-watch of the anime. With the RWBY hiatus underway, it seemed like the perfect time to fulfill both desires.

Before we begin though, I'd like to touch on a few things that are going to influence this project.

First, YYH is near and dear to my heart. Written by Yoshihiro Togashi in the early 1990s and later adapted for an American audience by Funimation, I had the pleasure of experiencing this story five different ways: as a serialized tale in Shonen Jump, a binge read when I had the money to buy the manga, tiny snippets of the anime on Adult Swim late at night — don't tell my parents ;) — as an after-school treat on Toonami, and then years later as a re-watch when I introduced it to a friend (who, in turn, blessed me by having us watch Fullmetal Alchemist next). I used to keep a Hiei bookmark in everything I was reading, the spirit gun made it into our witch-wolf-space adventures on the playground (middle school was wild), and there was a long period of my life where I tried very hard to teach myself to stand with my hands behind my back, precisely as Genkai does. Spoiler alert: I failed. So to say I love the series is... a little bit of an understatement. I bring this up simply as a way of demonstrating that there's more than a bit of nostalgia attached to YYH for me and that will inevitably cloud my reading of it. How can it not? So that's just something to keep in mind as I work through a series that, like any having hit its 30th birthday, has its outdated, flawed, and other questionable aspects.

Second, but very much connected to the first point, is that these are pretty casual recaps. I summarize and extrapolate, focusing primarily on plot and dialogue (but with the occasional cinematography aspect tossed in). I'm not conducting research on the cultural history here — something that will come up at least once in this episode — I'm not arguing an overarching thesis, and I've never been someone who focuses on the author/production/trivia of a series. I'm here for the story as the story is presented to the viewer. If you've read my RWBY Recaps, this will function precisely the same way, with the only difference being I'm engaging with a finished text as opposed to an ongoing one, so there’s a lot less, “Maybe ___ will happen” theorizing going on. 

Third, I obviously recommend that you watch the show yourself (you can find it on YouTube!), but you don't have to know the series to follow along. As these massive paragraphs attest, I tend to be both detailed and verbose, so we'll be covering every major plot point — and most of the smaller ones too.

Finally, I'm working from the dub. I know, I know, the horror. But it's what I grew up on and, honestly, I think it's superior to the sub. YYH's dubbing is in a class all its own and to this day there are very few shows that compare to it. Trust me, it's a good call.

That's enough of the boring chit-chat though. Let's get started!

Our very first episode "Surprised to be Dead" opens on a crowded street. We see lots of traffic, people going about their business, and a pedestrian crossing sign that, crucially, turns red. This is our normality and, like in every genre story, you need to break that normality at some point so that the protagonists can go on their fantastical/supernatural/science fiction journey. YYH eases us into things by first breaking the normality of an everyday afternoon: there's a screech of tires, quick shots of a man pushing a child out of the way of an oncoming car, and then his back is hitting the windshield. We begin this story with a horrible — but otherwise mundane — car crash.

Now, these flashes alone have a fair bit to unpack. Despite later getting a brief shot of the man's scared face right before he's hit, the moment's focus is really on the child. He's the one foregrounded in the initial, slow-mo shot. He's the one who appears in color while the man is kept in shadow. This isn't just a hit, it's a rescue. The camera is also careful to follow the soccer ball this kid was playing with (more on that later in the episode), with it flying through the air as the man is hit and bouncing to a stop in the street, acting as the dramatic finish. It's childhood! It's innocence! It's play on a sunny afternoon! And it's all gone wrong.

This moment is chaotic and even a bit confusing. Not in the sense of what's happening — that is quite obviously a guy being hit by a car — but who the victims are, how precisely this came about, or even why we're meant to care about this beyond a generic capacity to feel for other human (fictional) beings... that's all removed. And it works. As the crash takes place, the camera pans across the stunned crowd and we, the viewer, become a part of that crowd. They don't know what precisely is going on either. We're all just horrified onlookers as a sudden tragedy takes place. We're all watching the same show.

So everyone realizes this guy has been hit. People are staring in shock and someone calls for an ambulance. We see the driver fall to his knees in the street, distraught, shakily saying, "I didn't mean to..." It's a very serious and emotional scene that —

— is immediately tempered by this guy waking up, complete with a cute 'pop!' sound effect when he opens his eyes.

This is YYH's brand, this Very Serious Circumstances skillfully interwoven with casual indifference/comedy. It's admittedly far from a unique brand, but it's an excellent choice given that this is the same attitude that will drive 99% of our protagonist's interaction with the world.

Speaking of said protagonist, our guy wakes up, opens his eyes, and realizes that he's floating. There's a great, disorientating shot from his perspective where everything is upside down, causing him to nearly fall out of the air. Well would you look at that, he's as confused as we are. It's our audience surrogate!

A narrator says, "And so it all begins. This boy's name is Yusuke, he's fourteen years old, and he's supposed to be the hero of this story. But oddly enough, he's dead."

Game of Thrones might have made it popular, but YYH did it better.

(Yeah, yeah, I know one death kick-starts the journey and the other is a shocking twist. Just let me have this.)

Now, it's a weird introduction, right? At least at the end. The announcement that change has occurred, a name, an age... that all checks out. But "supposed to be the hero"? What the hell is that “supposed to” mean? Our narrator gives us the easy, surface answer: "But oddly enough, he's dead." We're capitalizing here on the audience's expectation that death ends a character's journey and though they may have been a hero previously, they can no longer be one moving forward. That function within the story has passed. So it's this intriguing question of, "What kind of hero do you have when that hero is dead from the start?" but as we'll see soon, there's an additional meaning here of, "How can Yusuke be the hero?" As this premiere sets up, Yusuke doesn't act like the hero is “supposed to” act. 

Until he saved this kid.

But right now he's just confused: "Okay, this is weird. Stupid weird."

Two EMTs arrive on the scene and are hilariously useless. You know how in any medical drama a doctor will stop CPR after a couple of seconds because obviously you're not going to spend half the episode on realism? Well, that's this only a thousand times worse. One guy just looks at the kid and announces he's fine except for some bumps and bruises. Meanwhile, the kid is sobbing.

"Well, at least one of them is," replies the other EMT, because I guess he can tell Yusuke is beyond hope without taking a pulse or anything? "I hate cleanup," he complains as they load his body onto a stretcher because that's? An empathetic response to have??

Honestly this scene is wild.

Yusuke is understandably upset that he's, you know, dead and all. He starts hounding the EMTs who, unable to hear him, just go about their business of taking the kid and his body to the hospital. "You think you can just do whatever you want because you have that stupid uniform on? You can't just write me off. Listen to me!" and Yusuke tries to punch one of the EMTs in the head, resulting in him floating right through.

What a great way to introduce your protagonist's personality. We see here that when things go wrong Yusuke's default emotion is anger and it starts creeping in even before he thinks the others are ignoring him: "Stupid weird." He has problems with authority — "You think you can just do whatever you want because you have that stupid uniform on?" — is used to others listening when he gets angry — "You can't just write me off!" — and is poised to use violence at the slightest provocation. Yusuke is a guy who, right now at least, is ready to punch first and ask questions later.

As Yusuke floats back up into the air and the ambulance drives away, he finally cools down enough to try and think his way out of this. "It's not like this is the first time you've been in a jam,” he thinks. Yusuke recalls that yeah, something was different about today...

...he actually went to school.

Catch me laughing that this idiot boy equates the weirdness of him dying with going to school. Good lord. 

Anyway, this jumpstarts our flashback. We open on a generic, anime middle school (that always feels like a high school to me) where the principal is calling for Yusuke through the loud speaker. Oooo someone’s in trouble! We follow a young girl up to the rooftop and she gets a classic hair-blowing-in-the-wind moment to  establish that she's our love interest. Meet Keiko Yukimura.

Keiko finds Yusuke hanging out and immediately starts lecturing him for trying to chew gum and refusing to wear the boys' uniform. "Oh, give me a break, Keiko. I look better in green." Note that it's here we learn her name and it's an easy, casual way to introduce it. I bring this up because Yusuke's introduction via our narrator is very much... not that. It's an on your nose statement about his name, age, and importance to the story, and if you're just starting the show in 2021, it might come across as a rather armature move. Like something out of a kid's show, perhaps. Yet here we see that this was a deliberate choice, considering that YYH is capable of introducing character information naturally when it wants to.

This moment also tells us that Yusuke cares a great deal about his image. More on that in a bit. Because Keiko isn't finished her list of grievances yet, going on to say that his attendance record has hurt their entire class, hurt her as class representative, and if he keeps going down this path he won't even graduate middle school. "Sometimes I think you don't care about anyone but yourself and then you don't even do that right!"

They're legit complaints. Too bad Yusuke is busy looking up Keiko's skirt.

Yeeeeah. Sadly, this is common for anime, particularly a 90s anime like YYH. Even presumably more progressive series like My Hero Academia feature characters like Mineta, whose entire personality is being a pervert, and the creation of abilities that "require" kids/young women to be scantily clad. See: Yaoyorozu. YYH is no different in this regard, with various forms of sexual harassment functioning as a shorthand for how much Yusuke secretly likes Keiko. "Boys will be boys," right? Obviously not. 

Like so many others series, the creators get away with it because they’re framing it as a bad thing. It's totally fine because look, Keiko slaps him! This is  teaching the viewer how wrong this behavior is. Never mind that this is clearly an established habit between them, that Yusuke laughs off Keiko's discomfort, and that the whole scene is meant to be funny for the viewer. That's the real purpose here; it’s not a PSA on harassment. 

That, and to establish the long-suffering love Keiko has for Yusuke in turn, largely stemming from a life-long friendship. "Dumb boy! He hasn't grown up a bit since he was four years old." We see that Keiko's early interactions with Yusuke have given her insight that others lack. As she heads down from the roof she runs into two girls hiding around the corner, too scared to come out lest "the great Urameshi" set his sights on them. Isn't Keiko terrified of what he might do to her? "Or worse, what others might say of it?" Like any classic high school middle school setting, one's reputation is king. Yusuke cares about how others see him — maintaining that tough boy attitude — and the girls care more about what the rest of the school might think of Keiko's interactions with him than the presumed harm Yusuke could do to her. They heard he can summon 2,000 men with just a whistle and that he "kills for fun!" But that means nothing in the face of people talking about you. Despite being one of the most popular girls in school, Keiko is the outsider here via her disinterest in what other people think.

The animation changes here, giving us a good look at how the girls picture Yusuke: tough, scowling, surrounded by shadows, and backed by an entire army.

In contrast, we've already seen what Yusuke is really like.

Keiko laughs the image off too. Yusuke is more like a "lamb" than a killer and besides, he couldn't order around two people, let alone two hundred. "He doesn't have many friends."

"That's not what I heard," says one of the girls. 

"Yeah," goes the other. "I think we would know." 

Again, rumors rule here, with whispers in the hall considered more reliable than someone who interacts with Yusuke on a daily basis. Keiko doesn’t have a hope of changing their minds. 

Oh, as a side note, I love that they gave Keiko Miyazaki-esque hair. It's very emotive.

Yusuke escapes outside where the principal is still calling for him to report to his office. He overhears a conversation around the corner and we cut to two boys, one of which is showing a wallet off to the other. He explains that some bully tried to rough him up, but he said he was Urameshi's cousin and the bully took off, dropping his wallet in the process. The guy's friend is impressed, but what is he going to do if Yusuke ever finds out he lied? Not to worry, he says, that "blockhead" would probably think it's true even if he did somehow hear.

Yusuke, obviously, does hear about this and he, also obviously, does not believe this guy is his cousin. He looms ominously and they scurry up against a wall, terrified and offering him the wallet as an apology.

"You think I want your money?" Yusuke yells.

YYH is, in many respects, a rather simple story, but I appreciate the hints of complexity in these otherwise straightforward interactions. It's not that this guy used Yusuke's name to steal a wallet, he used it as a form of protection against another bully — a far more sympathetic motivation. It's not that Yusuke's fearsome reputation has resulted in any genuine respect because once people think they're safe they reveal how little they think of his intelligence — he's a "blockhead." And Yusuke, though intimidating and violent, is not your average, schoolyard bully. He doesn't care about money, only the insult and the damage this guy using his name might have done to his reputation. There's a little more nuance here than you might otherwise expect.

Also, note how dark the boys' standard uniforms are and how much they blend into the rest of the world. Yusuke, as our protagonist, stands out in his bright clothing. He was right, he does look better in green!

So he's ready to clobber this kid when one of the teachers arrive: Mr. Iwamoto.

Iwamoto demands to know what's going on, but the boys are too terrified to rat Yusuke out. Noticing the wallet on the ground, he assumes that Yusuke was after their money, something that greatly offends him: "Whatever!" Iwamoto goes on to say that, "No good weeds like you should have been plucked a long time ago," making it clear that he considers Yusuke a hopeless case. The positive aspects that Keiko sees, as well as the complexity the viewer sees — to say nothing of his introduction of saving a kid — aren’t considered here.

Notably, Iwamoto exists in part to show us what Yusuke could become. Not a teacher (he's obviously not attending school enough for that!), but a cynical man who is cruel for cruelty's sake. Yusuke is already barreling down that path, ignoring Keiko's advice, terrorizing other students, trying to punch EMTs, etc. If his life (or afterlife...) hadn't changed through that accident, this is the kind of person Yusuke might have grown up to be, and we can see that clearly in the visual parallels between them. Dark haired men dressed in green who scowl with ease and toss out cutting insults. Yusuke is staring his future in the face.

For now he walks off with a final shot, "You shouldn't talk. It makes you sound stupid." This time Yusuke makes it to the school's entrance and tries to enjoy his second attempt at chewing gum, but someone hits him in the back of the head.

"Okay, somebody's DEAD — ah. Sorry, old man."

"That's Mr. Takenaka to you."

Our principal has finally left the office and hunted down Yusuke for himself! Putting this interaction immediately after the one with Iwamoto allows the viewer to compare them. Yusuke might be irreverent towards his principal, but it's clear there's still some kind of respect between them. Yusuke only starts threatening because he doesn’t realize who hit him and once he does realize it's Takenaka, he immediately apologizes. That "old man" comes across as a teasing insult and Yusuke allows himself to be briefly dragged back towards school, rather than throwing a now classic punch. In turn, Takenaka cares enough about Yusuke to try and keep him on the straight and narrow. He utilizes Yusuke's preferred language — violence — but in a casual way, nonthreatening way: slight hit to the back of his head, noogie, pulling him along by the ear. 

It's the sort of physicality we're used to seeing in media between a parent and child who are outwardly antagonistic, but actually share a deep bond. Takenaka is also careful to frame their return to his office as a "discussion," not a punishment, and offers Yusuke tea along with the conversation. Whereas Iwamoto considers Yusuke to be a "weed" that should have been plucked from their school long ago, Takenaka is determined to help Yusuke bloom.

If we're continuing the flower metaphor :D

Yusuke isn't in the mood to play along though. He gets away by using a fake ear, startling Takenaka when it unexpectedly pulls free. Yusuke escapes the school grounds and Takenaka, suffering a back twinge from his fall, can't chase after him. Poor guy. I understand that pain lol.

Yusuke heads home where we're introduced to his mother, Atsuko. Most notable in her first shot is the soft lighting that highlights her looks. We're not told how old she is here, but I believe she's around 28 — and she looks it, if not younger. Given that Yusuke is 14, that means Atsuko was a mom at his age. This is a quick and subtle way to tell us about Yusuke's home life. There are more overt details in this scene — it's at least lunchtime and Atsuko hasn't left her bed yet, she demands that Yusuke make her coffee instead of greeting him, it's all meant to imply (before we actually see) that she's an alcoholic — but her age is another way to highlight the broken household here. There's no partner in sight and she clearly had Yusuke as a teenager. He hasn't had a strong parental figure to take care of him. If anything, Yusuke is taking care of Atsuko here.

"Oh great, mother of the year!" basically sums things up.

Atsuko wants to know why Yusuke isn't in school and he says that everyone is pissing him off today, particularly with their preaching. "Dear, if you hate preaching so much you should live on your own... but you can't do that, can you?" Alongside a rough upbringing, Yusuke is suffering from the common problem of being trapped in a dead-end life. He hates his school, his town, and coming home to find his mom hungover. Yusuke has no prospects and, outside of one principal, no one who is actively working to help him find some. Even the little things he hates, like being preached to, are unavoidable because if you want to live on your own, that requires money. Good luck pulling that off as a middle schooler whose only skill is street fighting!

Yusuke walks off in a huff, literally shouting in a street about what a bad day he's having (and hilariously scaring off pedestrians in the process). His shout brings trouble though. A couple guys appear to ambush him, their boss close behind. The music increases the tension, Yusuke's expression is serious, and we even get a Dutch angle thrown into the mix. 

For any who don't know, the Dutch angle is a popular film technique to establish that something is wrong. There's tension in the scene, something uneasy is at play, and the world is now literally off center. It's perhaps most famously used in Do The Right Thing to establish the friction between an Italian-American pizzeria and the predominantly African American neighborhood it's based in.

But it's also used a great deal in horror as a way to say: yup, shit just got real. Scary real.

This Dutch angle introduces a character you may not appreciate at first, but absolutely should: Kazuma Kuwabara.

He's initially the comic relief and that's clear in his introduction. Within seconds we move from that intimidating arrival to, well, seeing him. To be clear, I've got nothing against redheads with big chins, but compared to Yusuke's design, Kuwabara is meant to be the funny looking one. His threat level plummets the moment we get a look at his face, especially in a series that will occasionally use looks as a (supposed) measure of intelligence. 

Also, Kuwabara is dressed in light blue so, like Yusuke, we know he's important!

Any assumptions that his appearance isn’t meant to imply a goofy, embarrassing personality are put to rest when Kuwabara starts rambling about how they last time they fought Yusuke just got a cheap shot in and he'll definitely win this time. Yeah, he won't. Yusuke is thrilled by this diversion though and we get a shot of him looking almost as creepy as Keiko's friends think he is. Whatever else might be said about Yusuke, he is absolutely a monster in a fight.

Which we see here. If anyone picked up the series without knowing this was a fighting anime, they'll realize it now. Yusuke's choreography is stylized to show off his skill: he disappears with a 'whoosh' and dark lines to suggest inhuman speed,

attacking Kuwabara with a knee to the face, utilizes flying kicks, lands perfect, precision punches, and ends it all with the toe-tip landing we've come to expect of all powerful fighters. Kuwabara never even got a hit in. 

Happy as a clam now, Yusuke wanders off whistling and Kuwabara's friends are left to pick up the pieces. AKA, his likely broken bones. I love that they're legit friends though and not just nameless goons for the sake of giving Kuwabara a small gang (though their names won't come up until later). "That makes 0 wins an 156 loses!" one of them cries, trying to get Kuwabara to stop ending up in the hospital, probably. We establish that Kuwabara is The Most Dramatic Ever when he pulls his broken body into a seated position, shouting, "No! I almost had him that time!"

Then he passes out.

Kuwabara, honey, you obviously did not almost have him, but god bless you for the outlook. The most optimistic thing on this Earth is a well-loved Golden Retriever, but Kuwabara comes in at a very close second.

With his dream to one day beat Yusuke in combat established, we cut to Yusuke wandering the street where the episode opened. "Okay, I'm remembering" he says in a voiceover. "After that I met the kid."

The soccer ball reappears as it rolls to a stop at Yusuke's feet. He grabs it and immediately starts yelling at the kid. Horrible protagonist, right? Well, Yusuke is trying to instill in him the danger of using this street as a playground, a worry the viewer already knows is 100% justified. “Listen, kid, that’s dangerous! There are cars going by that will splatter you into the pavement!” It's one of those quick moments where we get to enjoy Yusuke's duality: he's someone who is nearly making a toddler cry, but for rather understandable reasons. He's got the right idea, but needs to go about it in a more mature manner.

Which is precisely what he attempts to do. Sort of. Yusuke changes gears, though whether it's a more "mature" route is certainly up for debate lol. He tries entertaining the kid instead, raising and lowering the soccer ball to reveal goofy faces.

When these fail to impress, Yusuke goes full out by stuffing the ball into his pants, pushing his nose up with a pair of chopsticks he got from god knows where, and generally just putting on a display.

So Yusuke cares very deeply about his reputation... but only when it comes to those who are an established part of his life. Keiko, Mr. Takenaka, and the other kids at school all need to maintain a particular image of Yusuke, one that he's carefully cultivated. But random pedestrians on the street? Who cares about them? Let them talk.

This shows us that Yusuke does indeed have priorities over his own, selfish goals. Namely, the happiness of some kid is more important to him than looking "cool" for a bunch of strangers. Lots of characters with Yusuke's surface attitude would sneer at the idea of degrading themselves for — their words — some brat. But Yusuke, as we constantly see, actually does have that heart of gold. “Well, if all else fails I can still make kids happy.”

Although... I'm not sure what to make of his display itself. I have the distinct sense that there's something prejudiced here that I'm not able to fully articulate, what with the chopsticks, slanted eyes, bald head, and the like, though to be entirely frank I don't have enough knowledge of Japan's history to say precisely what it might be. Or, really, whether it exists at all. Just something to chew on.

What I am sure about though is the importance of having the child label Yusuke as monster — "Yeah, monster! — but in a delighted manner. Yusuke is indeed some kind a monster, someone who disappoints adults and terrifies his classmates, a demon fighter on the streets too, but here that identity is reworked into something positive.

Having successful secured a laugh, Yusuke tells the kid — calmly this time — to go play elsewhere. The toddler stares up at him with the blank expression only kids can manage.

Well, kids and whatever headspace I'm in after writing these metas.

To absolutely no one's surprise except Yusuke's, the kid does not go elsewhere. Instead, he continues kicking the ball down the street, causing Yusuke to exclaim, “Dammit, what’s the use? The kid can get smashed by a car for all I care!” Liar, liar. 

The picture becomes desaturated as the kid kicks the ball and it flies into the street, time slowing down to show it landing precisely in the middle of the road. Yusuke again yells for him to stay put, but when has a toddler ever listened? He begins to walk into the road as our driver arrives, speeding, swerving, and paying more attention to the girl at his side than what's in front of him.

This time, we see the accident from the front with both Yusuke and the kid presented equally.

There's a cut to black and when we return we're in the present, Yusuke floating above the policemen now investigating the scene. “So that’s it? I’m roadkill?” As Yusuke realizes he's dead, specifically that he's a ghost, a voice goes,

"Bingo! Bingo! You win the prize!"

A woman has appeared who is quite obviously othered by the standards of the episode so far. Unlike the greens, blues, and browns of the series' modern clothes, she's dressed in hot pink kimono with blue hair to match. She's also, you know, floating on an oar.

“I didn’t expect you to figure it out so quickly," she says, referring to Yusuke's revelation that he's dead. Apparently, those who meet unexpected and/or violent ends tend to take some time coming to terms with their demise. It's a nice acknowledgment of Yusuke's intelligence in an interaction that's otherwise... not great for his self-esteem.

Meaning, this woman is about to drag him lol.

She introduces herself as Botan, pilot of the River Styx and guider of souls to the afterlife. You might also know her as the Grim Reaper.

(Hey, RWBY fans: I originally wrote that as Grimm Reaper 🤦‍♀️)

It's an claim Yusuke takes issue with because 1. Botan is too pretty to be the Grim Reaper and 2. If she was really some god of death she'd be taking this much more seriously, not laughing and saying, "Bingo!" For the audience this does two things. First, it acknowledges our own expectations and validates them. Yusuke's world isn't so far removed from our own that he takes Botan's looks and personality at face value, he also expected a skeleton with a scythe. So don't worry, all the weird stuff in this series is weird to our protagonist too. They'll be explanations. Or, even if there’s not, you’re not wrong for being surprised. 

Second, it sets up the very common theme in YYH of undermining those common assumptions again and again and again. We've already seen it with Yusuke, wherein characters who look and act a certain way are, supposedly, destined to be that person and nothing more. Yusuke is meant to be just a "weed," a dumb, violent, angry loser who goes nowhere in life... but we already know he's more than that. Botan is supposed to be scary and serious, but she says nah, I want to be cute and bubbly instead. No character in YYH embodies who they're "supposed" to be when you look past those surface characterizations. They play the part of archetypes — and do keep certain parts of their expected personalities — but they're also far more well-rounded than that. Which yeah, is something most people expect from any story nowadays, but YYH is particularly adept at making you think you're watching Simple Show A only to turn around and surprise you with More Complex Show B.

It's great, trust me.

So Yusuke is pissed that Botan isn't adhering to those expectations, in the same way that he works hard to validate others expectations of him. He doesn't know how to deal with someone challenging his world view yet. Rather than angering Botan though, she just nods and says that this response makes sense for him. “Rather than being scared, or surprised, you yell a lot and tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about." Taking out a notebook, she quickly summarizes everything we learned in the flashback — minus Yusuke's complexities: he's fourteen, in middle school, is ill-tempered, violent, hates authority, and is a horrible student.

Typically, Yusuke responds by getting angry and trying to snatch the booklet out of her hands, only for Botan to pull it out of his reach, laughing. The tables have turned! Rather than being surrounded by people who cower at Yusuke's imposed authority, he now finds himself faced with someone who laughs at his transparent attempts to take control of the situation.

Calming down, Yusuke wants to know if the kid he saved is really alright and Botan offers to let him see for himself. That offer produces Yusuke's first, genuine smile.

They fly to the hospital where a doctor is in the process of giving the kid a clean bill of health, his mother crying with relief. 

That's enough for Yusuke. “Alright, Botan, I’ve got no regrets, so you can take me to hell or wherever it is I’m going.”

That tells you all you need to know about Yusuke's self-worth, despite his bad boy attitude. His life is a dead-end as far as he can see and most of those around him haven't done anything to dissuade him of that idea. He says he doesn't care if the kid lives or dies, but then instinctively saves him. Post his death, Yusuke doesn't have anything he considers a regret, or anything he'd like to do before he leaves, like saying goodbye to a loved one. Oh, he's also pretty sure he's going to hell and has resigned himself to that without a fight.

Uplifting!

Botan just laughs though, saying that she's actually here to offer Yusuke an "ordeal" that could bring him back to life. See, he wasn't supposed to die today — let alone die saving a kid — and frankly they don't know what to do with him. It's another neat summary of what we've already learned: Yusuke is a far more complicated case than the afterlife assumed and now, when push comes to shove, deciding whether he belongs in heaven or hell is... muddled.

There's a fantastic story there about the problems with an afterlife that reduces a person's entire life to a few surface characteristics recorded in a book, refusing to acknowledge the context of their situation, or their capacity for change. “Run someone with your credentials a thousand times and they never would have saved a kid like that." Except, of course, Yusuke did save him, so those "credentials" are suspect, to say the least. However, YYH is not a story that explores these issues. Instead, I recommend you watch this!

Rather than being upset at the afterlife's low opinion of him (because let's be real, Yusuke shares it), he latches onto a little detail Botan let slip. If he wasn't supposed to die today... then was the kid?

Mmm... no. Actually, without the chaos of Yusuke jumping into the road, the driver would have swerved at the last second and the kid would have not only lived, but actually come out with one less scrape.

So Yusuke is obviously upset by this news! I would be too!! Holy shit, hang onto the "it's the thought that counts" message with everything you've got.

Also, don't think too much about the fact that the afterlife apparently knows exactly what will happen to people, down to how many cuts they accumulate in an accident. Also, don't think too much about where the afterlife foreseeing the crash begins and the unexpectedness of Yusuke interfering ends. That way lies madness. This will never come up again, so just let it go.

Sorry, 2013 me hijacked the post for a second.

As said, Yusuke is understandably upset by this revelation and as he fumes I'm reminded that this series likes to pull some amazing expressions.

Botan reiterates that it's all fine because Yusuke can come back to life. Weren't you listening? He should feel honored, in fact, considering that an offer like this only arrives every 100 years or so. Well, that explains why all of humanity isn't grappling with people coming back to life on the daily. One person every generation isn't going to cause much of a stir.

However, instead of jumping at the chance Yusuke announces that Botan is just like the teachers at school: she doesn't know what she's talking about. “You said yourself my life was kind of pathetic, right?” he says, going on to explain that everyone will be happier now that he's dead. His school won't have to deal with his behavior, Keiko won't have to nag him, and his mom will be able to party whenever she wants. It's a win-win for everyone involved. 

Hmm, this feels familiar. 

Don't worry, Yusuke doesn't need to experience a whole alternate reality to get the message.

“I’m sorry you feel that way at such an early age," Botan says and she is sorry, because despite her teasing nature that's a legitimately horrifying thing to believe. Yusuke won't budge though and after a little back-and-forth Botan leaves, telling Yusuke he should think it over while visiting his wake. She'll come back once he decides what to do.

“Do you have worms in your ears, lady? I did decide!” but Botan is long gone.

We cut to that night where Yusuke has indeed decided to attend his own wake. Maybe because of Botan's advice, maybe because he's just morbidly curious. We’re not given insight into the decision. 

Atsuko is a mess, to put it mildly, not dressed for the occasion and sitting slumped against the way, staring vacantly as the guests offer their condolences. Yusuke is surprised by the fact that his entire class is here, but quickly writes them off when he sees two of the boys laughing. I'm on the fence about this detail, which I'll unpack in just a second.

First though, Yusuke sees Keiko exiting the house, inconsolable in her grief. She collapses on the ground with her two friends trying to offer comfort, despite the fact that they had nothing good to say about Yusuke himself. Good on them.

Before he can think too long on this though, Yusuke is distracted by Kuwabara's arrival. Unlike Keiko's crying, he expresses his grief through yelling. Specifically, yelling at Yusuke. For dying. For daring to "run away." His own friends are physically holding him back as he charges into the wake, screaming, “Who am I gonna fight now, huh? Who am I gonna fight?" It's not really about the fighting, of course. At least, not the fighting alone. "You’re supposed to be here for me," Kuwabara finishes, the punch he's thrown at Yusuke's photo going limp and catching his first tear.

You know, for all the  goofy expressions, this show really is gorgeous. Just wait until we get to the fight animations.

Kuwabara's reaction is why I hesitate to write off the classmates like Yusuke has. Granted, we have no reason to believe that they care for him as Kuwabara does — they're nameless background characters defined only by their terror of "the great Urameshi" — but it's still a split second taken out of context. We don't know what they were laughing at, or if laughing is a part of their grief. God knows I personally laugh at the most inappropriate moments. If you tell me someone has just died there is a very good chance I will laugh awkwardly as I try to process that. It’s just a reflex. All of which I bring up not because these side characters are important, but because Yusuke's perception of his own worth is. The point of each of these moments is to show that those around him have always cared for him, even if Yusuke didn't notice. It's nice to think that extends to his classmates too. The variety likewise exists to show us how people grieve differently, with Kuwabara's friends not understanding that this is how he's working through the trauma: “This place is for mourning!” He is mourning, even if his way of mourning isn't as socially acceptable as Keiko's. So if screaming and throwing punches is valid, crying is valid, staring stoically in a drunk stupor is valid... why not laughter too?

Not likely, perhaps, but possible.

As an additional possibility to chew on, watching this premier again, it struck me how more emotional Kuwabara's scene is compared to Keiko's. Don't get me wrong, crying and calling Yusuke’s name gets the point across, but it's two seconds of generic grief compared to a much longer scene rife with intensity. When Kuwabara arrives the music swells and everyone is forced to pay attention to him. His grief is loud, violent, and given symbolism with his fist and the photo. There's more effort put into his reaction, frankly, so it wouldn't surprise me if fans started shipping them after this. That grief combined with an "enemies to lovers" possibility is a pretty potent mix. To be clear, Yusuke/Keiko is the (oh so obvious) canonical endgame and in the fandom Yusuke/Kuwabara can't compare to another slash ship that will turn up later, but this is a good example of how writers can craft some Very Gay Scenes without realizing it. When you have the girl crying prettily for a second and the guy absolutely losing his mind over Yusuke's death, questioning his purpose now, his support network, and then collapsing in grief... don't be surprised if your audience goes, "Oh hey, maybe they'd be a good couple instead."

But I digress.

The only people who are unquestioningly happy about Yusuke's passing are Mr. Iwamoto and his co-conspirator, Mr. Akashi. You know Akashi is another bad guy because he has bucked teeth and "ugliness" is an easy way to code for evilness. YYH is not immune to those mistakes :/

These two are really something else though, standing in the middle of a wake and claiming it's “too bad that car wasn’t big enough for them too," referring to Kuwabara and his friends. Wow! What stellar members of the academic community. Iwamoto goes on to say that Yusuke dying at least accomplished something good. Not, mind you, saving the life of a child, but rather looking good for their school's reputation. Akashi agrees, but says it's likely Yusuke only accidentally saved him while trying to steal the kid's lunch money. Remember, that accusation of theft is the one thing Yusuke has said outright that he does not do.

He's pissed listening to all this — wouldn't you be? — but knows by now he can't do anything about it. In another fantastic shot, Yusuke hovers his hand over Iwamoto's shoulder, desperate to grab him, when Takenaka's arrives there instead.

“What do you suppose is more disgraceful? That boy showing his misery, or your insensitive and idiotic words!”

HELL YEAH. You tell 'em, Mr. Takenaka.

Yusuke gets his third shock of the night at this passionate defense. Takenaka leaves the teachers to go pay his respects, but admits to Yusuke's picture that he just can't speak well of him. He was surprised to hear that Yusuke gave up his life for another and it's a fact that he acted selfishly. Though he doesn't say it in as many words, Takenaka explains that he's not grieving because Yusuke was a good person, but because it's so clear to him that he might have been. “Why didn’t you stay? You could have made something great out of yourself.”

Normally, "Why didn't you stay?" is just something for the living to grapple with, as the dead obviously don't have any say in what happens to them. But Yusuke does. It's here that the lighting grows soft again and Yusuke considers Takenaka's words. Keiko and Kuwabara grieve for who he was, but Takenaka grieves for who Yusuke could have been — someone that might still exist if Yusuke decides to undergo this ordeal.

Atsuko adds fuel to the emotional fire, breaking down and hiding her face in her knees.

Finally, the kid Yusuke saved arrives with his mother. Because yes, Yusuke saved him in every way that matters, considering no one else knows — or will know — that he'd have lived anyway. I like that the show doesn't allow that knowledge to undermine the emotion of their arrival, or what Yusuke’s act meant to them. 

The mom tells her son to pay his respects and the kid thanks Yusuke for saving him, and for "making faces." He clearly doesn't get what's going on here. This is confirmed as the two leave and he asks his mom if he can play with Yusuke again tomorrow. “I know some people sounded angry at him, but he’s really nice!" 

They're probably just crying because they want to play with him too, he thinks, which just makes his mom join in. Everyone is crying in this club tonight.

Those words are the cincher for Yusuke and with a brief montage of all the grief he's witnessed, he makes his decision.

We cut to later that night where Yusuke floats above the city, admiring the moon. Botan reappears and he asks, “Have you ever not known about something that seemed obvious to everyone else?” Yes, everyone has experienced that at one point or another. She asks if he's made his decision and Yusuke agrees to try and come back to life.

Emotional revelations out of the way, we're allowed another tone shift as Botan yells with joy, speeding off and causing Yusuke to grab hold of the end of her oar, lest he be left behind. Cranky as always, he demands to know where they're going. "To the spirit world, of course!" They're off to see someone who can explain the ordeal and give Yusuke the tool needed to complete it. Just hang on and enjoy the ride.

Thus ends our very first episode! Ah, the nostalgia. This is part one of a four arc series, with the anime cutting out a lot of the filler stories found at the start of the manga — a smart decision, I think. They primarily do the work of teaching Yusuke what he learned at the wake, so if you can accomplish that as quickly as the adaptation did, all the better. Especially since Yusuke needs to grow a great deal beyond the basic understanding that people might, sort of care for him, and that work will occur primarily through a job he's going to take on. The series isn't really about his death and it's not about an attempt to come back either — it's about what happens once you get that second chance. So this is the setup, but it's important setup all the same.

No need to skip ahead though. I've blathered enough for one recap. I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you when the writing gods next bless me with energy! 💜

[clouditae]

Let’s Escape Reality

Jungkook x reader | pg15 | oneshot | barista au | christmas party | fluff | angst | mentions of death

Word: 5.6k

Christmas has become a holiday you never look forward to. Divorced parents, multiple parties to attend, but he’s always there to remind you that it never hurts to be a kid again

[Tuesday, December 24th, 10:15pm] Mom: Hey sweetie! Can’t wait to see you tomorrow morning! Your father always wakes up closer to the afternoon so he can wait while we have you all to ourselves! 

[Tuesday, December 24th, 11:48pm] Dad: Hi baby, hope you had a great time with us today and we can’t wait to see you tomorrow whenever your mother let’s you go!

It’s currently five in the morning, your eyes barely open and thoughts not wanting to deal with your parents right now. It’s always the same with those two; one parent complains about the other. “Your mother is always so naggy” or “Your father never listens”. Always putting you in the middle whenever you talk to them or whenever you’re with them. They need someone to listen to them as they bash the other, and that happens to be you or your siblings. The daughter they created. All you want is for this day to end already, and it just started.

Forget the Christmas morning and lunch with your parents, forget wrapping the gifts you got for your family, friends and the person you picked to be secret Santa for. Forget the Christmas party you have later on today. Screw all of it. 

Rather than going to see the other messages you got from your siblings, you open a different message.

[5:26am] Kook: Gooood morning beautiful! Can’t wait to see you at the party tonight <3

You can’t help but smile, feeling more calm than you did going to bed last night. You take in a deep breath, finally getting out of bed to take a shower and begin your morning on Christmas day. Plugging your phone into its charger on the nightstand next to your bed, you head into your bathroom where you start your shower. You take off your clothes, bringing your hand under the running water to feel the temperature. When it’s to your liking, you step in, letting the warm water run down your body. Thoughts run through your head as you close your eyes, taking in deep breaths to not have a breakdown. 

Ever since your parents divorced, life has been difficult. It’s been four years since their divorce, but it always feels like yesterday when they announced it… separately. It was hard on not only your parents, but you and your siblings as well. Whose party do you go to? What is supposed to be happening New Years? Birthdays? Simple lunches that your parents fought over because one somehow figured out the other made plans with you. You felt like a toy they were fighting over; never considering how you’re feeling or how your brother and sister are feeling. 

You suppress the urge to cry as you quickly take your shower. Once finished, you get out and put on pajama pants and a shirt, putting your hair up in a towel to dry before making your way towards your room to begin wrapping presents. You begin with the long distance lamp you got for you and your best friend. She always seemed upset at the thought of moving to New York for work and leaving everyone here, so you got her that best friend touch lamp that changes colors for both lamps when you touch it. 

”She’ll cry when she gets it,” Jungkook told you last year when you almost bought it but didn’t. Your best friend was supposed to move to New York last year, but things happened and she did not leave. 

“I don’t think she’ll cry,” you tell him, staring at the picture of the lamp on your phone. 

“How much do you want to bet?” he challenges.

You chuckle at the memory. Guess you’ll see if today you lost that bet. You write your friend's name on the present, placing it to the side before moving to your mom's present. You begin to wrap the gift, thoughts going back to Jungkook. You wonder what he’d say when you’re at the store staring at an alarm clock you were considering getting for your mom at first. He’d probably lecture you. You think further back to when you first met Jungkook three years ago.

You sigh, entering the café with your friends. How much longer are they going to argue about team Clarissa or team Dante? In the end they’re both going to cry over the season finale. 

“I’m telling you, Mina, Sophie is totally going to end up with Dante! He’s sweet and only wants to make them happy!” your friend Rory argues, walking up to the long line. 

Mina only laughs challengingly, “Yeah right. Clarissa is the one for them. She’s been there since the beginning and she confessed her feelings for Sophie compared to Dante who acted cold and was a dick to her!” 

“That’s because he has trouble letting himself feel something for someone again! It’s your typical troubled bad boy!” Rory protests, shaking his head before crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Will you two keep it down? You need to remember we’re in public and no one wants to hear you gushing over two fictional characters,” Ben sighs, rubbing his temples. He’s clearly done hearing this conversation just as much as you are. They’ve been arguing since all of you got into the car to get coffee. 

Mina sighs, “Fine. We’ll stop for now, but the second we get into that car, you’re gonna regret ever being on Dante’s team.” She pokes at Rory’s chest. 

“You’re on,” he replies in a quieter tone, taking a step forward as the next customer goes up to the cashier and places their order. “Changing the subject,” Rory begins, now looking at Ben, “I know you’re a coffee fanatic, but why bust a mission so far out of our way to get coffee when there are a million stores closer?”

Ben smiles, eyes lighting up in realization. “Remember how I’ve been telling you for weeks that I want you guys to meet my friend Jungkook?”

“Yeah, but you never bring him anywhere when we actually get together. I still think you’re making him up,” Mina theorizes, looking up to meet Ben’s eyes. 

“Ha-ha,” he mocks. “But no, Jungkook is real and he works here. I thought that the best way to meet a busy kid is to find them at work. Plus he makes a pretty damn good cappuccino.” Ben shrugs, gesturing with his head for the three of you to move forward. 

“Does he work eight jobs or something?” you can’t help but ask. Ben has been talking about you three meeting this Jungkook non stop for almost two months, but never once has Ben actually brought him over. Ben’s excuse as to why Jungkook has never been brought over is because Jungkook is busy. 

“No. He has six older brothers, so he’s always with them. They help him with everything he could need, and how to be a better barista is one of them.” Ben can only shake his head as he chuckles.

“Damn. Their parents got busy,” Rory whistles. 

“They’re not blood related; they just grew up together.” 

“Next in line,” a voice calls. You look to the front of the line, realizing that you’re next. The four of you quickly walk up to the woman behind the counter. She smiles her customer service smile and asks, “What can I get you today?” You all give your orders to the brunette behind the counter, Rory and Mina buying the most expensive drink they can get. She repeats the order back. “Is that correct?” she asks, earning a nod from Ben who is paying. “Okay. Your order should be ready soon!” 

You follow the group to the side closer to the pick-up counter where Ben’s name will be called. “So where is your best friend?” Mina asks, eyes scanning the staff behind the counter. 

Ben looks behind the counter where Mina’s gaze remains. “Hmm. He’s probably in the back or on break,” he answers, turning back to look at her. “He’s real.” 

Rory and Mina can only chuckle at the determination Ben is giving. “Okay, okay.” 

“So are we going to start doing secret Santa? I’m telling you, it’s a great idea,” you voice, pushing your idea on the crew once again. 

You’ve been dedicated to having secret Santa since last Christmas. It’s something you have always wanted to do, but didn’t have enough friends to do it with. Even now you don’t have enough friends to do it without it being easy as to who was picked by which person, but if you find enough people willing, it’ll be a great idea to try out. When they say nothing you add, “C’mon! You can even invite your friends to join and hang out with us at the party.” 

“Five people is still not enough, Y/N,” Ben says, shaking his head while giving you a sympathetic look. 

You groan, “That’s why you invite some of your friends over so that we can all get to know one another and then ask who wants to join the present exchange.” You then cross your arms over your chest. “You guys always say you want to do something with friends only, and here I am presenting to you with a pretty good idea.” 

They stand in silence, looking lost in their thoughts at your words. Finally, Ben is the first to sigh and say, “Fine. I’ll ask him and find some other friends.” He points to you. “But you’re planning the party for all of us to meet and the party for the secret Santa.” 

It’s Mina’s turn to exhale. “I’ll ask around.” 

You turn to Rory who only nods. Breaking out into a huge smile, you say in a singsong tone, “I’ll have everything ready. I promise.” 

“Order for Ben,” a disembodied voice calls. 

You all turn to the pick-up counter to see four cups in a drink carrier. Following Ben, you watch him drag the carrier closer to him. You don’t see him look up and smile as he says, “Hey.” You tear your eyes away from the cups where yours lay in wait for you to devour and look up to see Ben’s attention on the person behind the counter. He turns to the three of you. “Guys, this is Jungkook. Jungkook this is Rory, Mina and Y/N.” 

Jungkook is for sure real, but he doesn’t even look real. He’s tall, almost as tall as Ben, but not quite there. His cherry red hair is brought back into a bun, some of it draping around his sculpted jawline. His round, coffee brown eyes glances at your friends before landing on you, a smile gracing his lips. “Hello,” he says in a silvery, husky tone. 

You feel how Mina sounds when she replies, small and taut. Ben is friends with this God like figure? It’s not that Ben isn’t good looking—it's more that you’d have to be either very beautiful or funny as hell to be friends with someone like Jungkook. You’re putting him on a pedestal when his personality could be horrible.  

“So, my friends—mainly this one,” he begins, nudging your arm with his shoulder, “wants to do a secret Santa and since we need more people, Y/N is going to throw a party beforehand so we can all get to know each other. You interested?”

Jungkook can only smile for a moment, expression clearly taken aback from the sudden invitation to a party where he’ll only know one person. He looks to you, his smile a bit more genuine and answers, “I don’t mind going. Just tell me when.”

You smile at the memory as you turn off the ignition to your car and get out. You stand in front of your mom’s house, letting out a small sigh before opening the trunk and pulling out the presents you got for your mom and one for your siblings. You stack the presents on top of one another, realizing that you’ll have to make trips. However, to your luck and the sense of a sibling in trouble, your brother appears beside you. 

“Well if it isn’t my favorite sister,” he says, giving you a side hug before grabbing the stacked presents from you. 

You chuckle, “If Cal heard you say that, she’d throw a fit.” Grabbing the other gifts and items you bought, you close the trunk and follow him up to your mom’s two story house. You make your way up the walkway towards the decorated front door. Your mom goes above and beyond when it comes to decorations. The outdoor has lights lining the roof, two inflatable snowmen were on the snow-covered lawn, and as you get closer to the steel entry door, it’s decorated with a garland running along the window and door; a wreath hanging above the entrance. 

The door flings open to reveal your mom. She smiles widely at you, crows feet forming at the eyes. “Hi, honey,” she says in her nasal voice, opening her arms out for you to walk in to. You smile, juggling the items in your arms as you wrap them around her waist, hugging her tightly. “It’s good to see you.” 

“Hi, Mom.” You release her, but she doesn’t seem ready to let go of you just yet. It’s understandable since the last time you saw her was around a month ago, but your arms are getting tired from holding all the heavy objects. “Okay—Mom, my arms hurt.” 

She chuckles, removing herself and her grip around you. “Sorry.” She grabs the items from your left hand. “Why don’t we put these under the tree and have breakfast?”

You follow her out of the entryway and into the living room where the Christmas tree stands. It stands in the far left corner between the stand and the couch. It’s tall and decorative with old ornaments you made when you were a kid. The television is playing a Christmas movie you forgot the name to. It’s old, but the scenes play in your mind like a record. Your sister sits on the couch facing across the television. She looks up to you as you follow your mom across the room and place the presents under the tree. 

“Well if it isn’t my favorite sister,” she calls, getting up from the couch, making her way around the coffee table in the middle of the room and wraps you in a just as tight hug as your mother’s. 

“I’m your only sister,” you explain, patting her back before she let’s go. 

“But that’s what Nathan said right?” she inquiries, laughing when you don’t deny fast enough. “That’s what he told me when I came.” 

“You’re both my favorite sister,” he defends, shrugging his shoulders as he walks to the island that somewhat separates the kitchen and living room. He grabs a piece of bacon from the plate placed in what looks like a field of plates. 

“We’re your only sisters and can you not eat until we’re all at the table,” Cal groans, shaking her head as she goes to the island to grab the plates and place them at the table in the dining room to the left of the kitchen. 

Nathan says something you can't understand due to his chewing, but he nevertheless grabs the plates and follows Cal’s lead. You do the same, grabbing a plate full of pancakes and another plate full of eggs, placing them at the center of the table. Once everything is set, you take a seat next to Cal, your mom and Nathan sitting across from you. You chat with one another as you fill your plates with a little bit of everything. You listen to their stories as coffee, milk and orange juice is poured into cups. 

Your mom took advantage of the three of you being in the same room as her as she tells you about that one day at work where one of her students laughed so hard at their own prank that they farted and that resulted in urinating themselves a bit. “I don’t understand why I chose to be a teacher, but here we are,” she sighs, taking a sip of her coffee. 

“You should have been a nurse,” Cal chimes, shoving a piece of toast in her mouth. You glance between your mom and Cal, waiting for the tension to rise. With Cal being exactly like your mom; hard headed and with the same attitude, they always butt heads and sometimes ruin whatever get together you have. 

“Elena is pregnant,” Nathan suddenly blurts. You stare at him wide eyed. Usually when your mom and Cal get into arguments, Nathan will come up with some stupid comment to ease the tension, but this one was a lot bigger than his usual lies. 

“What?” you mom whispers.

“Yeah, Nathan. At least come up with a believable lie,” Cal chuckles. 

“Uh,” he begins, adjusting himself in his seat, “today’s not a lie. Elena is pregnant—the doctor told us a few days ago.” He brings his hands up and shakes them lightly, somewhat looking like he’s doing jazz hands. “It’s a Christmas miracle. Merry Christmas,” he says in a tremulous tone. 

You, Cal and Nathan wait in anxious silence for your mom to say something. She’s silent for a moment before smiling, eyes getting glossy and tears streaming down her cheeks as she reaches forward and hugs Nathan in a tight grip. “I’m going to be a grandma,” she cries. 

Cal nudges you with her shoulder. “We’re gonna be aunts,” she tells you, eyes wide and clearly in shock. 

“I’m going to be an uncle!” Jungkook yells, wrapping his arms around you from behind while you’re trying to fold your laundry. “I can’t believe it.”

You giggle, “I know, I know. You’ve been screaming about it since Seokjin first told us.” Jungkook introduced you to his brothers six months after meeting him. Six months after that you were asked to be his girlfriend and now in nine months time, you’ll be a not legit aunt. 

“I always thought Taehyung would be the first to have kids since he’s such a kid person, but since Seokjin is the one with a wife, it makes more sense.” He smiles at you as he removes his grip from around your waist and takes a seat on your bed where your folded clothes lie. “I’m going to spoil that baby and ruin Seokjin’s life with how spoiled that baby is.” 

“Well you’re about to ruin my neatly folded clothes with your determination to spoil a baby that hasn’t been born yet,” you laugh, grabbing his arm and pulling up off your bed.

You’re not sure why that memory came to you all of a sudden. Maybe it’s because you’re going to be an aunt in nine months. Maybe it’s because you’re going to spoil that baby like Jungkook always talked about and did when Haru was born. Maybe his dedication rubbed off on you. 

“We should probably head out,” Nathan’s voice rings, bringing you out of your thoughts. “Dad’s lunch is starting soon.” You follow in suit, getting up from your spot on the couch in the living room. You grab the remaining wrapping paper that was torn apart off the floor, tossing it in the trash where the rest lay. Grabbing the presents everyone got you, you place them carefully in a bag, feeling the weight of it drag your arm down. "Bye, Mom. Thanks for the presents and breakfast." Nathan gives your mom a tight hug. 

You smile at your mom as she releases your brother and opens her arms for you to walk into. “Come by more often, yeah? You only have one mother you know,” she lectures, rubbing your back affectionately. 

You chuckle. “Yes, yes. I’ll come by and visit more often.” Saying goodbye to your mom, you get into your car and follow your siblings to your dad’s house on the other side of town. All five of you used to live in the middle of the city; a nice cozy home where you shared so many memories. Your parents divorced and your father moved up north while your mother moved south. Both completely away from one another where they never have to see each other for any reason other than something important happening to you or Cal or Nathan. 

Twenty minutes later, you pull up to the driveway of your dad’s house. Just like your mom’s, your father’s house is decorated with lights, and other types of decorations on the outside. You can only imagine what it looks like on the inside with your dad’s new girlfriend always being extra when it comes to Christmas. More than your mom. Grabbing the rest of your siblings presents and your dad’s gift from the trunk, you follow Cal and Nathan to the front door. Cal knocks on the door and a few seconds later the door opens revealing your dad with red frosting all over his lips. 

“Hey,” he begins, voice booming with excitement, “I’m glad you guys made it just in time! We’re putting frosting on the cookies.” Your dad moves to open the door more for you three to enter. 

“Put frosting on the cookies or eat the frosting?” Nathan asks, placing a finger on his chin where a small dab of frosting stuck and wiped it on his apron. 

Your father laughs, “You know me, I can’t help myself when it comes to frosting.” 

The day goes on as you spend a few hours at your dad’s place. You talk about what you’ve done since you last saw one another, Nathan being a future father, and how long the lines were for the recent Christmas movie that came out in theaters. You opened the presents and ate the cookies they made—they were actually good. Everything was peaceful, and for the first time, you spent Christmas without one of your parents saying something bad about the other. 

That is until your dad made a joke about your mom and you decided it was time to leave. You say your goodbyes once again, and left the house. You’ll wait for your father’s apology text; you’ll tell him to stop acting like a child and grow up about the divorce, and that’ll be the end of that. Your mom may hear about it, and you’ll have to tell her the same thing. 

It’s your endless circle of bull. 

You show up to Rory and Mina’s place earlier than usual. When you knock on the door, a surprised Mina opens it, but it immediately disappears when you shake your head at her. You enter the small, comforting house as Rory walks up to you and hands you a glass of eggnog. You drank it like you’re dehydrated. You just want today to be over already. 

“We were just about to decorate the tree if you want to help,” Mina says, holding up some ornaments. 

“You’re barely doing it on the last day?” you question, placing the glass on the coffee table before following her to the tree that was also in the corner of the living room. 

“This is our friend tree,” Mina starts, tone defensive, “we already have our actual tree up in the den.” 

“An actual tree?” You grab an ornament from her hand and hang it on the “friend” tree. 

“We have one for the family, and we have one for our friends. All ornaments for this tree has pictures and stupid things from you guys,” Rory explains, lifting an ornament picture of Ben. Taking a closer look you see that it’s a picture of him in the middle of taking a bite out of his burger. HIs mouth opened and his eyes looked wild and hungry as he ate. You can’t help but laugh. “Remember his face when we first put it up on the tree? He was pissed.” Rory laughs along with you. 

You remember that memory. Ben lectured you guys for a while. As you continue to decorate the tree, you can’t help but remember your first time putting up a tree together with just Jungkook. It was your first Christmas as a couple and he wanted to help you decorate your tree at your apartment. 

“I say we don’t put lights on your tree,” he grunts, struggling to untangle the Christmas lights. 

You grin as you watch him before pulling out another box of decorations. “You almost got it,” you encourage, clearly finding this amusing. 

“If you keep smiling like that I’ll just leave you here to do this yourself,” Jungkook warns, glancing at you with a small hint of playfulness. 

“Okay. Sorry, sorry.” You go over and sit across from him on the floor. Grabbing the other set of lights, you untangle the knot with him. “Thanks for helping me by the way.” You glance at him, watching a small smile grow at his lips. 

“Christmas is my favorite holiday. The decorations, the present wrapping, opening the presents, and a bunch more,” he explains, a look of victory on his face when the lights untangle. “Why aren’t you as excited as I am?” 

You give Jungkook an awkward smile. You never told him about your parent’s divorce, but you suppose now would be a good time as ever. “Uh…” you trail off, handing your still tangled lights to him. “My parents divorced, and now they’ve ruined all of this by talking bad about one another and always trying to keep you from doing something with the other parent. They just ruined the whole… family thing Christmas is about.” 

Jungkook is suddenly to his feet, the lights untangled once again. He looks down at you with determination. Holding his hand out for you, he announces, “Well today I’m going to make you love the whole process of Christmas all over again.” 

“What?” you chuckle nervously, slowly reaching for his hand. 

He grabs it, startling you as he pulls you to your feet. You don’t have great balance with the force he causes when pulling you as you fall into him. He wraps his arms around you as you look to meet his eyes. He smiles his toothy smile, placing a small kiss on your nose. “Let’s decorate the hell out of that tree.” 

You can feel the heat rise in your cheeks. You should be used to this by now, but every time he does something cute, you’d only act like it was the first time he’s ever done it. “Okay,” you mumble, feeling him release you from his grasp, but you’re only disappointed it ended so soon. 

Walking to the tree, you watch Jungkook as he gets on the step stool and starts at the top of the tree to wrap the lights around. You stand on the other side, grabbing the lights to bring it around the tree and back into his hands. Finishing the first lights, Jungkook gets down and grabs the second set of lights, but not before pulling his phone out of his pocket and browsing through it before you hear a familiar song play through the Bluetooth speaker you have sitting next to your television. You smile as he looks at you. Suddenly he starts dancing to the Christmas song playing. Swaying side-to-side, snapping his fingers, he looks like he’s never danced before. You can't hold back your laughter as you watch him dance his way back to the stool to finish wrapping the tree in lights. You bob your head to the song as you help him with the lights, then the garland and finally the ornaments and star. 

Everything is ready. Ready for presents to go under and pictures to be taken. You’re going to be one of those people who takes a picture of their tree, but Jungkook thinks of something better and takes your hand in his, bringing you closer to him. He wraps an arm around your waist, the other holding your hand to your chest as he sways side-to-side with you. Placing a hand on his shoulder, you rest your head on his shoulder as well. The two of you danced in silence for a while, even though some songs were upbeat. 

“I love you, Y/N,” Jungkook whispers after a few more seconds of silence. 

You don’t hesitate, and maybe that’s what shocks you the most as you answer, “I love you, too.”

Everyone is gathered in the living room, talking and laughing about everything. It’s getting hard to have everyone hang out, but you’re grateful to see familiar faces smiling. Some are running late or won’t be showing up at all, and it hurts you just a bit to know that you’re all growing and maturing as time goes on. You won’t be seeing these people as often as you used to or wish to. Eventually they’ll just disappear out of your life and move on with their own. Enjoying everything that comes their way while you struggle to stay afloat with everything happening in your life. 

You get up from your seat, telling the few who notice you try and leave that you only need air. That you’ll be back in just a sec. Once outside in the spacious backyard, you take in several deep breaths. There are plenty of times where you wish you had their lives—any of their lives. They get over their parents divorce, or their family is still one. They don’t have to mature so early in life, and they enjoy the little things. They love their job. They’re happy where they’re at, but always willing to strive for more. 

Your life only crumbles. 

Closing your eyes, you imagine Jungkook walking out the back door to comfort you. He’s always concerned and late at every important event. He lights up your world when you struggle to swim above the roaring waters. 

Opening your eyes, Jungkook stands in front of you, your favorite smile plastered on his face. “I see you’ve missed me,” he says, a hint of teasing in his tone. You can only roll your eyes at him. “Do you want to build a snowman?” he suddenly questions. “It seems like you forgot the meaning of Christmas.” 

You scoff, “Are you Jack Frost or Santa or something?” 

Jungkook shrugs. “I may be.” He walks past you and more to the middle of the lawn, getting on his knees. “So are we doing this or what?”

You sigh, clearly giving in to him like you always do as you walk up to him and get to your knees. You gather as much snow to the middle, creating a bigger pile and forming it into a ball. When the two of you decide it’s just big enough, you start to form a smaller ball for the middle section. 

“Tough day?” he asks, eyes focused on forming the ball. 

“More like year,” you confess. 

“Look,” he begins, slowly picking up the ball and placing it on the bigger one, only for it to somewhat break apart, “fuck—life has been rough for you. For the years I’ve known you, you are always the one to take everything in. No matter how hard and tiring it is, you have to just make time for yourself only. Don’t let your parents get to you; tell them off once in a while. They’re adults, too, and they have to know that putting the kid in the middle of their ridiculous fight is getting them nowhere. Also you need to have fun, too. You’re in your twenties and acting like you’re forty-something is not the answer. I don’t like telling people I’m dating a grandma.” 

You stare at him in shock. “Grandmother? That’s—how—” You have no idea what to say to that. So, instead of saying anything, you grab a handful of snow and shove it in his face. “Shall I tell people I’m with a kid then? I don’t think they’ll like that.”

With his eyes closed, he is frozen from the impact. He wipes at his eyes, clearly in shock as he stares at you. “I see this is how we’re starting our night.” You don’t have time to react as a handful of snow was shoved in your face. 

It’s an all out war with him as the two of you go to opposite ends of the yard and hide behind trees as you throw snowballs at one another. Clearly you’re both bad seeing as for the following ten minutes, you both hit each other once during the entire fight. Jungkook catches you off guard when he suddenly lies on the floor, stretching his arms and legs out and begins to sweep them in a semicircle. You drop the snowball and walk over and lie next to him, creating your own snow angel. 

From the corner of your eye, you see him get up and look down at his masterpiece. He looks pleased before looking over to you. He gives you a sad smile. “I know life is hard, and I know me not being here is harder, but know that even though I’m not here, I’ll always be with you. I love you so much, Y/N, and you’re going to do amazing things in life. But you need to be a kid once in a while. How else am I to appear?” He chuckles. “Bring me an Christmas tree ornament yeah?” 

You wipe at your tears. “Yeah.”

That’s how you spend your Christmas with Jungkook at the secret Santa party, and that’s what he’d say if he was still here. But he’s not here.  

“Y/N?” You open your eyes to see Rory, Mina and Ben standing around you. “Everyone left and the cemetery should still be open. Ready to see Jungkook?” Ben asks, holding his hand out to you. 

You let out a shaky breath and reply, “Yeah.”

[streets-in-paradise]

Fictional Sibling relationships i live for

I had been thinking about this topic lately and decided i would like to make a post about it because it is a very fun and interesting one for me. I had mentioned a few times here that in terms of fandom involvement i am more invested in family and frienships than in shippings, particulary i have a fixation with strong sibling bonds or sibling like friendships. I think it must be because i have a strong bond with my younger sister, i identify with that and that’s why i tend to get more involved and interested in this sort of character interactions. 

I will keep this just in movies, movie adaptations of books and tv shows because i don’t want it to be super long but still want to talk. In movie adaptations i will try to stay in movie’s territory as much as i can, if i add commentary on the book versions this would never end but i may slip a bit towards it because i can’t help it. 

As always, i make the disclaimer over the images i will use here, they belong to the sites where i found them.  

Sorry for my pathetic language skills in english. 

Note: this got so long that i will probably make a second part for more characters i coulnd’t include 

Boromir and Faramir in lotr 

Lotr is full of great material for people who, like me, obsess over families. Frodo and Bilbo, Merry and Pippin, Elrond and Arwen, Theoden ,Eowyn and Eomer are other great examples of family relationships i’m interested on from here ( i pretty much love to overthink stuff about almost all the lotr family relationships). I choose to talk about this bros because they have a particular place in my heart. How many times we had seen the common trope of a royal or noble family where the father is a dick who gives all his love and attention to the older brother, neglects the little one causing him to grow up resentfull and ending up as a villian while dad’s favourite is the hero of the tale? Not this time, and it is so refreshing. 

Boromir and Faramir choose each other over their father’s bullshit, you can see it in the lovely deleted scene the gif up here comes from. When Denethor shows up they are both annoyed, when he is mean to Faramir Boromir calls him out and tries so hard to make him show some appreciation for his youngest son. it is clear that, in this version, Boromir is more family to Faramir than his father ever was. I love how much they care for each other, how they pass beyond the differences. Boromir is a super amazing big bro, i love how he protects Faramir and is there for him instead of letting his father’s praise get in between. I could talk for hours about this two because i love them so much. I’m doing a hard effort in stopping myself from throwing a whole set of headcanons i have for them so i will stop now before i get too excited. 

Fili and Kili in The Hobbit

Staying in Middle Earth for one more mention i had to talk about this two. Being fully honest, the movies broke my heart because they took the exact opposite way i would had wished for. When they were introduced In An Unexpected Journey this two adorable brothers were one of my favourite aspects of it because i loved their Merry and Pippin like dumb chaotic energy. One of my biggest complains with the Hobbit adaptation is to have shifted the narrative of the strongly family focused story arc of the Line of Durin. Kili’s romance with Tauriel shifted the focus and, in my particular perspective, i hated that because i was already super involved in the family story. Besides from the “I belong with my brother”  iconic line we don’t see much more of Fili and Kili’s bond after the introduction of Tauriel. In fact, Fili loses a lot of his initial screentime in Desolation of Smaug and Battle of the Five Armies.

 I love this two, the relationship with their uncle as it was introduced in the first film and i would had loved to see more of their family dinamic explored. One of my biggest complains, besides from the change of focus on their supposed ending, is that i’m convinced that they should had entered the mountain with the rest of the company. It is such an important moment they would probably waited for since they were children, is the legacy of their family. In short terms, i love them and i would had loved to keep seeing future developments of the Line of Durin story they had in AUJ. 

Hector and Paris in Troy 

This two represent the opposite case. The relationship they have in this movie is very different from the source material but i love the great development it has here. It is outstanding to see the importance the sibling bond has in a movie that is supposed to be about a war caused by a romantic passion. 

The sons of King Priam are absolute opposites. Hector is the embodiment of a true hero, a Steve Rogers of ancient times. His strong caring nature and will to protect everyone reminds me of Boromir as well. Unlike Faramir,Paris is a freaking mess. He is the careless, adventurous and reckless little brother Hector ends up protecting every single time he gets into trouble. I had stated before that i think Paris is a selfish prick but i think that is a slight confussion of mine with the original. This Paris is more a reckless dumbass and, unlike Iliad Paris, his arc in the movie it’s a bit more simpathetic. In this version Helen is trapped in a loveless marriage to an old prick who treats her like trash (in the director’s cut Menelaus jokes about how he only cares for his wife for breeding purposes on a conversation with Hector). I can understand at some point that, if he trully fell in love with her, he felt horrible for letting her stay there as a prisoner of her husband. Going back to the my focus for this talk, i like that the movie had decided to make this two close brothers who actually care for each other despite being absolute opposites instead of two guys who barely know each other, are barely aware of being brothers and share only hatefull interactions. 

Hector’s protectiveness over Paris warms my heart. He had threated him a few times ( director’s cut has the “ i will rip off your pretty face from your pretty skull” excharge. I love that scene), he gets furious at him for his foolishness, they argue but when the time comes he always chooses to protect him. Honestly, that’s such a big bro thing, i can’t help to feel identified. The weight that this relationship has in the development of the story is a surprising thing and it makes everything more tragic. Paris being the killer of Achilles has a more significant meaning because, now it’s not just the irony of the weakest character killing the strongest. Paris is aware that he owns the memory of his fallen brother so much, he wants revenge. Hector was there for him all his life, the least he can do for him is to kill his killer and avenge his death. Briseis begs him to stop but he can’t let himself do that, he owns it to Hector and that debt is bigger than anything. 

I will not delay this any longer, the family relationships on this movie are my favourite aspect of it and i have a soft spot for the bond between the trojan princes. Don’t get surprised if i one of this days i end up making an entire separate post talking about the family dinamics displayed in the film (same goes for lotr but that would take me ages and i would have to make an entire series of posts if i wanted to discuss every lotr family relationship i would want to talk about). 

Sam and Dean Winchester in Supernatural 

If you reached this point you may had noticed that i have a big thing with family tragedies involving siblings. Supernatural is my favourite show because it combines lots of elements i love. To mention just a few: horror, mythology,classic rock and a strong family approach in its pretty tragic but outstanding plot. 

Sam and Dean are one of my favourite duo of bros of all time. I don’t think i have a lot to say about them because their relationship has been analized lots of times by the very big fanbase of the show. My main difference with the common interpretation is that i don’t see the Winchester family in a similar way to the movie versions of the Steward of Gondor and his sons, which means i don’t think John has been the shittiest father ever despite his many mistakes. Unlike movie Denethor he tried hard and in the interactions we saw of him with his boys he actually cares for both of them. 

This bros were the ones that made me realize in an actual concient way of my tendency to get too attached to families, story arcs regarding them and sibling love. I’m super attached to this story, i don’t know what the hell i’m going to do with my life once it ends. 

I will end this post here. It is more than sure that there would be a part two because i have tons of more brothers,sisters and other family relationships to talk about. 

Thanks to everyone who has read my very long ramble 

[gundhams-pandemonium]

Can Avoados Read Fanfiction?

(will post on Ao3 very soon, so if youd perfer the link please ask me! )

V3 Talentswap using Thh Talents and Setting. All talents we're randomized (all have been set). Every comemnt/reblog/like (and any questions for any of my aus) etc is highly appreciated 💕

"Hey, hey hey hey," The purple hair teen proded Rantaro's shoulder for the umpteenth time. The lucky student should reply, though at the same time he felt like it'd be more trouble then it's worth.

On the other hand, the constant poking was annoying, even for the patience he had. And it wouldn't hurt to hear him talk.

"Yes, Kokichi?" The fellow student gave a devilish grin, awaiting this moment. Rantaro felt that he had fallen in a carefully lain trap and had no chance of escape.

" ... Do you want to read my work?" He basically vibrated in excitement. What a hard read, first a creepy grin and then the extreme childlike exciment? Long ago he decided not to figure out the self proclaimed "Supreme Leader's" (his talent had to do with writing fanfiction yet he paraded himself with the former title) motivations.

He weighed the options in his head, if he said no then he'd be pestered again. Who knows how long that would last, perhaps until the night time announcement. If he said yes, he'd have to read and maybe listen to him rant about a certain show or characters.

Yes didn't sound too bad.

"Sure, I'd love to," Based on the 'innocent' smile apparent on the other's face he feared he may have picked the wrong choice.

Kokichi suddenly reached in his pocket and pulled out a folded up paper. It was promptly shoved into Rantaro's hands.

With caution, he carefully unfolded it. The teen watched with large violet eyes, and rocked back on the heels of his feet. He did his beat to ignore his companion and looked to the paper.

Written at the top was fine print, and a list of slang that went over his head. Lemon? RPF? MxM? Not Beta Read we die like men?

Alright, alright. He skimmed to the large title which was a just an H, then preceded downward.

'Rantaro Amami had the second biggest dic-'

"... Why am I in this... story?"

"Uhh, cause it's for you! Duh! I don't know what shows you like, much less the pairings for each one. So I whipped something up that was personal, nihihi!"

"Isn't fanfiction about fictional characters, though?"

"Ugg! Real Person Fiction! Amami-Chan is sooo uncultured! Just read it, don't question it."

He decided to continue, hoping that the first sentance would be the only one of it's kind.

'The thing about him though, is how he may have fuck-' He skipped that sentence 'But he'd never been fu-' He skipped that too. 'Kokichi Ouma was the only one who even dared to challenge the stud. By challenge that meant de-pantsing him in the middle of the hall and shov-'

"So! So! So! Soooooooo! Do you like it? Isn't it good? I'd say it's my best work yet!"

He didn't even get through the first paragraph; the writing was worse then Miu's mouth and that was a challenge in itself.

"I'm sorry Ouma. I didn't even get through half of it. I don't want to insult you but-"

"You... dont like it?" His purple irises widened, and his once lively posture stiffened.

"I just... It just the first sentence definitely caught my attention but in a werid way? It's definitely not my thing, sorry," He probably sounded harsh- but what was he supposed to say.

He looked to the boy, his head lowered. Rantaro found his mind screaming at him. He was trying to be gentle, though it was hard to find positives in something he couldnt even fully read.

"...you..." His voice turned, as rough as stone and his entire stomach flipped.

Maybe he should've lied, this was a killing game after all and he'd never seen Kokichi angry before. Sure, the teen wasn't even close to his height and he didn't look like he had a muscle on him. However, who knows what could be hidden in that backpack.

"Haha! That was made in less then five minutes! That isn't even close to being my favorite work!" His laughter rang through the air, and all the lucky student could do was stare. "Don't look so dumbfounded! I gave you a test and you passed! Not a lot of people have, they just go tell me there filthy lies about how it's better then the classics. I hate liars, they aren't allowed to read my finest work."

Rantaro didn't say how hypocritical he sounded, instead nodding at the teen. He definitely did expect something better from the Ultimate Fanfic Writer. Th said writer began to dig in the back of his bag, producing a small hand-bound book.

"Here! I've sold this one for over 200,000 yen, but you can have it for free for passing the test," He highly doubted anyone could sell any book (save for orginal copies of something 2000 years old) for that price but found himself unable to argue.

He still looked at it hesitantly.

"Oh, don't worry! All content warnings are on the first two pages, but be warned it could contain spoilers. Also, you won't need to much background for the series to read it but the names will be a little strange to someone who hasn't played the games or watched the show. Otherwise, It'd be completely passable as 'orginal work's. I hate that term by the way, my ideas are orginal! I'm just inspired by the wonderful characters of 'arson man trash-fire' and 'the guy who puts up with his shit for some reason' and 'Sassy Girl who hates trash-man but loves guy-who-puts-up-with-everything'."

Though he didn't understand half of what Kokichi was saying, he skimmed the first page of story text and he didn't see anything that told about his dick or the like.

"I do like to read before bed, so thanks Kokichi. I appreciate it," The teen rolled his eyes in response but was smiling.

Rantaro couldn't help starting it as soon as he could; he was curious by the actual fanfiction writer's ability. He didn't realize he'd soon be so sucked into the world that he not only missed the night-time announcement but only stopped when he heard the morning one go off.

Oh... this was good.

[everlarkficquestions]

Sunday Stumped Day 31

It’s another Sunday Stumped Day!

Sometimes we straight out get stumped. So every few months we will pick a Sunday when we’ll post of a list of asks that we need your help on.

If you know the answer to any of these asks please shoot us a message/ ask/  with the Post number and the fic details and we’ll add it and give you a shout out with our thanks. Any links you can provide will also be super helpful.

Thanks!

Post 1 , Post 2 , Post 3, Post 4, Post 5, Post 6, Post 7, Post 8, Post 9, Post 10, Post 11, Post 12, Post 13, Post 14, Post 15, Post 16, Post 17, Post 18, Post 19, Post 20, Post 21, Post 22 , Post 23, Post 24, Post 25, Post 26, Post 27, Post 28, Post 29 , and Post 30 can be found here - and there are still fics we need your help with.

521. bnedd said to everlarkficquestions:

Hi! I’m looking for a fic I read awhile ago. it’s post mockingjay and Peeta still has bad episodes. Gale comes back and the story shows her process of choosing Peeta over gale and one thing I really remember about it is that Peeta has a bad episode in katniss’s room and destroys it and snaps her favorite bow in half.  Thanks in advance!

522. 19fundiesandcounting said to everlarkficquestions: 

Any fics where Katniss fakes an orgasm?

523. thefuckingstory said to everlarkficquestions:   

hi i'm looking for a fic with everlark building up to having sex after the end of the series and working through trauma together.  i think katniss masturbates in the lake at one point.

524. imaginationgirl555555 said to everlarkficquestions:      

Looking for katniss/peeta fanfic. Katniss asked peeta over, believe baby was involved, he found out she is actually goigg on date, try's to persuade her not to go but she leaves. Ends up in her car crying at the restraunt where she was supposed to meet Cato for date. She ends up leaving to go to peeta

525. brithna said to everlarkficquestions:     

Looking for two fics. I remember a lot of it takes place in the tour... Pretty and and heavy. I think there was one part where they were on the train trying to climb to top just to see if they could. It pisses me off that I can't remember more because that's not a lot to go on, I know.   Another one -- the team pretty much helps some woman (I think) to jump off the train and get to D4. That's all I can remember...

526. brithna said to everlarkficquestions:  

Also looking for fic where katniss' mom tears Peeta's mom a new ass because she hit him then he basically moves in with them?

527. mellarkablegirl said to everlarkficquestions:     

Hello! It's me again. Sorry about the tonnes of asks. But I just wanted to know if anyone has everlarked the movie 'No Reservations ' ? The one with Catherine Zeta Jones and Aaron Eckhart.  Cause its practically begging to be . Also all the characters in the movie fit so well into the THG universe.  Once again I'm sorry about the influx of asks🙈

528. mandelion82 said to everlarkficquestions:       

I'm looking for an Age Gap fic where Peeta is Katniss’s teacher and they play piano together. In the end, he asks her father for permission to take her out.

529. waywardangel-wilds said to everlarkficquestions:            

Hi! I read a fic a long time ago that I cannot remember the name of it or anything. I remember that Katniss and Peeta had been arguing, or were just mad at each other for a while. Peeta went to town and was standing outside his house talking to a girl holding a laundry basket (delly I think?) And Katniss was so pissed at both of them that she shot an arrow at the porch column behind them.

530. 19fundiesandcounting said to everlarkficquestions:                                    

Any fics where Katniss dies in the quell?

531. saltyfacedelusion said to everlarkficquestions:                                            

Hi! I remember reading a small FIC, similar to the Final eight by fernwithy. A “five times”story. Gale watches the games and the first and second and comments on some points (actions, words of Peeta, of course kisses:)) angry and jealous. I looked at your jealous Gale sheet, but I didn't see anything like it.  Looking for a week, desperate ((Can you think of something?)

532. wendywobbles said to everlarkficquestions:                                                

Hello! I was hoping you could work your story finding magic for me. I remember reading a story ages ago. Katniss gets hurt, Peeta is a nurse and in her medicated state she sings to him  or  is super vocal about how cute he is. Gale catches it on his phone and it ends up online. It was a very sweet story, I’d love to read it again. Thanks 🙂

533. i-am-batman-chick said to everlarkficquestions:        

Hey,  Thanks for keeping up on this. I was wondering if you could help me find a story I read a while ago. I can't remember much but Katniss and Peeta were both going back into the arena. I remember there being a part where they were on the roof and Joanna was peeking out of the door watching them. I think she didn't believe they were really an item. I'm not too sure but I think when they were in the arena they were also talking about how they broke into Haymitchs and stole his alcohol too. TIA

FOUND! Catching Fire: Rekindling- Jamie Sommers The Johanna roof spying happens in Chapter 18  (Thank you, @icbiwf!)

534. hersheys-oranges said to everlarkficquestions:   

Hello, I’m trying to find this EverLark fanfic where I think they’re both campaign managers. Peeta is from an influential family and Katniss is from a common background. I think the author was gonna rewrite the story from either Katniss or Peeta’s POV because the first version was very well-taken. Thank you. :)

535. suenosyutopias said to everlarkficquestions:   

katniss cheats on peeta with gale and peeta stays with katniss because prim comes to visit (sorry my english)

536. weepingmilkshakesandwich said to everlarkficquestions:                            

Hi! Any fics where Katniss wears Peeta's jacket or shirt and other people notice?

The Bet by amelia_day, Peeta’s sweatshirt (Thank you, @567inpanem​!)

537. ryookineko said to everlarkficquestions:                                                      

Hi Guys, I am looking for a Pride and Prejudice type fanfic where Peeta is a merchant and Gale is like a dark bad Darcy. Katniss and Prim lives with Haymitch and Effie is like their governess trying to get Katniss married. I tried the master lists but couldn’t find it. Thanks!

FOUND Prospects & Propriety - juniebugg                

538.

do you have any 5+1 or 4+1 fics?

539.  the-fire-might-be-shooting-at-us said:                                            

Hi! I'm looking for a fit where Peeta doesn't mention Katniss or his love for her in THG and so after the games he basically gets turned into Finnick 2.0. I think there was an unrequited Katniss/Gale relationship at some point but I'm not sure.

540. bethpeaches123 said:                                            

Hi, you wonderful people! I’m looking for a fic where Peeta is a teacher/prof and Katniss is a student and they run into each other at a coffee shop one night and instead of her taking the bus he drives her home. Anyone know which fic I’m talking about? That’s literally the only thing I remember because I kept picturing the coffee shop i frequent. Thank you for your help!!

FOUND!  The Professor by atetheredmind. (Thank you @mrspeetamellark​ and @sunsetsrmydreams​!)

541. mellarkablegirl said to everlarkficquestions:                                                

the second one where Katniss's mother sells her villa/cottage to Peet and Finnick who open a restaurant or bed and breakfast there. I think Katniss moves back in with her mother when this happens .

542. allonsycaptain said to everlarkficquestions:                                                

hey, could you please help me find a fic? i read it this summer, in the story peeta and katniss were taking pills to treat their depression/ptsd, and then they stopped taking them because they couldn’t have sex because of them, and then they were sick later and felt terrible because they stopped taking them.. thank you for your help:)

FOUND! Cold Embers - lieselmemengers (Thank you, @rosegardeninwinter!)

543. Hey guys thank your for all the hard work! I am searching for a fic that I dont remember its name, is about Katniss and Peeta being a couple and one night at a party Delly kisses Peeta and Katniss decides to return home by herself walking on the street and someone kidnapps her for years, she has a miscarriage from her rapist but she manages to escape. The rest of the fic is of her coping from the trauma and Peeta helping her. — aloe--verga 

544. hungergamesfangirl02 said to everlarkficquestions:                                    

Hii! Do yall know of a fic where Katniss is taken hostage into the Capitol. And either she had intimacy or is pregnant with Peeta. And she gets hijacked to think Peeta is bad and that he raped her. And then Peeta is the Mockingjay. And when Katniss is rescued, and she talks to herself. And when she can tell what happened to her, Gale beats up Peeta.

545. justanotherrandomaccount9999 said to everlarkficquestions:                    

Hi! Do you know any fics where Katniss saw Peeta with another girl after the 74th Games but before the Quarter Quell? Thanks.

546. 19fundiesandcounting said to everlarkficquestions:                                    

Hi, I’m looking for a fix where everyone in district twelve, the victors and everlark were escaping a peace keeper attack through tunnels that led to district 13 but Finnick and katniss got captured. Also I believe that Cato and glimmer were torturing them. Thanks

547. myhopesareanchoredinyou said to everlarkficquestions:                            

hey! i’m looking for a fic (i thiiink it was on fan fiction. com or whatever) where gale gets reaped instead of katniss and peeta and katniss and peeta and gale are friends and gale thinks katniss is in love with her and katniss and peeta have sex in the meadow and katniss gets pregnant and they have to get married? they get married and katniss wears her moms dress?

A Mistake – VMA1998

548. redhoodhungergames said to everlarkficquestions:                                    

Hey! I don’t know too much about the fic but I’ll just list what I remember •Peeta and Katniss have sex in a kitchen, and in order to not make noise she bites onto his neck•peeta and gale are Gaurding some place and gale either sees the mark or peeta mentions it and he’s like “damn, she bit you?” (Gale doesn’t like Katniss here.)That’s...about all I remember, they weren’t sent into the games here if I recall correctly but I believe they exist Anyway I hope this is enough!

549. bethpeaches123 said to everlarkficquestions:                                            

Hi, first of all, thank you so much for the work you do with this, it is so appreciated and impressive how much knowledge you have! The fic I’m looking for is when Katniss and Peeta have won the Games and (I think) are forced to get married, and they get envelopes and have to go to The Capitol and have sex while paying customers watch? And at one point, they’re performing for a couple of men and one of them tries to join them I think? I’ve been doing some digging around but can’t for the life of me find it. TIA!!

550. craftydiva0828 said to everlarkficquestions:                                                

Thanks in advance and maybe I'm losing it but... Is there a fic where Katniss is pregnant during the Quell and they call the baby "Banana nut bread". I think they also communicate in sign language or silently.

FOUND! Catching Fire: Rekindling- Jamie Sommers  (Thank you, @blackberrysweater and @superchocovian!)  

Do any of these fics ring a bell? Please let us know!

[raeseddon]

Why The Redemption Arc Debate Doesn’t Stand Up On It’s Own Two Feet

So, here's the thing: there's a narrative difference between having one single bad guy in a story who is meant to be a foil to the main characters in a long running narrative, and having a bad guy, or bad guys who can and should (occasionally) lead to character development on both sides.

It's very important to tell both types of stories, because it reflects reality. There are people you'll meet in life who are unmoveable; who represent everything you're not in a perfect reflection-- and there are people who you meet who are capable of change, and helping you change in the process as well. In other words, this is about why it makes sense for certain characters to get "redemption arcs" (prove they are capable of change) and why it doesn't make sense for other characters.

I wish there was a better way than $tar Wars to explain the distinction, but it's one of the greatest examples in modern fiction of this exact problem.

Everyone's going to have a different take on this, obviously, but speaking strictly from a narrative point of view, it's easy to tell when a writer, or group of writers don't know how to make that distinction. Let's look at $tar Wars-- it makes sense for Vader to be redeemed. As poorly executed as the prequels were, they tried to tell a story about how a traumatized kid was radicalized from being someone who wanted to really try to stop the terrible things that happened to him from happening to anyone else, to being someone who was manipulated into believing that wasn't possible under anything less than a totalitarian dictatorship. The prequels contextualized why Anikin/Vader was capable of standing up to Palpantine to save his son, who he had no idea was alive, and who rekindled the slumbering humanity Anikin/Vader never wholly lost. And as that rekindling of humanity unfolds, spearheaded by Luke's unwavering belief in it, characters like Leia change with him and start to believe that Anikin/Vader is capable of change as well. Narratively, Luke, Leia and Vader all benefit from Vader's role as a bad guy whose narrative purpose is to facilitate change in most of the main characters. It's his entire purpose, even if the prequels don't articulate that as well as they could. In order to tie in and makes sense of the original trilolgy, Vader had to have that role.

Then you have Mr. Daddy Issues, who had clung to a false idea of what his grandfather was, who was written in a way in the beginning that meant he was supposed to be a foil to all the other characters, who (subtextually) knew the truth about Anikin/Vader's life, about the sacrifices he made and why he made them. Rylo Ken, when he was introduced, was set up to be a true foil: someone whose narrative purpose should have been immoveable. He was the mirror to Rey, Finn and Poe (especially Finn, the former Storm Trooper, who was propagandized in the same way Rylo Ken was, but broke away from it almost immdiately in a narrative sense--something that is completely forgotten when his role in the narrative is grossly downgraded in favor of Mr. Daddy issues.) The reason Daddy Issues' "redemption" made no sense to so many people was because they caught on right away to the fact that he was meant to be a foil, that he was meant to be unchanagable--something that is completely thrown away five minutes into the second movie.

It's not about whether a character "deserved" redemption, it's about how much sense it makes from a narrative perspective; that the option is open to them. If a writer is going to open that door mid-narrative they better really make a good case as to why, because otherwise a good half or more of the audience will be left going "What the fuck was that?!" Which is exactly what happened in $tar Wars and so, so many other stories where the writers change direction mid-stream. There's rarely ever a convincing case made as to why, they simply expect the audience/viewers to accept that decision blindly, on a faith that often isn't there. God, I can't express in words how much I hate using $tar Wars for this but it's just... it did such a good/awful job of showing, not telling why the two different narrative paths are important, and it's ubiquitious enough that a lot of people will understand it.

You can argue it however you want, but beyond fanatical love of a character, there's really only one way the debate stands up and that's a narrative analysis. If the only reason a character is redeemed is because that's what the writer wanted, for me, and people like me, it'll never be enough. We need more than "because I say so" because we have the very, very low bar of asking for a story that makes narrative sense; that backs up its decisions with evidence and a solid argument. And yes, we know that's often too much to ask in these massive franchises who will give the fans anything they want. That doesn't mean it's a totally unreasonable request.

[iamthegaysmurf]

Ok 3 and 28 is so soft and already so wayhaught but I think I am going to request 24, please.

03.  forehead kisses28.  forehead touches or nose nudging or any soft variation on the theme24.  ‘just really needed a hug’ sort of a hug13.  family

@darienplays6688, I wasn’t sure if you were asking for #24 instead of #3 and #28, or if you wanted that in addition to both of them.  So…  I went ahead and included a little bit of those for you, too.  Just in case.

———-

Okay, so…  Here’s the thing.  I know these were all supposed to be “Super Soft And Fluffy” prompts, but…  I think my brain overloaded on all of the fluff that wrote during the last three or four of these prompt fills.  If I didn’t let out some of this bottled up angst, I’m pretty sure I was going to explode.

So, like…  That’s not to say that this doesn’t have some really soft moments in it (and a happy ending, of course), but there’s definitely some angsty stuff along the way, and it’s not what I would call “fluffy” by any stretch of the imagination.

I’m really sorry, guys.  But I just couldn’t do it.  I hope you can still find a way to enjoy this fic that you’re getting instead.  : /

———-

Set just a day or two after the end of 3x07, but before it picks up with any of the events of 3x08.  

Also, the scenes are not in chronological order.  It starts in the present, and then alternates between flashbacks and then back to the present again.  Should hopefully be pretty easy to follow, but just wanted to give you a head’s up.

———-

“Hey, Babygirl.  I think you might need to come down here.”

“What’s wrong?  Is it Nicole?  Is she hurt?”

“No, she’s okay.  She’s just, uh…  really quiet and kind of spacing out.  If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was stoned.  But this is Nicole ‘I have a lawbook shoved up my ass’ Haught we’re talking about here, so…”

“Wynonna.”

“Yeah.  Anyway.  I think maybe the stuff from today just kind of got to her a little.”

“Oh, god.  The little girl.  Was she…?”

“No!  No.  The kid’s fine.  Haught was a goddamn superhero today.  But don’t you fucking dare ever tell her I said that.”

“Where are you guys?  I’m packing up now.”

“You can meet us at the Shelterlands Forest Trailhead.”

“That’s where you guys are?  Fudgenuggets.  No wonder Nicole is spooked.  I’ll be there in like thirty minutes.”

“Half an hour?!”

“I’m at the library, Wynonna.  Unless one of you has figured out how to teleport yet, then it will take me thirty minutes to get all the way out there.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do with your ginger poptart until then?  I think she’s slightly burnt right now instead of lightly toasted.”

“I don’t know, Wynonna…  Maybe try talking to her?”

“Come on, Waves.  You know I’m fucked when it comes to all of that soft and gooey feelings bullshit.”

“That’s not entirely true.”

“Just… hurry.  You gotta fix your girlfriend before I end up breaking her even worse.”

//

“You sure you’re okay, Waves?”

“I’m fine, Wynonna,” Waverly answers, shoving notebooks and tomes into her bag.  “There’s nothing going on today.  I’m just gonna do a deep-dive into some of this research.  I’m tired of us always being two steps behind on everything.”

Wynonna understands the frustration.  They’ve been behind the 8-ball on this thing from the very beginning, dating all the way back to Wyatt himself.  

But she knows there’s more to Waverly’s mood, and it has everything to do with Mama skipping town again a couple of days ago.  At least she’d left a letter this time, but that had done little to quell Waverly’s heartbreak.  She doesn’t think Waverly had been completely caught off guard by the disappearance – it was less surprise, and more disappointed resignation – but that doesn’t mean she’s hurting any less.

Wynonna wishes there was more she could do to console Waverly, but to be completely honest, she still hasn’t quite recovered from the sting of it herself.  And that’s not counting the fact that she’d discovered Doc’s betrayal not five minutes after reading the warning Mama had left her.

Welcome to the shitshow, population: me.

“If you’re gonna do research all day, why are you packing everything up?” Wynonna eventually asks, worried about what Waverly might really be planning.  She’s not sure she has the energy, nor the mental capacity, to save her sister from some half-cocked mission she’s concocted to prove something to herself and everyone else in this godforsaken town.

“I’m just going to the library,” Waverly snaps, rolling her eyes.  “Didn’t realize I needed your permission.”

“Whoa, now,” Wynonna says, dropping her feet from the table they’ve been propped up on.  “Calm your tits there, girlie.  I was just wondering why you aren’t going to use the BBD office since everything is already here.”

“Sorry,” Waverly sighs heavily, her shoulders sagging as she drops into the nearest chair.  “It’s just…  Jeremy’s doing one of his experiments and he’s gonna be back any minute and I just don’t think I have it in me today to listen to him ramble all day.”  Shame causes her head to hang low, and she picks absentmindedly at one of the pockets on her bag.  “Nicole’s gonna be out on patrols all day to try and get her visibility up right before the election, so I can’t even use the desk in her office, and I just…  I just want to be alone with my books for a while.  My mind needs some peace and quiet,” she mumbles at the end with a half-hearted shrug.

Wynonna hesitates for a minute before finally biting the bullet and reaching out to place her hand over Waverly’s on the table between them.

“Whatever you need, Babygirl,” she says quietly, giving it a gentle squeeze.  “I’m here if you need anything.”

“I know,” Waverly says, eventually meeting Wynonna’s eye, but Wynonna can tell by the tremor in her voice that she doesn’t know.  That Mama’s selfishness has proven to be a crippling setback for Waverly, erasing the year and a half of progress that Wynonna and Nicole have been making toward helping Waverly believe they’ll never leave her.

Her baby sister may as well be at the bottom of the well that Bobo recently vacated, for all the good the past couple of months have done toward her abandonment issues.

Wynonna continues to hold Waverly’s gaze for a few more seconds, saddened by the doubt she finds there.  Squeezing her hand one last time, she finally leans over the table and kisses Waverly’s forehead.  She could kill Mama for what she’s done to Waverly again, and she could kill Doc for being complicit in her getaway.

She grits her teeth as she pulls back and stands from her chair.

That’s a problem for another day.

“So, you said Tater Haught’s gonna be on patrol all day?” Wynonna asks as casually as she can.

“Yes…”  Waverly looks Wynonna up and down.  “Why…?”

Wynonna shrugs, playing with the fringe on her leather jacket.

“Thought maybe she’d like some company.”

“You are volunteering to ride around on patrol with Nicole?”  Waverly hesitates,narrowing her eyes suspiciously.  “What are you really up to…?”

“Nothing,” Wynonna huffs.  “I’m just bored.  The Revs are quiet.  We have no new leads on Ball-Shart.  You’re off to find your Fortress of Solitude, and that leaves me with Opti-mug Prime over there.”

And Waverly may be looking for some peace and quiet, but the last thing Wynonna wants right now is to be alone with her thoughts.  There’s also that.

“You know what the Fortress of Solitude is?” Waverly asks and Wynonna immediately winces.  “Wow, you really have been spending too much time with Jeremy.”

Waverly giggles, and despite Wynonna’s mortification, she’s glad to see the small spark of joy in her sister’s eyes, no matter how fleeting.

“Right?” Wynonna gasps, feigning disgust.  “I’d much rather drive around with Haught Sauce and heckle the townsfolk than have to learn one more thing about a comic book character today.”  She spins Peacemaker around her finger ominously, surprising even herself when she doesn’t fuck it up this time like she usually does.

“I doubt Nicole will let you get away with much heckling.”  She watches Wynonna fumble with Peacemaker for a minute and then drops her hands to her hips.  “Although…” she starts, her head cocking slightly.  “Maybe a little ‘quality time’ would do you some good.  Might even be better than the get-along-shirt I ought to make you two idiots wear after all of the trouble you caused the other day.”

Wynonna opens her mouth to launch some snarky retort, but Waverly holds a hand up to stop her and Wynonna’s mouth snaps shut on its own before she even realizes it.

“I’ve already heard every excuse under the sun from both of you.  I’m not in the mood for reruns.”  Wynonna grumbles and shoves Peacemaker back in her holster, but refrains from arguing.  “Good.  I’ll text Nicole to pick you up out front.”

With that, she finishes gathering up her things and breezes past Wynonna, pausing in the doorway only long enough to tell her to have a good time and to behave.

Wynonna stands alone in the BBD office, silently wondering when she became the child to Waverly’s mom friend instincts, but then she hears Jeremy’s cheerful chattering coming down the hall and she decides to hightail it before she gets cornered by another one of his science-fiction lectures.

Grabbing a donut from the box Waverly had left on the table earlier, she stuffs the entire thing in her mouth in one go and rushes out of the station.

Still brushing the litany of crumbs away from her shirt and jacket while standing on the front sidewalk, she doesn’t notice the cruiser pull up to the curb.  When Nicole chirps the siren right behind her, Wynonna trips over her own feet, nearly doing a header right off the sidewalk and into the street.

She can hear Nicole’s laughter, even through the rolled-up windows of her patrol car.  She flips Nicole off as she stumbles closer to the car, so Nicole proceeds to chirp the siren at her again.

“Fuck you, Haught!” Wynonna curses through her remaining mouthful of donut as she wrenches open the passenger door, drawing a smug sort of satisfaction from the appalled look on Nicole’s face when even more crumbs come flying out of her mouth to litter the front seat.

“Gross, Earp!” Nicole scolds, immediately scooping the crumbs into her hand and depositing them in the little trash compartment she keeps in her center console.

Wynonna completely ignores her, propping her feet up on the dash.

“Let’s roll, Haughtie.”

//

“Maybe try talking to her,” Wynonna mocks under her breath when Waverly ends the call.

Wynonna slips her phone back in her pocket and glances over at Nicole.  

She hasn’t moved a muscle in at least five minutes, just staring blankly into the open trunk of her patrol car while the climbing harness still hangs from her hips. Wynonna may not always be the most observant person, but she’s not as oblivious as she likes to let everyone think she is.  She can see the way Nicole’s entire body is trembling, the carabiners on her rigging jangling softly with the constant movement.

“Maybe try talking to her,” Wynonna mumbles again, kicking a rock and watching it skid off in the opposite direction.  “What the fuck do I know about this kind of trauma,” she grumbles as she finally takes a step in Nicole’s direction.

A lot more than you might think.

Wynonna rolls her eyes at herself as she approaches Nicole.  

Okay, that’s a fair point.

She hesitates briefly when Nicole doesn’t seem to notice her, then reaches out to lay a cautious hand on her shoulder.  Nicole jumps and spins to face her, hand immediately falling to her sidearm, ready to draw if necessary.  Wynonna stumbles back a step, eyes wide.  She knew Nicole was a little zoned out, butshe wasn’t expecting that.

“Jesus, Wynonna,” Nicole croaks, trying to catch her breath.  “I could have shot you.”

“You could have tried,” Wynonna returns, patting Peacemaker at her hip with a wink, opting for an off-color attempt at humor as she so often does in these situations.  It doesn’t land, of course, and Nicole just continues to stare at her blankly.  “Okay, okay.  Geez.  Sorry.  I didn’t mean to startle you like that.”

“Sorry,” Nicole says, her shoulders sagging a bit.  “I was just…  just…”  She looks back into the trunk of her cruiser, then down at the climbing gear still dangling from her waist, then back up at Wynonna with a frown.  “Fuck,” she sighs.  “I don’t even know what I was doing.  Sorry,” she mumbles again.

Wynonna wonders again how the person with the worst interpersonal skills ended up in this position.

Dolls.  Dolls was always good at calming me down when I was freaking the fuck out.  What would he do to help Nicole right now?

“Take a deep breath, Haughtstuff,” she tries, awkwardly patting her on the shoulder again.  “Let’s start by getting you out of that harness.”

Nicole looks down at it again, but makes no move to start unbuckling it, her hands still hanging uselessly at her sides.

“That’s what she said…  HA!”  Wynonna holds out her hand for a high five,proud of her joke, but still gets no reaction, even after high-fiving herself.

Fuck.  That was a terrible Dolls.  Focus, Earp.

“Snap out of it, Haught,” Wynonna says more firmly, reaching out to place her hands on both of Nicole’s shoulders this time, looking her square in the eye.  “You were a hero today.”  She immediately winces.  “Dammit…  You weren’t supposed to hear me say that part,” she mutters, but straightens her back and raises her chin anyway.  “A goddamn hero.”

Much better.  Very Dolls-like.

“Now I know I must be losing it,” Nicole finally says, the corner of her mouth twitching slightly as she shakes her head.

“Ha, ha.  Very funny,” Wynonna says dryly and punches Nicole in the arm, snorting when she grabs it and whines dramatically.  “Seriously, though,” she continues, gesturing back at Nicole’s gear.  “Finish taking that off so we can relax for a minute, Haughtpants.”

“Yeah…”  Nicole turns back toward the trunk, staring into it again for a few more seconds before finally starting to unbuckle the harness.  “Yeah, I should do that.”

Wynonna leans against the back bumper, watching Nicole step out of the harness and begin to pack away the rest of her climbing gear.  She nods to herself, and for the briefest of moments, she could swear she sees Dolls smiling at her from over Nicole’s shoulder.  But when she blinks, he’s gone again, and all that’s left is a strange whisper on the wind.

Proud of you, Earp.

//

“So this is what you do all day?  Just drive around town and jiggle a bunch ofdoor handles?”  

Nicole completely ignores Wynonna, not even taking her eyes off the road long enough to glance in her direction.

“Because I can think of some things that are a lot more fun to jiggle,” Wynonna says with a wicked smirk, leaning far enough over the console to nudge Nicole in the ribs.  “We could always go and visit Pussy Willows again, like we did that one time.  Maybe one of the girls could pull that rod out of your ass for you.”

Nicole’s hands tighten around the steering wheel, and Wynonna can see the muscles flexing in her jaw.  She immediately wishes she could kick herself.

“Fuck.  Sorry.  I didn’t mean to–”

“It’s fine,” Nicole cuts her off, voice tight.

The massacre.

The massacre that had brought the Cult of Bulshar to the forefront of their investigation.

The massacre that dredged up traumatic memories Nicole had locked away for twenty years.

The massacre that, according to Waverly, had conjured nightmares that haunted Nicole nearly every night since.

That massacre.

Wynonna doesn’t even think Pussy Willows has re-opened in the two and a half months since it happened.  But here she had gone and dragged it all up again, just for a cheap laugh.

God, I’m such a fuckhead sometimes.  Looks like Doc’s assholery is contagious.

Doc.  

There’s another subject she doesn’t want to touch with a ten-foot pole.  She’s batting a thousand today, it would seem.  Desperate for any change of subject she can come up with, Wynonna backtracks to the last relatively safe thing she said.

“So these door checks…” Wynonna mumbles, plucking nervously at a string that hangs from the frayed hole in the knee of her jeans.  “You have to do the same ones over and over again?”

“It’s important work, Wynonna,” Nicole says defensively.  

Wynonna recognizes the look on her face as the one she makes when she’s preparing herself to be made fun of.  A pang of guilt stabs at Wynonna’s gut when she realizes just how often she must badmouth Nicole and the way she does her job.  It’s not fair and she knows it, but sometimes she just can’t help herself.  It’s like a compulsion.  

“I know,” Wynonna agrees, still trying to smooth things over.

“You do?”  Nicole obviously wasn’t expecting that kind of response.  Wynonna glances up to find Nicole looking at her while they’re stopped at a stop sign, eyebrow raised as though she’s expecting there to be more to it than that.

“I mean…  I think I know,” Wynonna falters.  She frowns as she continues to pick at the string on her jeans.  “Okay, actually I don’t know,” she finally admits.  Nicole’s face falls, resigning herself to whatever jab is about to come next.  “Butyou could explain it to me,” Wynonna continues.  “Or whatever,” she adds at the end with a wave of her hand, still trying to play it cool like she always does.

Nicole is silent for a long moment, and Wynonna considers just climbing out of the car while it’s not moving and starting the long walk back to the station by herself.  Surely she can’t fuck that up as much as she’s fucking this up right now.

“You’re really asking?” Nicole finally ventures, and the skepticism is etched deeply on her face, but Wynonna thinks she catches a glimpse of something else in her eyes.

“Nevermind,” Wynonna sighs, deflating a little.  She’s not getting anything right today.  “You don’t have t–”

“No, it’s okay.”  Nicole reaches into the center console and withdraws a metalclipboard.  “I don’t mind,” she says, handing it over to Wynonna before pulling away from the stop sign and turning at the intersection.

Excitement.  That’s what Wynonna had seen rippling beneath Nicole’s skepticism.  And maybe even a little hope.

God, she really does love this job.

“What’s this?” Wynonna asks, looking over the pages of checklists on the clipboard.

“That’s our Daily Patrol Log,” Nicole explains as she continues driving to the next location on the list.  “I sat down with several of the local business owners last year when Nedley first started giving me more leeway and responsibilities.  We worked out a schedule of rotating patrols for their establishments to help with the new visibility directive I was writing, and also to encourage better preventativepolicing.”

“So you really do just…  drive around and jiggle their door handles every day?” Wynonna asks after staring at Nicole for a long moment with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s more than that, Wynonna.”  Nicole rolls her eyes, but continues explaining, her tone much gentler now.  “Increasing our visibility in these areas helps make both the owners and the customers feel safer.  We do a rotating schedule during the day shifts, which mostly just consists of driving by, or checking the locks on the back doors and storage areas – jiggling the handles, as you put it – so that we don’t interrupt their normal business.  People get used to seeing us around, even in the background, and that makes it less likely for a bunch of shitheads to show up and cause trouble.”

She glances over to see if Wynonna is actually paying attention or if she’s already being ignored.  To her surprise, Wynonna is still watching her intently.  

“And for the night shift, we check every business on every shift – so long as time allows; sometimes we’re too busy with active calls and have to just do spot checks when we can – but we still try to do them in different orders so that no one can pinpoint exactly when we’ll be there.”  They pull into the back parking lot of the Crown Surplus, and Nicole shifts in her seat to face Wynonna.  “The night checks are a little more involved.  We get out and walk the perimeter.  Check all of the doors and windows.  Make sure the alarms are engaged.  Clear out any jackholes that are drinking on the premises.  Things like that.”

“And this…”  Wynonna gestures first at the clipboard in her hand, and then out the window at the building they’re parked behind.  “It actually works?”

“Some.  It’s just…”  She tilts her head to the side and Wynonna watches as she searches for the right words.  “I mean, Purgatory is a dangerous place, evenwhen these people want to bury their heads in the sand about what’s going on.  And if I…  If I can get them to trust us, even just a little bit more than they used to, then at least they’re more likely to come to us – to me – if some weird shit starts happening.  You know?  Like if they have someone that they think might actually believe them instead of just telling them they’re crazy…”

Nicole sighs and turns to stare out the window, the sudden silence in the car covering them like a thick blanket until it’s almost smothering.

“I don’t know,” she finally says, still looking out the window.  “Maybe it’s stupid.  Just wishful thinking on my part.”

“It’s not,” Wynonna says immediately, reaching out to lay a hand on Nicole’s forearm.  She turns back to look at Wynonna, clearly surprised by the gesture.  “It’s not stupid.”

“It’s not?”  Nicole doesn’t sound convinced.

“No.  It’s important,” Wynonna says quietly, squeezing Nicole’s arm gently.  “What you’re doing for these people.  Whether they recognize it or not.”

It’s in that moment that Wynonna realizes she’s talking about herself, too, and clears her throat uncomfortably as she jerks her hand back away from Nicole’s arm.

“You came up with all of this on your own?” she asks, settling back into her seat and plucking at the string on her jeans again.  She smirks to herself when she sees Nicole’s face immediately begin to flush.

Some things never change.

“Yeah, I uh…” Nicole mumbles, rubbing at the back of her neck.  “I guess I did.  I ran it all by Nedley after I’d written it up, before I met with the business owners. But, umm…”  She gives a dismissive half-shrug.  “I guess I just wanted to help any way I could.”

Wynonna doesn’t say anything, but she does give a slight nod that causes Nicole to duck her head shyly.  They sit in an awkward silence for a long moment before Wynonna hands the clipboard back to Nicole.

“So I guess we gotta g–”

“Haught,” Ruthie’s voice interrupts as the radio crackles to life between them.  “Got Ranger Jett on the line for you.  Sounds urgent.”

“10-4, Ruthie,” Nicole answers after grabbing the console mic.  “Go ahead and patch him through.”

“10-4”

There’s a short beep followed by a series of clicks before a new voice comes through, slightly staticky from the relayed connection.

“Hello?  Sheriff Haught?”

“Hey, Robin.  Not officially the Sheriff yet,” Nicole says with a slight grin, “but what’s up?”

“It’s a little girl, Sheriff,” he continues, ignoring Nicole’s playful comment.  “She’smissing.”

//

“I can’t, Wynonna.  I’m still on shift.”

“Technically, your shift ended two hours ago.”  Nicole eyes her carefully, and Wynonna shrugs.  “Just sayin’.”  She gives the silver flask a jiggle where she’s still holding it out between them.

She had done her best to channel Dolls earlier when she’d needed to snap Nicole out of her stupor.  But recognizing the haunted look in her eyes now, Wynonna decides it’s time for some good old-fashioned Earp tactics.

Whiskey.

It’s never let her down before.

Okay, maybe it has…  but who’s counting?  That’s not important at the moment.  What’s important is that Nicole is warring with a darkness right now, and sometimes you just need a little fire in your belly to hold it at bay for a little whilelonger.

Or at least until Waverly can get here and fix things the right way.

She watches the gears turn in Nicole’s head, like she’s weighing a heavy decision, and is more than a little surprised when Nicole reaches out to take the flask from her.  She raises an eyebrow, but Nicole levels a look at her that practically dares her to say something about it when she raises the flask to her lips and downs several large gulps without so much as flinching.

“Well, alright then.”  Wynonna takes the flask when Nicole hands it back, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.  It’s more than half empty.  Wynonna gives Nicole an impressed look, raising the flask in a mock toast.  “Cheers, Haughtshot,” she says before downing the rest of it.

No way she’s gonna let an Earp be outdone when it comes to drinking.  Especially not by Five-O.  Though, to be completely fair, Wynonna has always been impressed with Nicole’s constitution.  It takes a lot to get her drunk, and even then, she still continues to hold her own.  She’s proven that over and over again.

Drinking whiskey that night at the station a year and a half ago, back when times were simpler.  Nicole had matched her swig for swig, but the minute they’d gotten sucked into an actual case down in the morgue, she’d sobered up instantly.  That’s not easy to do, and Wynonna knows it.

Just a handful of months later, covering for Wynonna while staking out Jonas by drinking for both of them just to keep the baby safe.  She’d definitely gotten drunker that time around, but no so much so that she couldn’t still shoot out a fuse box from across the room with a .380 Walther PPK she’d pulled out of her sock, and that’s saying something, given their long history of questionable accuracy.

And just a couple of days ago in that Revenant bar.  Nicole had been drunk off her ass by the end of that disaster, but even though she would never admit it out loud, Wynonna knows that Nicole is the one that technically won that drinking contest fair and square.  The Revenant had lost when he’d hurled everything back up.  And Wynonna…  Well, Wynonna had been cheating the entire time.  And that leaves Nicole.  Who matched Wynonna and the Rev drink for drink, kept all of it down, and then, even though she was unsteady on her feet, she still managed to help Wynonna kick some ass in the woods.

If there’s one thing Wynonna can respect, it’s the ability to hold your liquor.  And Nicole keeps proving over and over that she can match pace with an Earp.  So that’s pretty solid in Wynonna’s book.

She looks back at Nicole, whose cheeks are now flushed from the healthy dose of whiskey.  Tucking the empty flask back into the inside pocket of her leather jacket, she climbs up onto the trunk of Nicole’s cruiser.  Nicole starts to balk, but Wynonna ignores her, patting the space beside her.

“C’mon, Haught.  We got a little time before your unicorn gets here.  Take a load off.”

“Waverly’s coming?”  That’s the first sign of hope she’s seen in Nicole since they originally got the call from Robin.

“She’s already on her way.”

Nicole lets out a weary sigh, but climbs up next to Wynonna without protest, leaning back on her hands as her feet find purchase on the bumper.  She looks up at the moon, already visible in the dimming twilight, and Wynonna can see the deep worry lines etched across her brow and at her mouth.  For a fleeting moment, she looks far older than her twenty-seven years would suggest.

Wynonna knows a little bit about that.  She’s twenty-eight now, but sometimes she feels like she’s already been dragged through a hundred lifetimes full of griefand guilt and loss.

“Hey, it’s okay to relax for a minute.”  She reaches over and pats Nicole’s knee.  “Today was a win, Nicole.”  

She’s quiet for a long moment, before whispering something so softly that Wynonna can barely make it out over the rustling leaves in the nearby trees.

“Sometimes it’s hard to tell in this town.”

Ain’t that the goddamn truth.

//

“We’ve been out here for hours, Nicole.  Maybe we sho–”

“We’re not giving up, Wynonna!”

Nicole stomps off through the trees, and Wynonna lets her go.  

It’s suspicious that another kid has already gone missing in the woods again, especially so soon after what they went through with the missing kids on Christmas just barely a week ago.  She and Charlie had tracked them down andwiped out one of Bulshar’s evil beekeeper hives, rescuing Robin and severalothers in the process.  Surely he hasn’t already rebuilt and started over again…

No, something about this one feels different, she thinks as she watches Nicole search for tracks in the underbrush up ahead, weighed down by far more than just the pack full of gear slung over her shoulders.  Her phone buzzes in her pocket before she has time to think any more about that.

Angelpants:  Are you still with Nicole?  She’s not answering her phone.

Bacon Donut:  we’re on a call

Angelpants:  Everything okay?

Bacon Donut:  little girl missing in the woods

Angelpants:  Bulshar???

Bacon Donut:  nah peacemaker isn’t giving me any tingly feelings in my pants

Angelpants:  WYNONNA

Bacon Donut:  i think she just got lost

Bacon Donut:  mom lost track of her by the playground whilechasing after toddler

Angelpants:  Is Nicole okay?

Bacon Donut:  she’s in full sheriff mode right now

Angelpants:  You guys need anything?

Bacon Donut:  the whole cavalry is out here

Bacon Donut:  i think we’re good

Bacon Donut:  you just work on that research babygirl

Angelpants:  Okay…  But keep me posted?

Bacon Donut:  10-4

Angelpants:  You really have been spending a lot of time with Nicole lately.  lol

Bacon Donut:  shut it shortstack

Angelpants:  Be careful, okay?

Bacon Donut:  you got it boss

Wynonna slides her phone back in her pocket and does her best to catch up to Nicole again.  Nicole continues to ignore her, and Wynonna approaches cautiously.

“Hey…”  She hesitates when Nicole freezes in place, but doesn’t turn around.  “Charlie has the entire fire department out here, and Robin called in all of the other Park Rangers.  I wasn’t suggesting that everyone give up, Haught.  I was just wondering if we shouldn’t leave it to the Search & Rescue boys, since that’s what they do.”

“I’m Search & Rescue, Wynonna!” Nicole snaps as she finally spins to face Wynonna.  She points at one of the patches on the pack she’s carrying.  “I got certified in it at the Academy, because I never wanted another little girl to be stuck in the woods by herself with no one to come looking for her.”

Oh.

Oh.

Wynonna suddenly understands everything.

That explains a lot.

She opens her mouth to say something – anything – but it seems her brain has forgotten how to string two words together right now.

“It’s going to be dark soon, Wynonna,” Nicole continues, much quieter this time.  Her eyes are hollow and she’s white as a ghost.  Even paler than usual.  “It’s going to be dark, and she’ll be out here all alone, cold and scared, and…  and…” Nicole swallows hard around the lump that Wynonna can hear is stuck inher throat.  “What if it had been Waverly?” she pleads, desperate for Wynonna to stay out here with her.

“Okay,” Wynonna says, finally finding her words again.  She reaches out and catches the trembling hand that Nicole’s been waving around.  “Okay, Nicole.  We’ll keep looking for her.”

They hear the muffled calls of the other groups echoing through the forest as they continue their search.  Nicole was right: the sun is beginning to set, and the beautiful colors painted across the sky bring a sharper chill in the air with them.  They’re running out of time.

Wynonna suddenly feels an odd weightless sensation, and then her stomach is in her throat as she starts to tumble forward.  Before she connects with anything, though, she’s being yanked backward by her collar, until she’s lying on her back,staring up at the trees.

One red-headed tree in particular.

“You’ve gotta watch where you’re going, Earp,” Nicole says sternly, hands on her hips as she looks down at Wynonna.  “I don’t have time to be saving your ass,too.”

“Thanks, Haught,” Wynonna manages to croak.  “I didn’t even se–”

“Shhhhh…” Nicole whispers harshly.  “Did you hear that?”

Wynonna frowns, straining her ears in the eerie silence of the forest around them.  Just as she’s about to accuse Nicole of losing her mind, she hears it, too.  It’s faint, almost as though they’d imagined it, but it’s there.

“Hello…?  Is somebody there?”

Nicole trembles slightly as she pulls Wynonna up from the ground.

“This is the Sheriff’s Department!” she yells, loudly enough to make Wynonna wince.  “Call out if you can hear me!”

They both wait, staring at each other with wide eyes.

“HELP!  WE’RE DOWN HERE!  HELP, PLEASE!”

“We?” they mouth in unison, still frozen in place for half a second longer.

“Don’t move!  We’re on our way!” Nicole finally yells back as she turns and sprints in the direction of the voice, along the edge of the ridge that Wynonna had nearly tumbled over.  

Wynonna does her best to keep up with Nicole in the waning light, struggling to stay upright in the wake of the sure-footed Sheriff.  It’s painfully obvious that Nicole is far more comfortable in this terrain than Wynonna will ever be.

They finally begin to slow their approach when they start to hear barking mixed in with the small voice.  That must be the ‘we’ the little girl was referring to.

“We’re almost there, Ashley!” Nicole calls out again as she begins looking around the new area.  “Can you tell me where you are?”

“I fell,” the little girl cries in response.  “I can’t move my leg!”  Her answer is accompanied by another round of barks and frantic whines.  “And Hugo’sdown here, too,” she adds.

Nicole drops to her belly in the dirt and the leaves and creeps closer to the stony ledge.  Wynonna crouches and carefully peers over Nicole’s shoulder to find asheer rock face, wrought with stray branches and roots and moss-covered rockssticking out at odd angles.  Wynonna knows from experience now just how easy it would be to miss a step if you weren’t looking and suddenly find yourself twenty feet below with nowhere to go.

There, in a muddy patch of snow and leaves tucked away in the shadows below the ledge, they can see a puffy pink coat with a matching set of snow boots – one leg sticking out at an odd angle – and a large dog wrapped around a shivering body.

“Hi, Ashley.  I’m Officer Nicole.”

“Hi, Nicole,” Ashley answers weakly.

“Don’t move,” Nicole says again, gentler this time.  “I’m coming down to get you, okay?”

“Okay,” the little girl sniffles.  “Hurry.  I’m sca–  I mean, I think Hugo is scared.”

“Don’t be scared, Hugo,” Nicole says, nodding seriously at the dog.  “Everything’s gonna be okay now.”

Hugo barks once – a muted sort of woof – and Ashley clutches a little tighter at his fur.

“He says he’ll try to be brave.”

“That’s very good, Ashley.”  Nicole pushes up onto her hands and knees.  “You and Hugo just need to be brave a little longer while I get my rope ready, and then I’ll be down to get you, okay?”

“Okay…”

“You can talk to my friend Wynonna here while I’m working.”  Nicole nudges Wynonna a little closer to the edge, despite the what the fuck look she levels in Nicole’s direction.  “Just talk to her, Wynonna,” Nicole says so that only Wynonna can hear her.  “So she knows we’re still here and she’s not alone anymore.”

“Uh…  hi,” Wynonna says awkwardly, sticking her head over the ledge and waving.  She turns to see Nicole unpacking her gear, ratcheting one end of her rope to a nearby tree that looks sturdy enough to serve as an anchor.  “I’m Wynonna…”

“Duh,” Ashley says, giggling a little in spite of herself.  “Officer Nicole already said that.”

“Officer Nicole says a lot of things,” Wynonna grumbles loudly, sticking her tongue out dramatically at Nicole behind her back.  Ashley giggles again, and Hugo thumps his tail against the leaves.  “My little sister would love that pink coat of yours,” Wynonna adds after a moment, unsure of what else to say.

“You have a little sister?”

“Uh huh.  Her name is Waverly.”

“Walervy?”

“Eh… Close enough, kid,” Wynonna snorts.  “She loves pink stuff and rainbows and unicorns.”

“I have a unicorn!”  There’s less sniffling in Ashley’s voice now, replaced by excitement instead.

“So does my sister!” Wynonna laughs, especially when hearing Nicole groan behind her.

“His name is Sparkle!”

“His name…  is Sparkle…”  Wynonna can barely contain herself.  “That’s–”

“Wynonna,” Nicole hisses quietly.  “Be nice.”

“–a great name!” Wynonna finishes.

“What did your sister name her unicorn?” Ashley calls up again after a moment.

“Officer Nicole,” Wynonna giggles, and then yelps when Nicole kicks her right in the ass with her muddy boot.

“What?” Ashley asks, confused.

“Ummm...  I said Tootsie Roll!” Wynonna calls back a little louder this time, still trying to stifle a giggle.

“Like the candy?”

“Yep,” Wynonna answers, popping the p loudly.  “Just like that.”

“That’s kinda weird…” Ashley says, thinking about it for a moment.  “But I like it!”

“Yeah, that’s kind of what I thought, too,” Wynonna says, glancing back over her shoulder and catching the hint of a smile on Nicole’s face, just barely hidden behind the curtain of her hair.

“Okay, Ashley,” Nicole says, stepping back up to the ledge.  “I’m coming down to get you now.  All I need you to do is just stay still, okay?  Don’t try to move until Iget there.”

“Okay,” Ashley answers, sounding nervous again.

“You need to hang on to this for me,” Nicole tells Wynonna, handing her a portion of the rope after making sure it’s secured through her climbing harness.  “Getting down there shouldn’t be too difficult, but I’ll need your help when I’m climbing back up with her.”

“What?” Wynonna balks, trying to back away.  “I don’t know anything about this shit.  What if I fuck it up?”  She can’t handle this kind of responsibility right now.

“Wynonna, focus,” Nicole says sharply, grabbing her by the shoulder.  “Look.”  She points over to the tree.  “I’m rigged up to a pulley system.  All I need you to do is keep this part tight.  When I create slack from climbing, just keep pulling it tight, okay?  It will keep me from falling backward if I lose my footing with her inmy arms.”

Wynonna doesn’t understand how any of this climbing shit works, but she thinks she can manage at least that much.

“Okay,” she finally says, still a little unsure.  “Hey, wait…” she adds when Nicole starts to back up toward the ledge.  “Do you have our coordinates or whatever?  I was just gonna shoot of a quick text to Charlie with our location so he can send some of the EMS boys this way.”

Nicole pulls out her phone and frowns at the missed calls and texts from Waverly.

“It’s okay,” Wynonna says quickly when she sees Nicole’s face.  “I texted her a while ago to let her know we were on a call.”

“Thanks…” Nicole says softly.  “I didn’t mean to ignore her.  I just…”

“Had a lot on your mind?”

“Yeah,” Nicole answers sheepishly, and then clears her throat a couple of times.  “Here’s the coordinates,” she says, handing Wynonna her phone with the GPS app open.

“Okay, got it,” Wynonna says after typing a few things into a text message.  “Now go and save the day, Sheriff,” she says, warmly and with no hint of sarcasm, as she hands Nicole’s phone back to her.

Nicole rappels down the rock face with ease, and Wynonna watches as she pulls out the emergency med kit from her pack and places a cervical collar around Ashley’s neck to stabilize her c-spine.  It’s not ideal to be moving someone like this without a full backboard, but sometimes the circumstances of these search and rescue situations don’t always provide the best conditions.  At least she’d been sitting up the entire time she’d been talking to them.  That has to count for something.  Hopefully.

After placing a makeshift splint on Ashley’s leg, Nicole begins to prepare her for transport.  She carefully works another harness up over Ashley’s legs and hips, and then secures it to her own with another short section of rope and somecarabiners.  Then she slips Ashley’s hands through a set of loops that almost look like handcuffs made of rope, explaining that they will help her hold on to Nicole while she’s climbing back up.

Ducking her head to put it through Ashley’s arms so they’re around her neck, Nicole scoops her up and holds her close as she moves back to the rocks and slowly begins her ascent.  Wynonna is diligent in keeping the slack out of the rope, digging her heels into the soft earth to help her hold her ground.  It’s much slower going, and they’re nearly out of light now, but soon enough, Nicole’s head pops up over the ledge and Wynonna kneels down to take Ashley from her and get her back on solid ground.

“Can you tell us what happened, Ashley?”  Nicole asks as she takes off her jacket and drapes it around Ashley’s shoulders.  Wynonna is immediately reminded of the photo she’d recently seen of a young Nicole wearing Nedley’s coat on the morning he’d found her downstream from the massacre.  

“We were playing in the park with Mama and Matthew,” Ashley starts, sniffling again.  “Matthew kept tryin’a run away, and Mama had to chase after him.  But then Hugo saw a squirrel and tried to catch it and we just kept runnin’ and then we were in the woods and there were so many trees and we got lost and then I fell and… and…”  Anything else she wanted to say gets lost in the heaving sob that wracks her entire body.

“Shhh…  It’s okay,” Nicole soothes, wrapping her arms around the little girl.  She tucks her face securely into Nicole’s shoulder, and Nicole strokes her hair gently. “It’s okay.  You’re safe now.  You’re safe.”

“What about Hugo,” Ashley eventually hiccups, once she’s caught her breath again.  “You can’t just leave him down there!”

Wynonna and Nicole peer over the ledge, watching Hugo prance and pace along the edge of the rock face, whining and searching for his human.

“Okay,” Nicole says after a brief moment of deliberation.  “You stay here with Wynonna, and I’ll go and get Hugo.”

“How in the fu–  …the f–”  Wynonna’s eyes slide over toward Ashley.  “The eff are you gonna do that?”

“Ummm…”  Nicole thinks for a moment, looking at everything that’s spread out in front of her.  “I think I have an idea.”  She dumps everything out of her pack, until it’s completely empty, and holds it up.  She eyes it for a minute, and then shrugs at Wynonna.  “Hopefully this will work…”

“Oh, my god,” Wynonna groans, resting her head in her hand.  She knows exactly what Nicole is going to do.

Nicole slings the empty pack back over her shoulders and starts toward the ledge again, but pauses when Ashley reaches out and takes her face in her little hands.

“Officer Nicole,” she says very seriously.  “You have to be very careful with him.  Mama says he’s an old man now.”

“I’ll be very careful with him,” Nicole answers, her voice cracking a little.  “I promise.”

Wynonna definitely doesn’t have a lump in her throat.  Nope.  Absolutely not.

They begin the process all over again, and Nicole sits with Hugo for a few minutes at the bottom so that he’ll calm down and hopefully trust her enough for what needs to happen next.  After a bit of coaxing and a couple of false starts, she finally manages to get the aging German shepherd into her giant backpack, with just his head sticking out so that he can watch over her shoulder.  He doesn’t seem particularly pleased about this development, but he lets her secure the zipper and lock it in place so he can’t fall out on the way back up.  It will have to do.

She hoists the pack back up onto her shoulders and starts climbing the wall again, Wynonna dutifully working her end of the rope.  It doesn’t take quite as long as it did when Nicole was bringing Ashley up since she has the use of both arms, but Wynonna can tell she’s feeling pretty exhausted by the time she reaches the top.

Thankfully, Charlie and the boys have arrived by then, already tending to Ashley while Nicole frees Hugo from his port-a-puppy status.  He barks a few times and then runs in an impressive amount of circles before finally jumping up on the back of the ATV and settling in next to Ashley, refusing to leave her side again.

They all set out back toward the trailhead where Ashley’s family is waiting for them, leaving Wynonna and Nicole standing alone in the silence of the dusk-covered woods.

“That was some Haught shit back there, Officer Nicole,” Wynonna says after a few minutes.  She pats Nicole on the back when she gets no response.

Nicole says nothing, merely swaying on her feet until she has to reach out and lean against one of the nearby trees for support.  

Then she promptly doubles over and vomits all over her boots.

“Okay, even I didn’t see that coming…” Wynonna says, unsure of how to react.

Nicole still doesn’t say anything, heaving three more times before she’s apparently emptied her entire stomach out into the muddy snow.  When she finally stands back up, Wynonna takes her by the elbow and starts leading her back the way they came.

“Alright, Red.  Let’s get you back to the land of the living.”

//

“Maybe try talking to her.”

Waverly’s voice is still bouncing around in Wynonna’s head as she watches Nicole stare out into the darkness, shivering slightly despite having her jacket back after Charlie had replaced it with a proper blanket.  She reaches out and places a hand on Nicole’s knee.

“I shouldn’t have called you ‘Deputy Dipshit’ the other day.”  Nicole immediately stiffens beside Wynonna.  That definitely touched a nerve.  She curses herself and starts to change the subject, but she sees Waverly glaring at her with her arms crossed, telling her to talk to her about it, so instead, she pushes on.  “I was only fucking with you,” she hastens to justify, “but I still shouldn’t have gonethere.  It was a shitty thing to say, and you didn’t deserve it.”

“Maybe I did,” Nicole sighs, visibly deflating.  “Seems like everyone has that opinion these days.”

“I don’t,” Wynonna says immediately.  “Nedley doesn’t.”

“Right,” Nicole scoffs.  “You drag my ass about my job every chance you get.  And Bunny Loblaw…”  Nicole swallows had and looks away again.

“Bunny Nut Cheerios can choke on her pearls, for all I care,” Wynonna seethes.  “And me…” Wynonna starts, a little more sheepishly.  “Well, since when do you listen to a word I say, anyway?”

Nicole just raises an eyebrow at her.

“Okay, look.  You know I don’t have the best track record with cops.  Even Nedley, from before I came back.  But you’re…”  Wynonna waves her hand around awkwardly.  “…Different.”

“Different,” Nicole repeats in a deadpan voice.

“Yes.  Different, okay?”  Wynonna kicks her foot on the bumper of the cruiser while she tries to figure out what to say next.  “Like.  Even before you kneweverything, you still tried to look out for me and my sister.  And then you took a bullet for her.   And you believe me when I tell you something’s important, even if I can’t always explain it right then.  And…  and you didn’t just automatically assume I was crazy and needed to be locked up again.”  

That last part comes out much quieter than the rest of it.  Nicole turns to fully face Wynonna and opens her mouth to respond, but Wynonna holds up a hand to stop her.

“I’m not very good at this shit, but I’m trying to say something important here.  Let me get it out.”  Nicole just nods silently, and Wynonna continues.  “And then my sister fell for you, and that scared me.  Because I thought you were just going to take her away from me.  But you didn’t, and you stayed, and she stayed, and…  You tell me you love her, and then you told me you love me, too, and…  and…”  Wynonna sighs and buries her head in her hands.  “Look, I’m just sayin’,” she says, popping her head back up again.  “I know we made up and called a truce the other night back at the station, but I still shouldn’t have said that.  You didn’t deserve it, okay?”

“Okay…”  

There’s a lot to unpack there, but Nicole is apparently willing to just let it go for now.  Thankfully.

“What if I can’t do this, Wynonna?” Nicole asks instead after a few moments of silence.  “What if I’m not cut out to be the Sheriff?”

“No way,” Wynonna snorts.  “That’s not possible.”  Nicole shrugs a little helplessly at her.  “Listen, Haughtdog.  Nedley has been talking about you non-stop since you started working for him a year and a half ago.  That man believes in you more than he believes in Willie Nelson.  And I told him a month ago – before any of this other shit started happening – that you were ready to take his place whenever he was ready to let you.  That you had the kind of fight in you that this town needs right now.”

“You…  you did?”  Nicole seems genuinely surprised by this.

“I did,” Wynonna nods.  “And I know for a fact that you heard every word I said to ol’ Bun Bun after we finished saving her ass.  Naughty Haughty and your eavesdropping.”  Wynonna gives an approving waggle of her eyebrows and Nicole shoves her playfully in the shoulder.  “But the truth is, Nicole…  You’re the best goddamn cop this town has ever seen.  Nedley is a good man, and he’s done the best he can with trying to balance the protection and the cover-up for the past thirty years.  But you’re…  Well, like I said.  You’re different.  You’ve got your eyes wide open going into this, and you’re everything this godforsaken town needs right now.”

Nicole stares down at her hands, suddenly very interested in the stitching on her gloves.

“I mean, look at how much of a difference you’ve already made just with something as simple as your handle-jiggling thingy.  The people trust you.  They’re glad to see you coming, and that’s important in a town like this.”

“Maybe so…”  Nicole glances back up at Wynonna.  “Thanks, Earp.”

“For what?” Wynonna asks pointedly.  “If you ever tell a living soul I said any ofthat, I’ll deny it to my grave.”

Nicole snorts and shakes her head.

“Fair enough.”

“Now, uh…”  Wynonna wipes the palms of her hands nervously on her jeans.  Her head is screaming at her to just leave it at that, counting this conversation as a win.  But her heart remembers the way Nicole had looked in the woods, and how haunted she’d been when they’d gotten back to the parking lot of theTrailhead.  She feels Waverly coaxing her to continue.  “Do you, uh…  want to talk about what’s really bothering you?”

Nicole instantly shrinks back into herself, looking back up at the darkened sky.  Wynonna could kick herself for being such a bull in the china closet, but she’s really trying here.  That’s got to count for something.

“How much do you remember from that night?” she asks tentatively.

“Not a lot,” Nicole mumbles.  “Just flashes.  That asshole in black leather.  Screams.  Blood.  Floating in the canoe.  Freezing so badly I thought I was turning to ice.”

“That… sounds like a lot to me,” Wynonna says.  “And the little girl today?”

“I knew how scared she would be.  Alone.  In the dark.  In these woods…”  A tear trickles down Nicole’s cheek.  “It put me right back there again.”  She wipes discreetly at her face, and Wynonna chooses not to say anything about it.

“Waverly said you’ve been having nightmares about it?”

“She told you about that?”  Nicole tries to sound mad, but Wynonna recognizes the truth in her voice: embarrassment and shame.

“She tells me a lot of things,” Wynonna says gently.  “Do you… want to talk about them?”

“What would you know about it?” Nicole huffs angrily, instantly starting to throw up a wall between them.  Wynonna isn’t having any of it.  Not this time.

“About what, Nicole?” She cuts in firmly.  “About something so traumatic from your childhood that it still haunts you twenty years later?  About darkness and death that twists you up so badly you end up in the loony bin for it?  About closing your eyes and seeing every person that’s ever died because you failed them etched across your eyelids until you can’t tell what’s real in the moment and what’s only a memory in a dream?”

Nicole stares at Wynonna, wide-eyed and mouth gaping open.  Wynonna just sits patiently, waiting for Nicole to process everything she just said.

It takes a minute.

“S-sorry…” Nicole eventually stutters.  “I wasn’t thinking.  I didn’t…  I…  S-sorry…”

“You don’t need to apologize, Nicole.”  Wynonna reaches out and takes one of Nicole’s hands.  “I was just trying to point out that maybe I get it a little more than you might think.  If you ever…  you know…”  She lets go of Nicole’s hand and waves it awkwardly in the air.  “…Needed someone.  To talk to, I mean.”

“Waverly’s so good.  She’s always there for me through the nightmares.”  Nicole sighs, looking back down at her hands.  “But sometimes I feel like I’mdrowning in it.  Like I’m going to drown both of us, and I can’t even see what it is that’s dragging me under.”  She wipes at her face again, more openly this time.

“Yeah, I get that,” Wynonna admits.  “Why do you think I left for so long?”

“I’m not going to leave her, Wynonna!” Nicole says sharply, sitting up straight again with her brow furrowed.

“I know,” Wynonna defends, throwing her hands up between them.  “I know.  That’s not what I meant.  It’s…  I just…  You’re a lot stronger than me, Haught.  I was too weak.  I had to leave because I couldn’t handle it.  I couldn’t handle it myself, and I sure as fuck couldn’t hand dragging Waverly down with me.”

“Am I?” Nicole asks quietly.

“Are you what?”  Wynonna frowns, confused.

“Dragging her down?  Would she be better off without my baggage?”  Wynonna doesn’t think she’s ever seen Nicole look so broken before.

“No,” she says firmly.  “God, no.  You’re the one that’s given that girl wings,Nicole.” 

“I don’t know about that,” Nicole sniffles, smiling slightly despite herself.  “Seems like this Julian dude probably had more to do with that than me.”

Wynonna can’t help but snort.

“Can’t believe Mama bagged herself a fucking angel.”  She barks out a laugh, but then her tone turns darker.  “You deserve your angel far more than she ever did.”

This time it’s Nicole that reaches out and takes Wynonna’s hand.

“Hey.”  She squeezes gently until Wynonna meets her eye.  “We’ll figure this out together, okay?  All of us.”

Wynonna searches Nicole’s eyes and finds nothing but genuine compassion there.  She wants to say something – feels like she should – but she can’t seem to find the right words, so she just nods her acknowledgement.  

Then, as if someone else is controlling her body, she reaches out and wraps her arms around Nicole, pulling her in close.  Nicole feels stiff at first, like she’s notsure what’s happening, but then she relaxes into the embrace, reaching aroundto close her own arms around Wynonna’s shoulders.

They stay like that for several long moments, losing track of the number of heartbeats, before Wynonna pulls back again, looking a little flustered with herself.

“What, uh…  What was that for?” Nicole asks through a lopsided smile.

Wynonna shrugs as casually as she can manage.

“You just looked like you really needed a hug.”

Just then, a pair of headlights comes sweeping into the parking lot, eventually coming to rest on the trunk of Nicole’s squad car, lighting both of them up in the sudden brightness.  The engine cuts out and they’re left with visions of a red jeep swimming behind the sunspots now floating in their eyes.

“Speak of the devil…” Wynonna says, wiping the salty tracks from her own face now.  “Or angel, I suppose,” she adds, nudging Nicole in her ribs with her elbow.  

They both share a laugh as they hop down from the trunk, wiping their hands on their pants and feeling all of the joints in their body crack as they stretch out their weary limbs.  Waverly approaches them slowly, eyebrow raised.

“Am I interrupting something?” she asks, her tone suspicious.

“Nope,” Wynonna hurries to say.  “Not a thing, Babygirl.  We’ve just been waiting on you.”

Waverly eyes Nicole, who just nods along innocently.  

“Riiiight…”

Before she can say anymore, Nicole has closed the distance between them, sweeping Waverly into her arms.  She kisses her deeply, far more than just a quick peck on the lips, before finally pulling back to nuzzle their noses together and eventually letting her forehead rest against Waverly’s.

Wynonna would normally clear her throat or make gagging noises or harass them in some other way, but instead, this time she quietly watches.  Really watches.

Watches the way Nicole seems to draw strength from the simple fact that Waverly is near.  Watches the way Waverly clutches at Nicole’s jacket, keeping her close and present in the moment and steady.  Watches them whisper softly to each other and the way Nicole’s body instinctively relaxes at Waverly’s touch.  Watches the way they both seem to be trying to protect each other at the same time.

She’d meant it before when she admitted to Nicole that she was scared when Waverly fell in love with her.  Scared that Nicole would take her away.  That Waverly would leave her.  But as she watches them now, she doesn’t feel scared anymore.  They were made for each other.  They deserve each other.  And there’s no way she can be jealous of that.  She couldn’t ask for anyone betterto be taking care of her baby sister, and for all of the blustery sarcasm shethrows Nicole’s way, she’s also glad that she has someone like Waverly to takecare of her, too.

There’s been a lot of reevaluating lately.  About what family truly means.  Is it just about blood?  Are they destined to be bound to those who are related to them simply because they share some common DNA?  All Wynonna’s blood brings is a curse of failure and leaving and death.  Generations of Earps had fallen to forces outside their control.  Daddy and Willa had betrayed their family.  Mama had bailed…  twice.  Is that really what Wynonna wants her family to be?

And what about the family you choose for yourself?  She’s not doing much better in that department, either.  She had to kill Shorty with her own two hands.  Dollsleft her to all of this alone, even though it wasn’t the same way Mama had left.  And Doc…  Doc had chosen to betray her, to become the very thing they hunted, all because he couldn’t deal with a little manpain.  

She has Alice, and will always love her.  But god knows when the next time she’ll get to see her will be.  If she ever gets to see her again at all.  Just another piece of family that’s been ripped away from her.

Maybe some things just aren’t in the cards for the heir to a curse that she never asked for.

But then she looks over at Waverly and Nicole again.  Remembers Waverly telling her that she loves her.  Remembers Nicole telling her that she kind of loves her, too.  Remembers Nicole telling her ‘I got you, Earp,’ and actually meaning it.  Remembers Waverly telling her ‘I’m here for you, now and forever,’ and staying with her even though she could have run so many times.

Something clenches in Wynonna’s chest, and she nearly forgets how to breathe.  She does have a family.  And it’s right here in front of her.  Just the three of them against the world.  Her sister, and…  her sister’s girlfriend?  Her…  Nicole?  Her…  best friend.  The words feel foreign in her mind.  She’s never had a best friend before.  Not really.  But she looks back over everything she and Nicole have been through, and she thinks maybe…  maybe this is what that is supposed to feel like.  

Besides.  Something tells her that at some point, she’ll eventually have to start calling Nicole her sister, too.

She doesn’t think that would be such a bad thing.

“You okay?” she hears Waverly asking, and she realizes that both Waverly and Nicole staring at her with raised eyebrows.

Fuck.  Get your shit together, Earp.

“Uh, yeah…”  She clears her throat a couple of times and gives her patented thumbs up.  “All good.  You guys ready to get out of here?” she asks, hoping to distract them.

“Please,” Nicole answers wearily.

“Grab your bag and toss me your keys, Babygirl.  I’ll drive your Jeep home so you can ride with Haughtstuff.”

“You sure?” Waverly asks, her eyes lighting up.

“Of course.  Go take care of your girl,” she says, walking over to kiss the side of Waverly’s head as she takes the keys out of her hand.

“Nicole said she’s starving.  We were gonna stop by Mama Lou’s.”  Waverly’s voice is muffled as she digs through the cab of the Jeep for her bag and her purse.  “You wanna join us before you head home?” she asks when her head pops back out again.

Wynonna glances over at Nicole, not wanting to intrude on their time together, but Nicole nods at her with a warm smile.

“Sounds good,” she admits.  “I could murder a stack of pancakes.”

“We’ll follow you there,” Nicole says as she watches Waverly settle into the passenger seat of her squad car.

Wynonna nods and turns to climb into the Jeep, but stops when she feels a hand on her arm.

“Wynonna…”  Nicole’s mouth opens and closes a couple of times like a fish out of water as she tries to find the words to say.  “Thanks,” she finally settles on.  “I, uh…  I don’t think I could have made it through today without you.”

Wynonna smiles genuinely, no trace of sarcasm or teasing.  Then she shrugs like it’s the easiest thing in the world to say.

“You’re family, Nicole.”

[afictionaladventure16]

Thinking Out Loud (Tom Holland x Downey!Reader)

Part 6

Thinking Out Loud Masterlist

Previously on Thinking Out Loud...

Warnings: Cuteness

Word Count: 1,147

A/N: It’s been a while... Life has been hectic so please have patience with me on updates! Also, I had a small writers block but there will be a time skip for the next chapter.... Annnyywaayy enjoy! 

You were exhausted. No. Scratch that. More than exhausted. You were ready to drop. The scenes you had done that day worn you out, you had never had to endure such stunts before and although you had trained for them, you weren’t expecting for it to be this difficult.

All you wanted to do was relax, take a nice soothing bath, get into some comfy clothes and maybe sit on the couch while watching an old King Kong movie. You smiled at the thought as you walked into your room, quickly taking notice of the nice dress that was laid on your bed. You couldn’t relax. Tonight is supposed to be your first date with Tom. You just wanted to cry, you wanted to go on this date but you were so tired.

You sighed as you picked up the dress, “Something wrong, darling?” You quickly turned around to see Tom standing at the doorway.

You plastered a smile and shook your head, “it’s nothing, Tom,” you said softly as you turned your attention back to the dress, placing it back on the bed.

Tom watched your body language, the way your smile quickly faded when you turned your attention to the dress, it worried him. “Are you having second thoughts?” he asked shyly.

“Second thoughts? No!” You quickly said. You walked over to Tom who was looking down, you lifted his head with your hand so he would look at you, “I’m not having second thoughts at all, I promise!”

“Then what is it? I can tell by your body language that you clearly are-”

“Tired,” you interrupted, “I’m fucking exhausted.” Tom softly rubbed circles on your back, “all that damn training for those stupid stunts and I feel so tired and I come home wanting to just relax and watch movies on the couch but then we have our date and as much as I want to go. I can’t find the energy to get ready.”

Tom placed a soft kiss on the top of your head, “why didn’t you just tell me that to begin with?”

“Because I didn’t want you to get upset.”

He let out a dry chuckle, “I wouldn’t have been upset, nor am I upset at the moment. Y/N, I played Spiderman, I know what it’s like to be tired after a day of shooting nothing but stunts. You have nothing to worry about, I understand.” You let out a relieved sigh, “Reservations can be canceled and remade. Get ready for a bath and some well-needed relaxation.” Before you could even argue, Tom was making his way out the door. You let out a sigh and began prepping yourself for a bath.

It took you about fifteen minutes to get ready for your bath, most of the time had been spent sitting on your bed, procrastinating the bath. You walked towards the bathroom down the hall. As you got closer you heard the sound of the water running, you walked in to see Tom testing the temperature of the water for your bath, “you didn’t have to do that,” you said, startling Tom slightly.

He turned around and smiled at you, “if I can’t spoil you with a fancy dinner for our first date then I am going to spoil you by helping you relax as much as possible,” he got up from his position by the bath. Walking over to you to place a small kiss on your cheek, “there’s a bath bomb with your name on it, waiting to be dunked into the bathtub whenever you are ready.”

“Thank you,” you said as you placed a kiss on his cheek. He smiled at you once more before leaving you in the bathroom for your own privacy.

Tom walked into the living room, he knew exactly what he had to do but he had to do it quick. He scrambled for his phone in his pocket to make a quick call before he could start getting to work on everything else.

~

You felt so relaxed and a bit less tired once you were out of your bath. You had put on some sweats along with a hoodie. You ran your towel through your wet hair, long enough to make it damp. Once you were done with that you made your way out to the living room.

You looked around the living room, confused when you saw the couch cushions were gone and bed sheets draped over chairs. A fort. There was a fort in the living room and you didn’t know why. “T-Tom?” You called out.

“In here, Y/N!” You heard Tom say from the fort. You walked over to the small entrance to the fort, crawling inside to see Tom smiling over at you, “what do you think?” he asked. You looked at the fort in amazement, soft blankets covered the mattress that you had sat on, that you assumed was from one of the guest rooms. Tom had his laptop at the far end, the couch cushions were set up to where you could lean on them along with some other pillows. “You said you wanted to relax and well, what better way to relax than relaxing in a fort?” Tom brought out a box of pizza that you had somehow missed, “and of course, we couldn’t forget pizza.”

“You bought a pizza?”

“I would have attempted to make you a five-course meal but I wanted to surprise you with the fort and food by the time you got out of the bath and well, I can’t cook for shit,” Tom expressed causing you to laugh.

“Tom, this is the sweetest and kindest gesture anyone has ever done for me,” You said as you kissed his cheek, “I love it!”

Tom smiled, “Good, now I have King Kong ready for us to watch, so,” he handed you a plate, “grab a slice and get ready for some relaxation!” Tom grabbed himself a slice before leaning back into the couch cushions. You smiled and grabbed a slice and leaned against Tom. Your head against his chest, you could hear his heart beating fast and you couldn’t help but wonder if you were the cause of it. You kept looking around the fort, most guys you had dated would’ve just taken you somewhere to eat and called it good. But not Tom. Even when you had an official boyfriend, they never did such a gesture.

You looked back up at Tom, watching as he paid closed attention towards the movie, you couldn’t help but wonder why you hadn’t given him a chance earlier in life? You shook away your thoughts, trying to maintain in the present, “this definitely tops your first plan,” you admitted as you pulled your attention towards the movie.

Tom smiled at your comment, “I’ll take note of that for future dates, love.”

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[eldritchsurveys]

764.

What is something small that brings you a lot of joy? >> The first dandelions of the season.

What would it take for you to feel completely satisfied with your life? >> Honestly, at this point, I think all it would take is moving somewhere a bit warmer and greener and with a lot less people around. I’m pretty okay with everything else in my life. It’s light-years better than it ever was.

What was going on the last time someone yelled at you? >> An argument, most likely.

Describe the best and worst aspects of your personality? >> I’d rather not.

How did you discover your current favorite band(s)? >> ---

When was the last time you changed your mind about something? >> I was originally not going to go for a walk this morning, and then I did.

How have your dreams and ambitions changed since you were younger? >> They haven’t really. I still don’t have any ambitions.

What are some of your current favorite lyrics? >> Lay Me Low by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds has some good lyrics. I listened to it today on my walk and was reminded of that.

Are you more of a private person or an open one? >> I am open in the sense that I’m not ashamed of myself or anything (you know, when Inner Critic isn’t in charge). But I’m private because I just don’t think everyone needs to know everything about me all the time. The fortress of my existence isn’t necessarily impenetrable, but you can’t just fucking waltz in either, lmao.

What is something you wish you had learned when you were younger? >> Meh. There’s no guarantee that learning a particular lesson at an earlier time would have made my life any better, so who cares. I did my best with what I had and here I am.

What do you consider to be your greatest achievement? >> Being here, right now, still alive and not, like, fucking locked away somewhere or dead in a gutter.

Are you creative or artistic? What do you like to express through art? >> Sure. I don’t know how to answer the second question.

What is something you eat that others consider gross? >> I dare someone to call something I’m eating and obviously enjoying “gross”. See how long I put up with that rude bullshit.

Five ways your life has changed over the last five years? >> I moved out here, I stopped using DXM, I gained weight, I got married, I experienced first class flight.

When was the last time you needed help with something? >> I don’t remember.

What kinds of things do you consider romantic? >> I’m not interested in romance.

What is something you will never do again? >> Who knows.

In what ways do you think you inspire others? >> I’m not sure anything about me is particularly inspiring. I’d have to be explicitly told otherwise if I’m going to have any idea about this.

What is something from your childhood that you still enjoy? >> The Prince of Egypt.

In what ways are you open-minded? How about close-minded? >> I’m open-minded in almost all ways I can think of. I can’t think of a way in which I’m close-minded...

What is something that is uniquely YOU? >> I don’t think anything is uniquely ME. There’s always going to be someone out there with at least a similar experience or opinion or worldview as me, even if I never encounter them. There’s probably someone else right now who is reading The Dark Tower and getting to my part and going “that’s... that’s me, I lived that life” and tbh I hope I do encounter that person so I can have someone else to bitch about Roland to.

How do you tend to conduct yourself in arguments? >> I tend to just. Not have arguments. I’m over it, there’s nothing in the world I have ever found that is really worth arguing with someone about. Maybe I’ll find something one day, but right now I am really content with just not bothering.

When was the last time you apologized for something? >> I don’t remember. I try to avoid doing things I need to apologise for as much as possible.

Name one healthy and one unhealthy thing you do? >> ---

Do you prefer to be alone or around other people? >> I prefer to be alone, although I will make an exception for a certain few people. And by “few” I mean “I can count them on one hand”-few. (There are plenty of people that I like, sure, but when it comes to purposefully setting aside my alone-time to spend time with someone else... there’s gotta be more than just “yeah, you’re cool” going on.)

What is your most recent passion or obsession? >> Final Fantasy XIV.

If money wasn't an issue, how would you live your life differently? >> Well, I’d buy more high-quality, long-lasting products (which are usually outside of my current budget, so despite my preference for them I often have to settle for the cheaper options). I’d be able to make all the food choices that I prefer, buying local produce and better ingredients and such. And we definitely wouldn’t be living here.

When was the last time you made a drastic change to your appearance? >> I don’t remember. My appearance has been pretty static for the past five years, aside from my weight.

What is something you believe in that not many others do? >> The experience of being from another world, which happened to be written about by some guy on this one and published as fiction.

What calms you down or comforts you? >> Can Calah, primarily. Also, sitting in the sunlight.

When was the last time you went somewhere new? >> Ha! Good fucking question, eh.

With whom do you spend the most time? >> Sparrow, because we live together.

What's your favorite food to have for breakfast? >> Veggie burgers and chips. I don’t know when or how that happened, but it did. Samefood gang~

Do you have any unusual eating habits? >> I guess the concept of samefooding is a little unusual, considering it seems to be particular to people with spectrum disorders or whatever.

How old were you when you figured out what you wanted to do for a career? >> ---

When was the last time you conquered a fear? >> I don’t know.

What did you think of the last book you read? >> The Poisonwood Bible took me like three years to finish lmao (I would read some of it and then put it down and forget about it for months at a time -- a whole year, even) but I found it to be very engaging and immersive. I loved the way each character had such a distinct voice -- I would sometimes cover up the chapter title (which would be the name of the POV character) and try to guess the character from just the first couple of sentences and I always got it right, just because I could tell their voice immediately. It was a lovely story full of emotional and philosophical depth and I gave it five stars on Goodreads now that I’ve finally finished it, hah.

What is your current favorite television show? >> Succession, lmao. I didn’t expect to get sucked into it the way I did, but HBO dramas really are good at that.

What happened the last time you were annoyed? >> Spooky is jumping on things he shouldn’t be jumping on again. He’d better not knock anything over that I have to clean up. This is reason 3498587 why I don’t care for pets.

How would you describe your bedroom? >> Small and easily cluttered. Ask me again after I’ve thrown away/donated half of my belongings (as I tend to do).

What happened the last time you cried? >> I was being overwhelmed by environmental noise.

When was the last time you were out in nature? >> This morning. Not like, fully immersed in nature -- I was walking down a sidewalk, after all -- but there was some to observe. It’s as good as it gets, for now.

When was the last time you were in a big city? >> January (Houston, Texas).

Have you been drifting away from anyone lately? >> Not to my knowledge.

Is there anyone with whom you would like to be better friends? >> Meh.

What do you like most about summer? >> The warmth, the Sun, the wealth of outdoor things to do.

What are your favorite things to do during the winter months? >> Be inside :|

Who were you with the last time you watched a movie? >> I was alone.

What was the subject of your last phone conversation? >> Insurance bullshit.

What was your first pet? Do you still have this pet? >> A Rottweiler. No way, that was when I was a child.

What was the last thing you purchased online? In a store? >> Underwear (got price-gouged, too, but that’s what happens when you will only wear a specific kind and no other will do). The last thing I purchased in a store was groceries.

Where was the last place you went on vacation? >> I guess going to Elle’s wedding was kind of a vacation.

What is your favorite thing to learn about? >> I have a lot of favourite things to learn about.

Who do you trust most in your life? >> Can Calah.

Have you ever done any volunteer work? If so, what? >> No.

If you have a job, what do you like best about it? >> ---

If you were to redecorate your house, what style would you choose? >> I live in an apartment, that’s not happening.

What is your relationship like with your parents? Siblings? >> Nonexistent.

When was the last time you visited your relatives? >> ---

What are you going to do now that you're finished? >> Might take a peek at my dashboard, might get bored of that within 5 minutes and do something else, who knows.

[rambling-at-midnight]

Snowflakes Melt Too Quickly: Part 4

Here you go, anon that wanted me to make them cry! I hope I succeeded!

I’m almost done with Part 5. Thank you all for your support!

The Thaw

Day 16447

You fiddle with the rings Five had given you all those years ago. They’re a bit tarnished now but still beautiful, and you love them. They reflect the light in little constellations on the walls of the ruined building you’re sitting in, resting your feet as Five jumped away for something he’d called quite important.

“Y/N?” Five calls, ducking back into the ruins the two of you are occupying currently. Though you’ve gone back to the Costco you met in for multiple occasions—the most significant one being, obviously, your wedding—but Five’s now got it in his head that there’s got to be someone else out in the apocalypse and he’s dragging you along.

Never mind that it’s been almost forty-five years since the moon exploded and you haven’t seen anyone. The odds of missing people in this wasteland are next to nothing. You don’t want to spoil Five’s hope, though.

His second mission is to jump back to his siblings with you. For some reason he’s converted the problem into a math equation, and his scribbles decorate the standing walls of the ruin. You can’t make hide nor hair of them, but Five seems to find sense in them.

“Y/N, remember that old house with the fantastic wine cellar? Well—”

You sigh. As the years have gone by, Five’s developed a bit of a drinking problem. Maybe it’s his way of coping with his surroundings, like how you try to hide away in books. He’s never acted out in any way while drunk. He’s just… always trying to get drunk. You’ll drink with him sometimes, but you don’t like the way it makes you numb.

You suspect that’s exactly the reason Five likes the alcohol.

“It’s the good Chardeaux!” Five protests, holding up the bottle.

“Won’t you just mess up your equations?” you argue back, raising an eyebrow.

Five waves a hand dismissively. “You can just stop me from doing my math for the time being.”

You snort at that. Nothing and no one could ever stop Five, you don’t think. Putting aside his stubborn personality, he can spacial jump and even without jumping, is much faster than your normal hobble-limp.

Five sits down next to you, dropping a quick kiss on your cheek as he does so, and pops open the bottle of wine. “What are you reading?”

You hold up the book. “1984 by George Orwell.”

Five whistles, slightly impressed. He’d read that before, during a free day that Reginald had to attend an important meeting and Pogo didn’t have the heart to subject the kids to their training. It’s definitely an interesting read. “You’ve finally moved on from young adult fiction novels about magic and the sort?”

You elbow his side. “I stopped reading those years ago, Five. I’m fifty-eight years old.”

“And just as beautiful as the day I met you,” he quips. It’s a terrible line, and you roll your eyes, but still allow him to lean forward and press his lips chastely against yours.

With a gleeful smirk like he’d just pulled something off, Five leans back and lifts the bottle to his mouth for the first time. You look on, momentarily losing interest in 1984. He’s barely taken a swallow before the book falls out of your lap and your eyes widen to approximately the size of dinner plates. A sound like a squeak tries to make its way out of your mouth but gets suffocated in your throat, and Five looks to see what’s gotten you to scared.

The bottle hits the ground, which he would normally lament the loss of as the glass shatters and blissful liquid spills everywhere, but he’s too busy jumping to his rifle and pointing it at this newcomer, a woman with old-fashioned clothes and wavy grey hair. You stoop and grasp a particularly large shard of glass in the off-chance Five will need you to kill or cut this woman, but all that happens is that it opens up a long but shallow cut on your palm. You don’t wince, though; the pain is nothing. Besides, at least you know it’s sharp.

“Hello, Number Five,” the woman says, waving. “I am the Handler. I work for the Temps Commission. We handle time anomalies—”

You shift. Is this woman crazy or something? You’ve never heard of a Temps Commission before. Besides, time travel is impossible unless you’re Five.

“—and employ agents to get rid of potential threats to the timeline,” the woman continues. Five clicks the safety off the gun, which makes her put her hands up, but that mysterious smile is still on her face.

The blood drains out of yours. Five technically isn’t supposed to be in this timeline. Is this woman here to kill him?

The woman laughs. “You misunderstand me. I’m here to recruit you, not kill you.”

Five lowers the rifle with shock and you exchange a confused glance with him.

“Without me, you’re never going to escape the apocalypse,” the woman presses. “So come with me. If you sign on to a five-year contract, we will let you return to the time period of your choosing and live out the rest of your life peacefully. I guarantee it.” The woman holds out her hand, and your mind is whirling. This is entirely too much; after forty-five years of Five being the only other person on the Earth, there’s suddenly someone else on it that wants to recruit Five to—to what? A super-secret band of time travelers? This is crazy.

“What about Y/N?” Five asks slowly.

The woman glances at you for the first time like she’s just realized you’re there, though by the sullen twist of her mouth you can tell she’s known that you were there from the beginning and was just trying to ignore your presence. “Y/N is supposed to be here. You are not.”

“I’m not leaving without Y/N,” Five says stubbornly. It’s probably the first time you’ve ever been grateful for that particular character trait of his.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” the woman tries. “You must leave Y/N or you cannot leave at all.”

“Fine,” Five says cockily, setting his gun on the ground like a walking stick and leaning on it. “But you wouldn’t have gone through all the trouble of trying to come find me if you didn’t want me to work for you, hm? You’d have just killed me because I’m not supposed to be in this timeline. So you obviously need me more than I need you. Ergo, Y/N or nothing.” Five cocks an eyebrow at the woman and sends a secret grin in your direction. You can’t help the heat that rushes into your cheeks at the sight.

To your surprise, the woman doesn’t try to argue with him. She just sighs deeply. “I don’t suppose I can change your mind on this?”

“Nope.”

You smile at the ground, twisting the rings around your ring finger. You really were lucky in scoring a guy like this; no one else would put their future on the line like that. No one else would be so stubborn about staying with you they’d potentially trap themselves in a future they’re not supposed to be in—because hadn’t the woman said ‘Without me, you’re never going to escape the apocalypse’?

“What can you do, Y/N?” the Handler asks, turning to you with pursed lips like she’d just eaten a lemon. “Can you even speak?”

You raise one eyebrow. “I can do whatever I’m required to do.”

Five shakes her hand.

Day 17682

You’re Dot’s assistant. It’s quite a boring job, actually, which means you can listen in on other peoples’ conversations without ever messing up.

Most of the time when the Handler and Dot are talking, it’s about you and Five. They’re arrogant enough to believe you aren’t listening, especially when you’re humming. You’ve heard a lot of speculation from them, including that you and Five aren’t threats at all, considering the Commission can just hold one of you over the other’s heads.

You’ve heard that they think you and Five are unhealthily dependent on each other, and you’d thought that might be a little accurate—it had taken the both of you a long time to adjust to not having the other around constantly. Even now whenever Five’s around he’s the only one you want to talk to. You haven’t made a lot of effort with other people.

You’ve heard that Five is fantastic but you’re useless and that they don’t understand why he would settle for you.

You’ve heard that your pace of work is mediocre.

You’ve heard that the only reason you’re here is for Five.

You’ve heard they’re trying to convince Five to take on a longer contract, but he’s assured you he’s not going to.

You’ve heard that they’ve been considering killing your past self so you never meet Five and he has no connections to you or to anyone besides his siblings. That had scared you a little bit, and you’d told Five, but he’d promised you that he’d never forget you, so you’d promised you’d never forget him. He promised you’d never get hurt, not if he could help it.

You’ve heard many, many things, and you’re very good at pretending you don’t hear them. It just makes your temper boil and your desire to get five years—three down so far; only two left, and that isn’t so bad—out of the way.

Now the Handler and Dot are complaining again about your work. You’d messed up twice in the past week, just to make them angry and cement their ideas that you’re mediocre or less, and you walk slowly, milking your burnt feet. It’s better to make people underestimate you than overestimate you. People underestimate you and overestimate Five, so you together pretty much evens it out, or so you’d like to think.

Small snippets of their conversation float to you through the countless metal tubes.

“—slow,” you hear Dot hiss.

“Utterly useless,” the Handler replies back. “If not for Five…”

You hum a little louder and lean on the cart you’re pushing so the wheel squeaks as it rolls. It serves a double purpose; it annoys the other two women and makes them think you’re not listening.

A sudden thought occurs to you: What if they’re talking so arrogantly about me because they want me to hear? What if they’re just playing me?

Something crashes outside the room and you halt. The voices cut off and you hear the Handler and Dot stand up. “What’s going on?” they ask simultaneously.

A hand grasps your arm and you turn around, gasping, but it’s just Five. What? He’s supposed to be off stopping the assassination of President Kennedy!

“Five has abandoned his mission!” you hear someone say loudly outside. “He’s trying to break his contract!”

“Let’s go!” Five murmurs, pulling out the copy of the book that Vanya had written and rifling through the pages hurriedly.

“Where is he now?” the Handler asks.

“We don’t know!”

You hold your breath for a long beat, a long beat where no one is talking and no one is moving save for Five ruffling through his book. Then you hear the clicking of the Handler’s heels and you slump. Not good.

“Y/N!” the Handler calls in a sing-song, knowing voice. You and Five both freeze. She knows.

At the same time Five puts his finger to his lips, you duck down so the Handler can’t see you if she glances over in your direction. “Hurry,” you hiss to Five. Nerves bubble up in your stomach, making you both nervous and happy, but you battle to push them down. You’ll be ecstatic you’re escaping after you’ve actually escaped.

“Y/N, come out!” the Handler calls. You can hear her high heels click on the floor as she draws nearer to where you and Five are crouching. His eyes are screwed shut with concentration, sweat breaking over his forehead, but the blue light is starting to crackle around his fists. “And Five, you come on out, too!”

“Hurry,” you moan, wringing your hands together. Click-click, click-click, click-click, signals the impending doom of the Handler seeing you both and stopping you. Click-click, click-click, click-click, she draws ever closer.

“I’m trying!” Five snaps back to you, but the blue light isn’t forming a portal. The Handler’s too close. Click… click. Click… click.

You close your eyes, furiously thinking. Five is vital to stopping the apocalypse. The bad thing about that is that he wants to stop the apocalypse, too. You know this. Everyone knows this, even the Handler, which is why she’s been watching the two of you so closely.

You, on the other hand, are not vital to stopping the apocalypse. You don’t have a special power. You have anxiety when you think about speaking to someone that’s not Five after so long of just him.. You’re not special. You’re selfish if it’s because of you that Five is caught and punished by the Commission.

You stand up, meeting the Handler’s eyes as Five squawks with dismay behind you. Your blood is pumping, making the burns on your arms and feet tingle.

“Y/N,” the Handler clucks her tongue. “Come, now.”

“I’ve—almost—got it,” Five grunts behind you, but it’s too late.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter. “I love you.”

“Y/N!” he protests. You can picture the panicked expression on his face—the wrinkled forehead, the wide eyes, the gaping mouth. It’ll just hurt more to look at it.

For a long, long second, you and the Handler just stare at each other. There’s no doubt she can see you, and probably Five behind you, but this confrontation isn’t like you. It’s the only thing keeping her from pulling the trigger of the handgun that’s pointed right at you. The Handler narrows her eyes and her lips barely part to ask you what you think you’re doing.

At the same time you hear the electricity crackle that’s the sign of one of his portals opening, you’re jumping away from him right at the Handler. There’s no time for her to pull the trigger. In the split-second before your bodies collide, you see her eyes widen with surprise, and some feral instinct curls your lip with pleasure at finally managing to surprise the old hag.

The two of you hit the ground, struggling for a second. You’re trying to keep the gun away from you and she’s trying to kill you, but she’s seriously underestimated you, which you’ve always known would be the death of her. She underestimates most people except Five and possibly Dot.

“Y/N—” the Handler gasps out but cuts off when you smash your elbow as hard as you can into her throat. One of her hand slaps at your face, but you’re too busy wrestling with her slackening grip on the gun that you hardly notice.

All too soon, there’s utter silence and you’re kneeling over the Handler’s body, your steady hands training the gun right on her face. Both your chests are heaving up and down for air. The commotion in the hallways is muted oddly by the rushing of blood in your ear, and you have no idea if Five’s left or not. For all you’ve dreamed of this moment, it’s hard to pull the trigger.

You clench your jaw and start to squeeze. The Handler’s eyes widen. You’re going to do it, you’re squeezing harder—

Someone loops their arm around your torso and you wince like you’d actually pulled the trigger and squeak with surprise, dropping the gun on the Handler’s stomach. It falls off and slides a foot away from her hand. “No!” you scream. If it’s a Commission agent, you’re going to kill them for stopping you. You slap at the hand around your waist, eyes wide with panic as you watch the Handler prop herself up on one elbow and reach for the gun. They won’t let you twist out of their grip.

“It’s just me,” Five grunts, dragging you back to the portal he’d created. “Come on, Y/N!”

You relax and he stops holding you. Five jumps through the portal barely in front of you, but it looks like he’s struggling to get through. You squeeze the fingers on his hand as tightly as you can. We’re doing it! you think gleefully. We’re really going to stop the apocalypse!

For some reason, you can’t breathe while going through the portal. Your chest aches. Time travel is not fun.

Something sails through it behind you that looks suspiciously like a fire extinguisher.

Your feet hit the ground. A group of people you recognize from your childhood stare at you. Holy shit, you realize, that’s the Umbrella Academy!

“You are so dumb,” Five mutters behind you. His voice is suspiciously high, not unlike how it was when you’d first met him.

You try to turn around to him but somehow you find yourself on the ground, staring up at the vast sky, finding it harder and harder to suck in air. Five drops to his knees beside you and you realize he looks thirteen years old again. His hands flutter over your body, pulling your now-oversized jacket (are you thirteen again too?) away from your chest. When you raise your head, you can see a red flower spreading sluggishly on your shirt from your chest, just barely having missed your heart (you think).

That was the pain you’d noticed when going through the portal. The Handler had shot you. Right through, an in-and-out wound.

Hadn’t Five bragged a few times when you were able to have lunch together that he’d had a ‘clean shot, right in and out’?

“Oh, my God,” you hear someone say—was it you? Was it Five? Was it someone else? You can’t be sure; everything feels so fuzzy now that you’re on the ground and Five’s hovering over you. It’s such a pretty contrast to see his tanned skin and dark hair against the clear blue sky. You were hardly let out of the Commission headquarters while you were working. You haven’t seen the sky in almost a year.

“Hey, Y/N, stay with me,” Five begs, trying to put pressure on the wound, but you cry out and he jerks away, hands covered with your blood. “Somebody get help!” he screams, voice harsh and grating against his throat.

“Five,” you gasp out. You’re choking now, and you’re pretty sure it’s on your own blood.

You’d swam when you were a child, and you’d loved to hold your breath underwater. You never drowned. You’re drowning now, and a single tear drips out of the corner of your eye and down to your ear.

“Shh,” Five whispers, curling his smaller body around yours. He lifts up your head and puts it in his lap. “Shh. We’re getting help. Hold on, Y/N. Hold on.”

Moisture is hitting your cheek. Is it raining?

“Hey, hey, stay with me, Y/N,” Five instructs, stroking your cheek to wipe the moisture away, but it just keeps coming. “It’s going to be okay. Remember? I promised you’d be okay. Remember? We’re going to go to Venice, remember? We’re going to get old together—”

“We’re already old,” you whisper back. You’re not going to blink. You don’t want to miss the beautiful second chance Five’s been given. He can live another life, one that’s not so lonely, once he’s stopped the apocalypse. You’re sorry you won’t be able to do it with him, but you’ve already had one lifetime with him.

“Not anymore,” Five says automatically. He always has to argue, always has to be right.

Your hand clenches around his when another burst of pain shoots through your body. You can’t breathe.

“SOMEBODY HELP ME!” Five bellows over his shoulder.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Five had promised, serious green eyes staring into yours as he held your hand, thumb absently drawing circles on the back of yours. You know he won’t let anything happen to you. Five’s the best assassin there is; the Commission needs him, and he’ll be the best there is for as long as you’re trapped in the lion’s den. “And I’ll never forget you, not even if they take you from me.”

“You won’t have any control over that,” you whisper.

“I can just time travel and fix it,” Five promises. “I can fix everything.”

“I’ll never forget you either.” Your voice is small when you reply, and you’re twisting the rings on your fingers around. “I promise.”

“Where do you want to go once the contract is over?”

Five knows exactly where he wants to go. He wants to go back to a week before the apocalypse. That should be enough time to stop it. You don’t stop talking, though.

“I think I’d like to go back to Italy. Venice. Maybe during the Renaissance?” You smile at Five, a little sadly, because you know exactly what the two of you will be doing once the contract is over. He’d never be able to live with himself if he left his siblings and the rest of the world to die. No, you’re just indulging yourself in quiet, peaceful fantasies.

“Maybe we’ll be able to travel to Venice once all this is over,” Five muses, taking great pleasure in the twinkle in your eye and the smile on your face.

“Y/N?”

You stiffen. It’s a voice you haven’t heard in years.

“Y/N?” the voice repeats. “Come on, baby. I know you didn’t follow me last time, but you have to follow me this time.”

A woman kneels down next to Five and for a second she looks undeniably like your mother. Her mouth isn’t saying those words, though. Your head rolls to the side and there’s your real mother, standing there just as plain as day. She’s not burnt, but she must still be dead, since you’re dying. She’s come to take you away. That’s weird. She’s not supposed to be dead yet. Maybe that’s what happens when you mess with time travel.

“Mom?” you breathe, and Five’s eyebrows wrinkle with concern.

“Y/N? Come on! Stay with me! The ambulance is on its way, you just need to wait a little longer—”

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, but it’s too much effort to turn your head to look at him. He seems to read your mind and moves your head for you, hands on your cheeks.

“Shut up,” he snarls, eyes puffy and tears still streaming down his cheeks. So that’s where the rain was coming from. “Shut up. Hold on, okay? Ready? Count with me, okay? Just… stay here.”

“I don’t want to go,” you say, cold panic gripping your chest. “I don’t want to go, Five, I don’t want to—I want to—” You cut off, coughing wetly. Your mouth tastes of copper. Your chest hurts so bad. It’s hard to breathe, but you need to hold on for Five. The thought of moving on without him, doing anything without him, is terrifying. You don’t want to drown. You love to swim, but you also love to breathe.

You can feel your mother picking you up, though you can also feel Five’s hands on your face, slapping gently to keep your eyes from falling shut. “I’m sorry, baby,” your mother whispers. “Don’t worry. It’ll all be okay.”

How can it be okay? you wonder wildly. You’re leaving Five after decades of only having Five. You’re being selfish again.

If she’s picking you up, why does it also feel like she’s holding your head underwater? Your blunt fingernails scrabble against Five’s skin, trying to find purchase to pull yourself up. You’re trying so, so desperately to keep your head afloat, but you’re still coughing and choking.

“Five—Five—” You curl your fingers into the fabric of his shirt, panicking and unable to move. Drowning is the worst way to go out.

“Hey, you promised, remember?” Five asks sharply. “You promised, and you can’t break a promise, Y/N. Remember? Y/N? Hey, Y/N? Oh, my God. Babe, babe, please, just a little longer. Stay with me, please? I need you, all right? Y/N? Please?”

Umbrella Academy Taglist:

@fentanvl @deathswretch @lightningidiot @five-hg @iamsnek666@ameliatrh @ihatecheesyusernames @dora-the-grownup @emilyt0314 @idklol707

Five x Reader Taglist:

@statsvitenskap @dare-the-punisher @thespian-anon @ask-veronica-sawyer-heathers @fivegallaghers @ggclarissa @akiyamakuro @featuringcone9

Snowflakes Taglist:

@campcampie

Forever Taglist:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @iksey

[coeurdastronaute]

Essays in Existentialism: Halloween

"my kid unknowingly tricks or treats at your house and it turns out he's wearing the costume of the character you're famous for playing in film/tv" thank you for the great stories!:)

The street was absolutely inundated with people. All shapes and sizes and ages and levels of joy ran up and down, ringing doorbells and shrieking with joy. Cobwebs hung from palm trees while tall hedges were riddled with skeletons and gigantic spiders and all manner of monsters and creatures.

While the streetlights burned bright orange, different houses had different noises mingling with the joys of the kids and their parents trying to keep them from running all over and into everyone. Parties littered the block, with Monster Mashes and ghoulie songs wafting through open windows and doors and pools.

It was purely orchestrated chaos, driven by kids and the fun that came in a little fear.

“Do we have to do another block?”

“Yes please!” a little voice responded, happily tugging on a hand, carefully lugging a much too full bag of cavities.

With a sigh, Clarke took the first few steps toward the new block while her five year old practically skipped in search of more food.

“We shouldn’t have come to Grandma’s neighborhood. It’s so big,” Clarke complained.

“But Gramma’s friends give out the big candy,” Maddie argued, proving her point.

The real reason they were trick-or-treating in the opulent neighborhood across town was that Clarke had just got off work, and Grandma was babysitting, but her daughter didn’t have to know that. At any point she could, Clarke tried to make the struggle seem effortless. It was a losing war, but she won some battles, even if it meant schlepping up and down long driveways and up and down long blocks of giant mansions.

Her daughter was happy, and that was all she needed.

“This is the last one, and then we’re going back to Grandma’s house. Grandpa will check the candy while we take a bath.”

“I can eat all of my candy?”

“You can eat two pieces.”

“Five pieces?”

“Two.”

“Fine,” her daughter sighed, adjusting the helmet that sometimes slid into her vision. “But you guys can’t eat it all like last year.”

“We won’t,” Clarke lied, standing back as the little astronaut from her favorite movie ventured forward to another door.

Very slowly, as the made it down the final street, the crowds inevitably thinned as dusk settled and the darkness came out more clearly. Wearily, after over sixteen hours in the ER and another one trudging around, the porches graced Clarke with the escape of being out of candy.

“Looks like we’re all done,” she smiled, swinging her daughter’s hand. “Did you have fun? Feels like you got a lot of candy.”

“That one! We still can go to that one,” Maddie pointed to the house on the corner as they finished their loop and tried to return home.

“We don’t--”

With a tug, the precocious little girl was on her way across the street, and her mother could do nothing but agree, because it was ending soon.

The decorations were minimal, but an effort was made. The pumpkin on the front porch was hand-carved and had a very poorly fitting stem, and misshapen eyes, but the house itself was gorgeous. Slowly Clarke followed up the walk while her daughter skipped ahead, eager for her favorite phrase.

“Trick or treat!” she squealed, just as excited the final time as she’d been at the first door.

“Well, this is incredible. You look like--”

“You! You’re… you’re… MOM!” Maddie shrieked just as Clarke climbed the few steps. “It’s Commander Flare! MOM!”

“Okay, don’t yell,” Clarke chided the hopping girl.

She smiled and prepared herself to apologize until she looked up and met very familiar eyes. The problem being only that they were familiar because a certain DVD played non-stop in their house about a badass space crew and their adventure across time and space. A global phenomenon, it was slated to have a sequel in a few months already. Maddie wouldn’t understand what it meant that Lexa Woods was currently smiling at the miniature version of her character, but Clarke sure as hell knew that a megastar was handing out Twizzlers.

“Commander, it is an honor to meet you,” the actress clicked her heels together and saluted, immediately at attention.

Maddie did the same, her hand bumping the large dome around her head as she misjudged how to hup to.

“How has your mission gone tonight? Lots of candy?”

Kindly, Lexa bent down near the little girl, appreciating her costume and smiling at the idea of seeing a little person dressed like herself. It wasn’t that the movie wasn’t particularly meant for kids, but it had some scary aliens in it. Clearly, this one was a badass.

“Yes ma’am, Commander Flare, sir. Are you on a break from your missions to the stars?”

“I am,” she nodded, quite seriously. “Are you thinking about joining Light Force when you get older?”

“I’m already five, but my mom said no until I’m at least nine,” Maddie explained, casting a look back at her mother just to confirm that she still couldn’t enlist for a fictional army unit based in deep space.

“Hmmm,” Lexa nodded, meeting the stranger’s eyes once again, her face changing slightly before it returned to the little girl. “I think your mom is right. But I promise to put in a good word for you. What’s your name?”

“Maddie,” she chirped, all smiles and dimples. “Maddie Finn Griffin.”

“That’s a strong name for a space explorer. Do you eat your vegetables?”

“Sometimes.”

The actress looked over the little astronaut for confirmation and gave her a wink.

“And do you brush your teeth?”

“All the time.”

“And do you help people whenever they need it?”

“Yes.”

“Do you listen to your mom and dad no matter what?”

“I listen to my mom. I don’t have a dad.”

Slightly taken by surprise with that answer, Lexa furrowed for a second and regained her composure after sharing another look with the amused mother who instantly went into panic mode. To think of her daughter and the situation Finn left her with… it was sometimes too much.

“Well, that still counts,” Lexa promised, deep and honest. “I’ll send my report along to Fleet Commander.”

“Mom! Did you hear that? I can go to Mars!” Maddie smiled, her own jack-o-lantern smile of missing teeth glowing brighter than any other that night.

“When you’re nine,” Lexa reminded her. “In fact,” she whispered, “I think twelve is the cut off, but I’ll try to pull some strings for you.”

“Would you? Promise?”

“Of course,” she nodded, finally standing up. “It’s nice to meet a fellow explorer.”

“Thanks for… that,” Clarke nudged her head toward her daughter who stared intently at her hero in the flesh. “I’m Clarke.”

“Lexa.”

With an extension of her hand, the actress made Clarke come into the light on the porch to shake it, and she faltered slightly when she realized what she was looking at. For a moment too long, they shook hands, holding onto each other while looking back and forth into each other’s eyes.

“I swear, we didn’t know you lived--”

“No, no, I know,” she dismissed it, finally letting her hand drop. “It’s Halloween. I haven’t see a better one of my costume though. Did you make it?”

“It’s her favorite movie. I could do it from memory with how many times we’ve watched it.”

“Wow,” Lexa nodded, looking once again at the little girl who pushed up her visor to look at her with a toothy grin. “Maddie, would you mind taking a picture with me? I’d love to show the rest of the group.”

“Can I, Mommy?”

“If you want,” Clarke nodded.

Instantly, she earned approval, and Lexa picked up the five year old and fished in her pocket to hand over her phone.

“This is the best night of my life,” Lexa sighed contentedly.

“Count of three say cheese. One, two, three!”

The chorus rang out and Clarke snapped a few different ones before Lexa put her daughter back on the ground.

“I know your mom might get mad at me for this, but…” with another wink, something Clarke was becoming incredibly angry about because who in the hell actually did that and how in the hell did it actually work, she slide the rest of her candy bowl into Maddie’s waiting candy bag. “You’re not only my last customer, your my best one, and my trainer will thank you from stopping me from gorging and watching monster movies.”

“What do you say?” Clarke prodded as her daughter leaned back against her, happy and bashful and overwhelmed and tired.

“Thank you, Commander.”

“You, are very welcome,” the actress offered with another salute. “Be good out there.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Thank you for this, seriously,” Clarke sighed. “I can’t imagine a better ending.”

“If you want, I could send you the picture, and you could have it, for her or you, or whatever,” Lexa offered, the mysterious bravado she had when performing for a five year old all but dried up. She scratched the back of her neck and swallowed, avoiding Clarke’s eyes until the last minute.

“Yeah, yeah, of course, I’d love that.”

“Cool, cool,” she nodded, fiddling quickly with her phone before handing it over for Clarke to enter her information. “So you live in the neighborhood?”

“My mother does,” Clarke explained. “We decided bigger houses meant bigger candy, and I just got off work.”

“I thought it was a costume,” she grinned, nudging her chin toward Clarke’s outfit.

“Nope, I’m a doctor over at General,” she nodded, embarrassed slightly by her dark scrubs. “Busy day today, so I came straight from work.”

Maddie busied herself staring at the actress and rummaging through her own candy bag in search of her five treats she would have after her bath. Clarke handed back the phone and Lexa glanced at it before smiling.

“Must be nice to have a built in back up plan.”

“Doesn’t hurt,” she grinned.

“I can’t imagine.”

An awkwardness settled between them, and neither really knew how to address it, so they blushed and cleared their throats and shifted their weight back and forth.

“Mommy, can Commander Flare come home with us?”

“Yes, can I?” Lexa smiled, wide and innocent.

Clarke found herself stuck with two sets of puppy dog eyes and no real defense against it.

“The Commander has a busy night and monster movies to watch. Maybe another time.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” she taunted.

“You have my number,” Clarke shrugged. “Come on, baby. Say thank you again.”

“Happy Halloween, Commander,” Maddie waved as they made their way back into the street and the remaining stragglers from the river of exhausted trick-or-treaters.

“Happy Halloween,” Lexa waved back, empty candy bowl in her other hand as she watched the most peculiar twosome walk away, and suddenly feeling very different about it.

[luniellar]

It’s You: 05 (Chris Evans / Sebastian Stan / FC)

A/N: LOL I cracked open the old photoshop to test my skills from high school and that horrific thing above was the product. Well... all bad photoshop skills aside, here is chapter five fam! 

Summary: Chris, Sebastian, and Julie (Fictional Character) have been friends for a long time… even before Chris and Seb started their acting careers and landed a role in the Marvel Universe. Friendship opened a new path to love and it’s starting to look… complicated.

Pairing: Chris Evans X Julie (Fictional Character), Sebastian Stan X Julie (FC)

Genre: Romance | Drama

Audience: PG-13…? (Jk there are definitely some F-bombs and inappropriate language that might not be suitable for the young)

Navigation: Masterlist

I woke up to the sunlight streaming in from the window by my bed.

My bed.

I opened my heavy, puffy eyes and the memories of last night came rushing back like a flood. I glanced over at my clock. It read at 12:07 pm. When I looked down, I was still wearing my red evening gown. I got up from the bed and lazily took off my dress letting it fall to the floor. Half-awake, I stumbled into the bathroom and looked at myself.

Most of my eye makeup was intact, but the rest of my face rubbed off somewhere else. I turned on the water and splashed my face awake with the cold water. Once the cold water hit my face, I was back to my old everyday routine. I quickly brushed my teeth and jumped in the shower. By the time I stepped out of the shower, I heard my doorbell ring.

Who was it?

I didn’t order anything knowing that I was going to be in California for the week and the only person who knew I was here was Seb. I would be lying if I admitted that his name didn’t come across my mind. But you know what, I was okay with lying to myself to save myself the teary trouble mess.

I wrapped the towel around me and quickly walked over to the door.

“Hold on!” I shouted at the door as I fumbled with the locks. When I opened it, a young guy with a fluorescent vest and brown cargo shorts and vest was standing with a small brown box in his hands.

“Ms. Julie?” He asked.

“Yes?” I answered back.

He took out a device and handed it to me. “Sign your name there.”

I did what I was told and handed it back to him. “Hi, uh what is this?”

He looked at me confused. “It’s the delivery service, ma’am.”

“I didn’t-“ Before I could finish my sentence he threw the package at me and headed off down the hallway. With the package in my hand, I closed the door behind him. I should be more concerned about random packages arriving at my house. But, I saw Seb’s name scribbled in the From line in the corner. I walked into the kitchen to grab scissors and tore through it. My jaws dropped as an iPhone box stared back at me. I grabbed the small note in the box first.

Happy early birthday gift? Call me when you get it set up. - Seb

The phone was a quick set up process. I was up and running within 30 minutes and it looked like the phone was already linked to an existing number.  I sat on the couch and dialed Seb’s number from memory.

“Jules?” Seb answered.

“Hey,” I said back.

“How are you feeling?” I could pair his facial expression with the way he said that.

“Better,” I paused. “Thank you for last night.”

“Mhm, did you talk to him yet?”

“No,” I answered almost instantaneously. “I don’t plan on it.”

“Okay,” he paused for a quick second and changed the subject. “Well, I’m planning to come tomorrow.”

“To Boston?”

“Yeah, I don’t have any upcoming schedules. I want to check on you.”

“Okay.” I gave in. I didn’t see a point in arguing with him if he was already determined to come. “By the way, let me send you money back for the tickets and the phone.”

“As I said, it’s your early birthday gift.”

“Seb, my birthday is four months away.”

“I know, so don’t forget my gift then.”

I sighed. “Thank you.”

“Okay, I have to go. I’ll call you tonight.”

“Okay.”

And the phone line cut off. I was about to get up and prepare something to eat when my phone buzzed and buzzed. I was receiving the text messages that I missed when my phone went missing yesterday.

Seb: Where are you?

Seb: Are you with Frank?

Seb: Answer your phone

And then, I saw his.

Chris: I need to talk to you. Where are you?

Chris: Are you coming back to the hotel?

Chris: Can you call me?

I dropped my phone next to me, but it felt like I was still staring at it. My mind kept a mental screenshot of the message. I couldn’t find my legs to get up. Deep inside, I knew the depth of the situation. There was a cloud of misunderstanding between us. All I had to do was call him and talk it over like grown adults. But, my fear wouldn’t let me. The confrontation didn’t scare me, but I was scared because didn’t know what it meant for us afterward.

Do we just pick up where we left off? Could I just pick up where we left off?

The answer to the second question I already knew was a no. There was no way I could delete my memory like I didn’t see what I saw. I couldn’t just forget the feeling of being punched in my gut when I saw him across from me. There was nothing that could mend the trail of broken heart pieces.

My tears quietly rolled down my cheeks and dropped on my hands. I got up and walked into the kitchen and grabbed anything I could find. By the time I was back in bed, I couldn’t remember what I ate. I think I heard Seb call, but I wasn’t sure. I didn’t touch the phone that night.

I woke up to the ringing sound of the doorbell. I rolled off the bed and dragged myself to the doorway. It took me a while as I locked and unlocked the door stumbling with my sluggish hands before finally getting it open. I rubbed my tired eyes and my eyes focused on a blurry figure of Seb standing in front of me.

“It’s 5 am, Seb.” I groaned as I turned around and started dragging myself back to my bed.

“Whose fault is that. Why didn’t you answer your phone.”

I turned around and quickly shushed him. “I’m tired.”

“Jules, get up.”

“Julie.”

I rolled to the edge of the bed trying to stop this strange alarm that kept on saying my name. I reached out my hand and felt around for a button, but it started to register in my mind that this didn’t feel like a desk. This wasn’t hard like a solid surface, but a dough-like surface that reminded me of a... body part. My eyes flew open and saw my hands over Seb’s upper left thigh. My eyes quickly scanned up and locked in on his horrified expression.

“SEB!!!” I screamed as my hands flew off and grabbed my covers. I hid underneath my blankets praying it was all just a freaky dream.

I heard him clear his throat, but it honestly sounded like he was choking. Oh god, please tell me this was all just a dream.

“Jesus, Jules. Wake up, it’s 11 am.”

“Let me be!” I blurted out. Underneath the covers, I tried to pinch myself awake. No luck, my arm was hurting like a bitch now.

“Your pancakes are getting cold.”

I peeked over my covers. He was still standing there with his arms crossed. He was wearing a white t-shirt and gray sweatpants. I knew my face was already tomato red. “Pancakes?”

“I grabbed them from Bob and Edith’s down the street. Your favorite, right?”

I nodded.

“I’ll be in the dining room.” He turned and stormed out of my room, closing the door behind him. I slowly rose my body out of the bed, I buried my face in my hands. Way to go, Julie. Way to go.

If I could do whatever I wanted, I would’ve shown up to the table in sunglasses. But, I knew about table manners and I didn’t think Seb would have appreciated my sweatpants, t-shirt, and sunglasses fashion at the table.

Seb was scrolling through his phone when I walked over to the table. That would have bothered me 9 out of 10 times, but I was distracted by the impressive table setting. The table was perfectly set for two with a stack of pancakes on each plate. There was a glass of orange juice by the utensils. When I sat down, Seb placed his phone down.

“Do you always wake up this late?” He asked.

“I’m jet-lagged, okay?”

“Uh-huh,” he said back sarcastically.

Blinded by hunger, I grabbed my fork and knife. Seb waved his hand to signal me to stop. He grabbed the syrup and poured it over the pancakes.

“I don’t know if it’s good cold-”

Before he could finish his sentence and put the syrup container down, I started stuffing my face. As I continued to eat, I heard him chuckle. When I looked up, he was pouring the syrup over his pancakes.

“So, about earlier…” He started to say and I choked on my own food. I reached for the OJ and barely bought myself back to life.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“What about earlier?” I fired back.

“I started your laundry earlier. It looked like you didn’t get to it since you got back.”

“Oh,” I said in relief. I felt the tension release from my body. “It’s been three days, I’ll survive. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Did you think I was going to mention how you basically groped me earlier? I thought it wasn’t a subject for breakfast.”

I immediately felt my face heat up again as I quickly looked down at my food. “I- uh- I don’t know what you are talking about, Seb.”

His laughter filled the empty pockets of space between us. I’ve only been crying around the house since I got back and this was a welcomed change. Minus the reason why he was laughing, I find myself smiling too.

“Hey, look at me.”

I looked up with a stupid smile still on my face. His short rich brown, almost black hair was messily tossed on his head as if he woke up, got dressed, and went to pick up food. Unlike his hair, his beard was well-kept at a perfect length close to his tan skin. His grey-blue eyes met mine and lit up.

“I missed that smile,” he said softly.

“Stop it,” I pushed back jokingly.

His smile faded into seriousness. “I don’t know what to do around you when you cry, Jules.”

“Seb-” I started to speak when he cut me off.

“I didn’t know what to do after your past relationships and I still don’t know what to do.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” I smiled, weakly. “I know it sounds selfish, but I’m just glad that you were always there for me.” I heard my voice crack towards the end of the sentence.

“I,” he started to speak but stopped soon after. He pressed his lips together and leaned back in the chair. “Do you remember what I told you two years ago?”

I didn’t know what he was referring to, so I let him continue.

“I told you that I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

I felt like a ton of bricks just fell on top of me. I didn’t realize I had suppressed these memories so deep inside for two years now.

“I never regretted saying that to you.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“I was happy for you and Chris, but I never stopped thinking about you. I tried to move on,” he paused and diverted his eyes for a second. “But, nothing made me feel like the way I feel with you right now. So, I stayed away. I knew I needed space and all of this happened… and Jules,” he sounded helpless and frustrated. “I don’t know why I still feel like this.”

A short pause.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized. I should have seen the signs. It was true that Seb was busy the past two years with various projects he was working on, but I didn’t know that it was intentional.

“I don’t know what you’re apologizing.”

“It’s my fault.”

“Dammit, Jules. I fell in love with you, how is it your fault?” He asked, raising his voice.

“Because I should’ve seen the signs because I should’ve talked with you to give you the closure you deserved, because I was selfish and adamant on keeping you as a friend, because…” Then, my voice finally gave out. I couldn’t say anything else. I bit my lip to stop myself from becoming a mess. I didn’t want to make this harder on him.

He clenched his jaw and got up from his seat. He crossed over and knelt down next to me. “Hey,” he whispered. I looked down at him and he put his hand over mine on my lap. “I still love Chris like family and I will continue to love you no matter what happens. The bond I have with you and Chris is beyond all of this. Nothing in the world is going to change that.”

I nodded.

“Do you know how you smile around Chris?”

I was confused. I couldn’t follow what point he was trying to make.

“You look at him like you would love him even if someone told you that you would lose everything you have. When you’re around him, you trace him with your eyes. Your gaze never leaves him.”

His shoulders dropped. “You deserve that happiness, Julie.”

“But, I can’t do that Seb,” I said. “I can’t just go back to what Chris and I had.”

“You can,” he replied. “I told him that if he doesn’t beg for forgiveness, I’m going to take you away from him.” He smiled, “I promised him that I was going to take you far away so he can’t ever find you.”  

My heart pained to see him smile and joke like that. I pulled him in and rested my head on his messy head. My tears rolled down the side of my face and onto his soft hair. He leaned in and rested his head on my lap. “It’s late. I know. But, I love you, Julie.”

“Me too,” I whispered as I kissed the top of his head.

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