#peanut butter jelly time on main has never been so real

[shepscapades]

Shrimp check :-)

[musings-of-a-mecha-ghost-girl]

What the actual fuck does it mean to be Greek American and Queer? The only other Queer Greek Americans I know or have ever known are heavily assimilated into white American culture, because they were heavily white-passing/white. You would never know that they had to keep themselves from having unibrows, you would've never known that they don't always eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, you would never know that their grandfather is the best bouzouki player in the entire community/church because they listen to pop top 100.

The other queer Greek people I knew were mostly white-passing bisexual girls, and one young trans man who rightfully detached himself from Greekness because of how his mother treated him.

What does it mean to be one of the Greek Queers who got stopped by TSA more "random" times pre-transition? What does it mean to have hair all over your body as a trans woman? I'll look at a white cis woman who says she understands how i feel because she has a cute happy trail, when my hair runs from bush to tits.

What does it mean to be a Queer Greek American when you don't fit in to white queer circles? They might be open and accepting, but they're not really inviting, because none of them have been on the same journey as you. They might be ex-Catholic or Exvangelicals, they might be witches or atheists... don't get me started on witches and their sense of entitlement to the Hellenic pantheon. If you say "I'm Greek Orthodox", they don't understand why you would still be in the faith you were raised in. They don't understand that your faith is so interwoven into your culture that you don't have much choice. They don't understand that for many Greeks, Albanians, Armenians, and other immigrants, children of immigrants, and grandchildren of immigrants from predominantly Orthodox countries, The Church is our main center of community, the coffee hall is our modern Agora.

You could commune with white witches, but do they know what your ancestors used to offer the gods? That Aphrodite would eat honey treats? The closest thing we have in the modern world are loukoumades and I'd be hard pressed to hear them try to pronounce that. "Hekate has chosen me as a disciple uwu" be so fucking for real right now. She is terrifying, the original definition of awesome, she's not just a goddess of your new-age, good vibes, "daughter of the witches you didn't burn" bullshit, she's a fucking Titan. A primordial deity that even the Olympians feared and respected. Put some fucking respect on her name if you're going to invoke her.

What does it mean to be a Greek American queer when queer Bipoc are rightfully hesitant or suspicious of you in their spaces. No matter how much you relate with them in your struggles and frustrations (to varying degrees of fucking course, because queer Black people will always have a unique perspective and will be the most persecuted among us), because your ancestors, when they came over here in all of their pomp and Hellenic pride, tried to separate themselves from other people of color. When the Greeks came to America, they were not originally seen as remotely white. They were hunted by the KKK, they were the targets of anti Latino and anti Arab discrimination. Instead of standing in unity with other people of color, they decided to try to assimilate into whiteness, but they were too proud to erase themselves entirely from their culture, so you have a Greek Orthodox priest being killed post 9/11 because he was mistaken for a Muslim Arab. You have me being yelled at to go back to either Mexico or Iran, it depends who the oligarchs wanted to weaponize white Americans against that year. So we burned our own bridges to communities who would've accepted us if we hadn't burned our own bridges in order to appease those who don't and never will. That's why we have Greek actors playing in roles about being embarrassed about being Greek (John Stamos in Full House and the entirety of the beloved Big Fat Greek Wedding, to Jennifer Aniston's father changing his last name from Anastasakis). There's even colorism in movies and media where the darker Greek is typically the more loud, emotional, violent, horny man with a broken accent and a poor understanding of American customs while the white Greek is so proper and haha funny, yeah isn't my culture and ethnicity so embarrassing? Isn't my food so weird? Lol Opa!

Anyway, that tangent aside, when you throw Queerness into the already messy identity crisis of being Greek American, what does that even mean? Most of the time it just means loneliness. I'll always be too white for poc, who I relate more with in a cultural and struggles based level, too non white for white people, who are more welcoming, but it comes at a price, and too faggy for Greek people who so desperately want to appeal to the fascists because they don't realize that they're not as far down the list as they'd like to think.

[study-coffee-chicago]

Seasons of Med: Season 2 and Seasons of PD: Season 4: Necessities, Love, & Care (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead Sister! Imagine)

Your age: 15

Jay's age: 29

Will's age: 31

You were currently sitting at the library, trying to figure out how you'd get food for dinner. It was January and you had run out of your Christmas money two weeks ago and you had burned through your money from helping with kettle corn at the beginning of December. Right now you were SOL: Shit outta luck.

Your mind wandered back to the last day you had helped working the kettle corn stand when it was a dreary late October day.

"We have kettle corn, caramel corn, cheddar, Chicago style, and a few other flavors," you explained to a customer. She picked up a medium bag of caramel corn. "That one?"

"Yes, dear. Me and my husband love this stuff," the old lady said.

"I'm sure. It's really good! It'll be six dollars." She pulled out a five and two ones. "I'll be right back with your change."

"Oh, no, keep the change, dear. Thank you for the popcorn."

"You're welcome. Have a nice day."

"Y/N," Emma said to you. "Can you grab me a lemonade from the cooler?"

"Just one?"

"Yup, just one."

You grabbed it from the cooler and were about to pass it to her when you saw who her customers were: Jay and Erin.

"Y/N?" Jay asked. "What are you doing here?"

"Working," you answered quickly. "Little bit of extra money never hurt anybody. The real question is, what are you doing here? I know Erin hates being outside when the weather is crappy."

"It's because he's annoying when he whines and begs to do something, so I figured it was just best to give in," Erin answered.

Jay rolled his eyes. "God, I can't win with either of you. Why do you always gang up on me?"

"Because, Halstead, us girls gotta stick together," Erin laughed.

"Okay, okay, fine. Y/N, what popcorn should I get?"

"First of all, it's kettle corn," you corrected. "And, I suggest the cheddar. Or, if you want a combination of both salty and sweet, then get the Chicago style. It's cheddar and caramel."

"Me and Erin like sweet, but I know you. You like cheddar. And you'll pick out the cheddar pieces when you're at my apartment, so I'll get the Chicago style."

"Or," Erin started as she picked up a large bag of caramel and a large bag of cheddar, "We could get this big bag of caramel, and then you could have this bag at your apartment for Y/N. That way the flavors aren't touching."

"Erin Lindsay and not liking her food touching. Fine, we'll take what Erin suggested and one lemonade."

"One or two straw holes?" Emma asked, picking up the lid-punching tool.

"One's fine," Jay answered.

"They swap enough spit as it is," you whispered to Emma, causing her to laugh.

"What'd she say?" Jay asked.

"I can't tell you. It's a secret."

He huffed. "Fine. Keeping secrets from your big brother? That's cold Y/N, that's cold."

"So you're saying you never kept secrets from Will?" Erin asked.

"I have the right to remain silent."

"Exactly," Erin said. "How much does he owe you?"

"Excuse me? I didn't know I'd be the one paying for all of this."

"You were the one who dragged me outside, so yes, you are paying, Halstead. Now, get your card ready."

Jay rolled his eyes and pulled out his wallet. "How much?"

You did the math in your head. "$23."

"Emma, can you check her math?" Jay asked and you rolled your eyes in his lack of faith in you.

"$10 for the cheddar and $8 for the caramel makes $18...plus $5 for the lemonade...yup $23."

You handed him the card reader. "And now it's just going to ask you a few questions," you told him after his card went through.

Without allowing him to read it all the way through, Erin hit the tip and no receipt buttons. "Hey!" Jay exclaimed.

"Don't blame me! You were the one who wanted me to come out here!" She turned to you and took the bag of kettle corn as Jay picked up the 32 oz lemonade. "Thanks, Y/N!"

"No problem! Just make sure he doesn't buy any more paintings of motorcycles!"

Man, how you wished you could work that job right now because it was only for a few hours on the weekends. But, it was winter now, so there were no street fairs, farmers markets, or festivals going on. Because of this, your money had run out. You'd have to do what you'd have to get yourself some food, even if it would leave you with a guilty conscience.

With that in mind, you got up and left the library.

***

"Pop's been complaining of chest pain and refuses to go to the hospital," Jay told his older brother as he walked through the front door and into the living room.

"Of course he did," Will grumbled. Then, he turned to his father. "This won't take long. Unless it's bad. Then you'll have to come with me and actually go to the hospital this time."

"You can't force me to do anything," he argued as he watched his oldest son open up his medical bag.

"Just let him do his job. He knows what he's doing," Jay agreed with Will. Then, he remembered something. "Where's Y/N?"

"At school."

"At school? At 5 pm?" Jay asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Sometimes she stays after school and does homework. She's always home before it gets too late so I don't ask."

It's not like Jay and Will could have known this, though. Yes, you would talk and they're obviously there for you because they're your brothers, but your dad's parenting skills--or lack thereof--hadn't ever come up. You'd get together with your brothers once a week, but it was usually at one of your brothers' places. They rarely came inside your and your dad's place.

"All units, we have reports of a robbery at 3020 East Main Street. Assistance requested," Jay's radio stated.

Jay looked to Will, silently asking if it was okay for him to take it. "I've got it from here."

"Thanks, man," Jay said, clapping Will on the back and leaving the house.

He drove to the small corner market that had made the call. It was only a block away from where you and your dad lived, but despite it usually being somewhat slow, today it was even slower. There was only one car parked in the lot, so Jay was confused as to who would even rob this place.

He put on his vest and walked into the store. "Got a call about a robbery," he said to the store manager as he entered.

"Yes, right over here."

He led Jay over to where a girl was sitting on a stool, tears rolling down her face. She held a box of pasta, a loaf of bread, and a small jar of peanut butter. Her coat was unzipped, revealing the tampons and pads she had stuffed inside her coat after she had ripped open the box.

"Y/N?" Jay asked in disbelief. "What are you doing? What were you even thinking?"

"I- I'm sorry," you sniffled.

Then he turned to the store manager. "You called the cops on a fifteen-year-old girl for grabbing what looks to me like necessities?"

"I've let her go the past two times when she needed things, but today she didn't have the money, so I couldn't let it slide."

Jay threw $30 in the man's hand. "There. Now it's all paid for." He turned to you and took the loaf of bread. "C'mon."

You followed him out of the store, waiting to be yelled at as you entered his truck, but it didn't come. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he handed you the bread. "Why? Why did you do this?"

"There- There's barely any food in the house. I was just hungry."

Jay looked you up and down. He hadn't been really looking for changes in weight like he told Natalie he would do six months ago. He kept it up for a few months and then winter came around and it was hard to tell because of bulky jackets and sweaters. But, now that he actually looked at your face and hands in an investigative manner, it was clear as day: You had lost even more weight.

"And the other stuff?" he asked.

"Dad won't buy them for me. Says that they're too expensive and to just use something else. He said that if he had had a son he wouldn't have to worry about it, like it's my fault. Usually, I take some from school, but I ran out and I needed them."

"And the food?" Jay asked as he started driving back to his childhood home.

"I get breakfast and lunch at school, but I have to eat dinner at home. And on weekends I just skip meals and eat breakfast and dinner."

"What? What about Dad?"

"He gets takeout or he goes to the bar and isn't home until late."

Jay sighed as he pulled into the driveway. "Go pack a bag, kid. You're staying at my place until further notice."

"Really? I thought you guys forgot about me?"

"We could never forget about you. It's just, work has been busy for both of us. So, sorry if these last few times we've all been together for dinner have seemed a little rushed. Now, go inside and grab your stuff while I have a chat with Will and Dad."

"Dad, Will," Jay said after you had run upstairs and they were sitting on the couch. "I need to talk to you. In the kitchen."

"Really, Jay. Why can't it be here?" your dad grumbled. "First he--" He pointed to Will. "Wants to take me to the hospital because he said I have a valve issue and now I can't even have a conversation with my sons while sitting down?"

"Just get up, dammit!"

The three entered the kitchen and sat down, but Jay stayed standing. "Jay, what's going on?" Will asked.

Instead of answering his older brother, Jay just opened the fridge. There was a half drank gallon of milk, a jar of grape jelly, and a can of pasta sauce, along with other condiments, and a lone egg sat on a shelf. "This? This is what you expect your daughter to eat? I caught her stealing from a store just so she could get food and tampons!"

"Well, I'm not gonna pay for it."

"Excuse you?" Will exclaimed, eyebrows raised in surprise. "What do you mean you're not paying for it? She's your daughter, isn't she? Then you have a legal responsibility to feed her, make sure she has shelter, clothes, and goes to school!"

"She can go get a job."

"She is fucking fifteen!" Jay yelled. "She doesn't need to be worrying about where her next meal is coming from! She's supposed to be worrying about getting a good grade on a math test or if that boy likes her or not, but not that!"

"She needs to learn to grow up someday. And she won't if you boys baby her like you always do whenever you see her."

"Baby her?" Will yelled, disgusted. "She's a kid. She needs to be babied sometimes. She needs fucking food and a nice home to come home to, not whatever the hell you think this is."

"It hasn't been a home since your mother died."

"Yeah, we gathered that," Jay scoffed. "But you don't have to take it out on her."

"Jay," your small voice said from the doorway into the kitchen. All three men looked over to you, your backpack on your back, a duffle bag slung over your shoulder, and your favorite blanket wadded up in your hands so that you could carry it without it dragging on the ground.

"Ready to go?" Jay asked, his voice immediately softening.

"Uh, yeah," you answered, unsure of how your dad would react.

"What do you mean ready to go?" Pat Halstead asked, standing up from where he had been previously sitting at the table. "She's not going anywhere!"

Will rushed over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder while Jay stalked over to be face to face with your dad. "She is coming with me until further notice. You're lucky I don't arrest your ass for child neglect!"

"You wouldn't do that to your own father!"

Jay pulled the cuffs out of his back pocket. "Oh yeah? Try me."

He sat back down and Jay turned to you. "Here, let me take that." You handed him your duffle bag and followed him and Will outside.

"Jay, I gotta go. I gotta get Dad to Med to get the valve fixed. And, I said one hour out of the hospital tops and it's been two."

Jay closed the truck door once you were safely inside with all your stuff. "Good luck trying to get Dad to go the hospital," he scoffed. "Get going. Don't give Goodwin another reason to fire your stupid ass."

"I'll call an ambulance if I have to." Then, Will smacked Jay upside the head.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"You know what it was for. And, I'm your older brother, it's my job."

"I'm your older brother, it's my job," Jay mocked. "But, in all seriousness, do me a favor and make sure Y/N's all caught up on her immune- immune--"

"Immunizations?" Will laughed.

"Yeah, those."

"I'll do that. And if she's not, I'll give them to her tonight when I come over to your place after my shift is done...which will be in like two hours...depending on how much of a pain in the ass he is to get in the hospital."

Jay nodded, and then got in the truck, both of you making your way to his place.

"I'm gonna go take a shower," Jay said after you had put your stuff down by the couch. "You have homework?"

"Yeah," you looked down, not wanting to even try and struggle through your homework...or have Jay sign the slip that said that you failed your last test.

Jay smiled. "I'll help you with it when I'm out of the shower, okay, kid?"

"How'd you know--"

"That is the universal facial expression of I need help, but I don't know how to ask for it. I'll be ten minutes tops."

And so, you tried to struggle through your homework for ten minutes. But, you ended up working and reworking the stupid algebra problem. Why did math need letters anyway?

"Okay, I'm back," Jay said as he pulled a chair out to sit next to you. "What are you workin' on?"

"Can you sign this first?" you asked, sliding the yellow paper over to him along with the pen. You hoped he'd just sign it blind, but as you saw his eyes skimming the page, you knew that wouldn't happen.

"Did you try your best?" he asked as he slid the piece of paper back to you after signing it.

"What? Yeah, of course, I did."

"Okay, then we'll figure something out. Now, how about we eat some dinner? I've got pizza in the freezer. That okay?"

"That's great," you answered.

Jay got the pizza in the oven while you went and changed into your pajamas. You decided it was in your best interest to have Will help you with your math homework.

***

"Ah! The man of the hour!" Jay exclaimed as he pulled out the pizza and Will entered the house.

You immediately noticed the red bag he was carrying over his shoulder and the two king-sized Twix bars.

"Why do you have your medical bag?" you asked.

"How did you know this was my medical bag?"

"I'm not stupid, Will."

"Okay, so you're all caught up on your shots, but I need to do a blood draw because I need to see if you're deficient in any vitamins and minerals. Have you been eating enough fruits and veggies?" he asked.

"Probably not as much as I should," you admitted. "They're too expensive unless I get the canned kind and I don't like those unless it's canned peaches. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Short Stack. None of this is your fault. You hear me? None of it. I just need to take the blood and then get it sent to the lab to see if you need to get any specific pills to get your vitamin and mineral levels up."

"Okay. Does it hurt?" you asked. You knew what a shot felt like, but you'd never had your blood drawn before, so you didn't know what it felt like to have a needle in your arm for a long time, taking blood. You knew what it felt like to have an IV in from when you passed out at the movie theater, but you didn't know if this needle would be the same size or bigger.

"You just feel a slight pinch at the beginning."

"Like getting a shot?"

"Like getting a shot," he confirmed.

"Hey, I was thinking," Jay started as he reappeared from the kitchen area, "what if we have celery and carrots with ranch for dinner, too? You know, like when we eat chicken wings at restaurants and they bring you some veggies, except we'll have ours with pizza."

"Okay," you agreed. "I like ranch."

"So does everyone in the midwest," Will joked.

"What's the medical bag for?" Jay asked. "She needs shots? And, what's with the Twix bars?"

"No, I'm drawing her blood to see if she's deficient in anything. And, there's one Twix bar for her and one for you because we all know how you feel about needles, Jay."

Jay rolled his eyes. "We doing this before we eat?"

"Yes. And, I need you to answer some questions for me, Y/N. These are strictly doctor protocol questions, okay? You don't need to be embarrassed about any of the answers."

You nodded.

"Okay," Will started, "When did you last eat? Just need to write it down for fasting glucose levels."

"Um, lunch at school, so around noon."

"So, six-hour fast," Will scribbled down on a piece of paper. "Next one, are you sexually active?"

"Will!"

"It's just standard protocol, just in case I need to test for STDs."

"No, I am not. Next question."

"Okay, last one: When was your last period?"

"You've got to be kidding me. I'm not pregnant, I haven't had sex!"

Will chuckled. "It's not for that. Sometimes when people are deficient in vitamins and minerals, they can lose their period for months at a time, signaling that their body isn't healthy. The medical term is amenorrhea." But, what he wanted to say was that when girls are underweight, this can also happen. And, from seeing how baggy your sweatshirt and jeans were on you, he assumed that you'd lost ten pounds since last going to the doctor when you passed out in the movie theater parking lot, making your weight loss a grand total of 25 pounds, which would qualify you as being underweight.

"Oh. I started today."

"Okay, good to know. Any changes in length or heaviness of menstruation?"

"I swear, I'd rather have Natalie or April be asking me these questions," you grumbled. "But, yes, it's a lot lighter and it went from me having my periods for five days to two days. Can we please stop talking about this now?"

"Yeah, we're all done. Sorry about that, but it's protocol."

"Says the guy who's drawing my blood at Jay's apartment instead of in a hospital, where it should be done."

"Hey, I've worked in much worse conditions than this in Sudan. How much water did you drink today?"

"A lot."

"Okay, good." Will started to unzip his medical bag. He passed a Twix bar to Jay. "Here, eat this and focus on it so you don't focus on the needles and then freak out."

Jay rolled his eyes, but took the candy bar and unwrapped it.

"Do I get one?" you asked.

"Once I draw your blood, yes, the other one is for you. Now, right or left arm?"

You held out your left arm and Will moved to the other side of you so he had a better angle. He sanitized his hands and then snapped on a pair of gloves.

"So, what do you do?" you asked. "I've never had my blood drawn before."

"I just tie off your arm so that I can get the veins to show a bit better, wipe down the spot with an antiseptic wipe, stick the needle in, and then wait for the vial to fill up."

"That's it?"

"That's it. Can you make a fist with your left hand for me?"

You did as Will told you and then he tied a band around your bicep and started touching the inside of your elbow, trying to get some veins to show. He furrowed his eyebrows and moved down your arm, rubbing your forearm and then going back up to the crook of your elbow and gently pressing there.

"What's wrong?" you asked.

"You just have really small veins is all. I could take the blood from the big vein in your forearm, but I don't really want to do that one since it's so big. Can you squeeze your fist tighter for me?" You did as he said while he kept pressing on the crook of your elbow. "There we go. Got one. Now, turn and look at Jay while I get the needle ready."

You looked at Jay and tried not to laugh. "You okay?"

"Me? I should be asking you that," he replied. "You're the one who's about to get stabbed with a needle."

"It's just that you got some sweat on your forehead. You look nervous."

"They're needles. They're tiny little sharp metal objects and if one breaks off--"

"Jay, respectfully," Will started, cutting off his brother, "shut the hell up, so you don't scare my patient. You might just want to look away instead of watching me. Then you might feel fine." Then, he turned back to you. "Okay, Y/N, keep looking at Jay. Close your eyes if you want to. You're going to feel a small pinch."

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Then, you squeezed your eyes shut tightly and grit your teeth, trying not to yell out as the needle pierced your skin.

"Hard part's done," Will said. You nodded, still keeping your eyes closed.

"That was not a small pinch," you retorted about a minute later.

"Sorry."

You opened your eyes and watched as the blood flowed from your vein into the small tube that was hooked up to the needle.

"I thought you hated blood," Jay pointed out. "And here you are, watching the entire process."

"I'm fine when it's my blood if it's not a huge, deep cut," you explained. "It's other people's blood I don't like."

"Well, that takes any job in the medical field off your career choices," Will said.

You sat there for a few more minutes, waiting for the vial to fill up. Will pressed on your arm, close to the needle, to see if more would come out. "This vein is really small," he said.

You watched as the blood coming into the tube started becoming slower and slower, in what looked to be bubbles.

"Just a little more," Will muttered.

You started taking deeper breaths as you felt sweat start to bead on your forehead.

"Okay, let's see how much this gave me." He pressed his thumb above where the needle was and you turned back to Jay as he removed the needle.

Then, he got the blood into the vial. "Bad news," he started, "I might need to take more. Let's see how much extra there is." He put the extra into another, smaller vial. "Yeah, this one clotted too, so bad news, we need more."

You nodded and closed your eyes, feeling your face get hot and starting to feel lightheaded. You pinched the bridge of your nose, willing this uncomfortable feeling to go away.

"You doing okay?" Will asked.

"Yeah," you answered.

"Okay, I'm gonna do your right arm this time." You held your right arm out to him. "Make a fist for me." You did as he told you and he tied the blue band around your bicep.

But, you were getting even dizzier. "Actually, can I get some water? I feel dizzy."

"Course," Will said. "Jay, can you get her some water and juice if you have any?"

"Apple juice good?"

"That's fine," you answered.

Will untied the band from your bicep. "We're just going to wait a few minutes until you feel less dizzy before I take more blood, okay?"

You nodded and took the water from Jay when he came back.

"Let's have the juice after I finish," Will suggested after a few minutes had passed and you finished the water. "Feeling better, Short Stack?"

"Yeah, let's get this over with." Your forehead was still a bit sweaty, but you were a lot less dizzy.

Will repeated the same process as the last arm and it went a lot faster. Turns out he picked a bit bigger vein in the crook of your elbow of this arm than he did the other one.

"And, we're done," Will said as he capped the vial.

He handed you the juice. "Thanks," you said. "That was not fun."

"I bet. At least you didn't pass out. I've had a few patients do that when I went through my clinicals. That's why normally when someone gets their blood drawn, they sit in this chair where something is flipped down in front of them so they don't fall out of the chair just in case they pass out."

"Jay, do you pass out?" you asked.

He scoffed. "No. I don't even get dizzy. My body doesn't react like that."

"He just breaks out into a sweat whenever he sees needles," Will whispered, loud enough for Jay to hear.

"Hey! I heard that! Take one more jab at me and you won't be getting any pizza, Will. I mean it!"

Will held his hands up in a mock surrender while you finished up your juice. Then, Will started to pack up his medical stuff and Jay brought the pizza and veggies and ranch out, along with plates of course.

You ate your pizza while Will helped you with your math homework. Once you finished two slices of pizza and some celery and ranch, you said that you were done.

"You sure?" Jay asked. "You can have as much as you want."

"I'm good. Gotta save some for tomorrow." Your eyes widened as you realized what you had just said. "I'm gonna go take a shower. It's been a long day."

"Okay, clean towels are in the cabinet in the bathroom where they always are," Jay said, trying not to react to what you had just said even though he knew exactly what you were doing.

You were rationing food.

"Fuck," Jay said as he put his head in his hands when he knew you were in the bathroom and out of earshot.

"What? What did she mean by gotta save some for tomorrow?" Will asked.

"She's rationing it. I used to do it in Afghanistan. Save some of my MRE and put it in my pack to eat the next day if I was on a long trek and we knew we wouldn't get back to base. It would be cold and usually disgusting, but I'd choke it down because it was calories and I needed fuel to be sharp in case we came in contact with combatants."

"Poor kid. At least we had Mom."

Jay nodded. "What happened with Dad at the hospital?"

"Had to have a mitral valve replacement because his wasn't working properly. Told him over and over to get his checked regularly, but he didn't because he's stubborn. He went for the non-surgical option first, but then there were complications, so Rhodes performed surgery. He's fine."

"That's good... I guess." Jay glanced around and he saw your duffle bag sitting outside the bathroom door. You had grabbed your clothes to bring them into the bathroom and left your open duffle bag by the door.

Jay stood up and started walking towards it.

"What are you doing?" Will hissed.

"I need to see if she's got anything else in there that will help prove neglect. I'm assuming it needs to be proved...I only know criminal court cases, don't know much about family court cases."

"What do you mean family court? You're going to fight Dad to be able to take care of her?"

"Yeah, I'll fight to be her legal guardian. Unless you want to do it. My loan went through for a new apartment, which has two bedrooms, so I figured I might be better suited."

"Go ahead. You'd probably have a better chance anyway because you were around more when I was in New York."

Jay nodded and started to dig around your duffle bag. He chuckled and pulled out your Build-A-Bear. "She still sleeps with Beary," he said as he held up the stuffed bear. "Probably doesn't change his clothes anymore because she's too old for that, but he's in pajamas."

"Remember that military uniform you got for her bear? Mom said she barely took Beary out of that because she missed you so much."

"Yeah, and if she wouldn't have dropped him at the airport, I might not have met Mouse."

The two fell into a comfortable silence as he continued to dig through your bag. He got to a big zip-lock bag full of pieces of fabric that were stained light reds and browns.

"Will, c'mere," Jay said, waving him over. Will squatted down next to Jay. "You know what this is?"

Will sighed. "Unfortunately, yes. I saw a lot of this when I worked in Sudan."

"Well, what is it?"

"So, when girls don't have access or money to buy feminine hygiene products, they'll use scraps of fabric and wash them. Looks to me like she cut up some, um, she cut up some underwear and then used them as make-shift pads. If they aren't taken care of properly, she could end up with an infection. And, if she tried to use them as tampons instead of pads, it could lead to TSS, which stands for Toxic Shock Syndrome."

"We're gonna have to talk to her about this now, aren't we?"

"Unfortunately, yeah. She's not gonna be happy you dug through her stuff, so I'll let you explain why you were going through it. And, if she used them as tampons, I want her to get a pelvic exam, just to make sure she didn't get any infections. Much more likely to get an infection from tampons than pads."

Jay nodded. He hated having the current conversation and knew he was going to hate the next one even more, but he knew he had to do these things if he wanted to petition the court for legal guardianship.

Jay picked up your duffle bag and brought it to the living room and he set the zip-lock bag full of pieces of fabric on top.

"I can't believe we missed this," Will said. "I mean, we're both trained in how to spot abuse and we couldn't even spot it in our little sister."

"There weren't outright signs," Jay said. "No bruising, limping, cuts, burns, nothing like that. And, it's winter, it's easy to hide the weight loss. But, I still agree with you. If we would've spotted it earlier, we could've gotten her out of there."

"I'm pretty sure she's officially underweight now."

Jay ran a hand through his hair and then stood back up. "I'm gonna go put clean sheets on my bed. I'll let Y/N take it tonight so that we can keep talking out here when she goes to sleep."

"Good idea."

A few minutes later, Jay was back on the couch next to Will and you walked out of the bathroom, wearing a baggy t-shirt and some sweatpants that you had to keep pulling up because they were too big on you now, and a pair of fuzzy socks. You were cold all the time now and wanted your hoodie out of your duffle and wanted to put your dirty clothes in there, but when you looked down to the spot where you thought you had put it, it wasn't there.

"Guys?" you asked. "Have you seen my bag?"

You walked over to the kitchen table where your blanket was sitting on the chairs and wrapped that around yourself instead.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you saw your brothers on the couch, your duffle bag in front of them on the floor, and on top, your bag of ripped-up, old underwear that you used as pads when you didn't have any.

"You went through my stuff?" you asked, starting to become angry.

"Y/N," Jay started, "I know you're mad and it was me who went through it and not Will, so don't be mad at him, be mad at me. But, I went through it to see if anything was in there that could help me get you out of dad's house. Permanently."

"You- You want to have custody of me?" you asked.

A small smile appeared on Jay's lips and he nodded. "It wouldn't be considered custody because I'm not your biological parent, it would be considered guardianship, but yes, I want you to stay with me. And, my loan went through for a new apartment, so you'd have your own room and everything."

"Okay."

Jay looked at Will, not wanting to be the one to start this conversation. And, he figured Will would be the best one to start it because he was a doctor.

"Y/N, we need to ask you about these." Will motioned to the zip-lock bag on top of your stuff.

You sat in the loveseat across from them and looked down at your feet.

"It's okay, you're not in trouble," Will continued. "We just want to know how you used them in case you need to get a pelvic exam to check for infections in that area."

Your lip began to tremble as tears started to roll down your cheeks. "I used them as pads," you said quietly. "Dad wouldn't buy me any and I stopped getting them from school because I thought they'd suspect something was wrong if I- if I kept taking them."

"One more question," Will said softly. "I just need to know in case we need to take you in for this. I know you said you used them as pads, but did you ever try and use them as tampons?"

"No. I only used them as pads," you whispered. "I was scared to use them as tampons." You looked up at your brothers, who both had tears in their eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you rushed. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner I was just--" You let out a wail and Jay got up and knelt in front of you.

"Hey, hey, none of this is your fault. Do you hear me? Absolutely none of this is on you. It's all on Dad. Every single bit of it. You are not the one to blame."

You launched yourself into his arms, crying out every emotion you had felt these past few months: anger, frustration, fear, sadness, it was all coming out now.

And, Jay just held you and let you cry it out because that was what your guys' mom used to do for him. And, he knew it worked.

Twenty minutes later, your wails were just quiet whimpers and you pushed yourself back up onto the loveseat, where Will had moved to the spot next to you. He wrapped an arm around you and you leaned into him, craving the comfort that had been denied to you for so long.

"You still have that Twix bar?" you asked.

"All that crying made you hungry, didn't it, Short Stack?" Will asked as Jay got up to retrieve the candy bar from the table.

You nodded.

"Thank you," you said when Jay handed you the Twix bar. You unwrapped it and broke it into the two sticks. "You guys want any?" They both shook their heads: they knew you needed to get as many calories in you as possible.

Jay sighed, he might as well get this hard conversation over with you tonight as well. "Y/N, you can eat as much as you want. I won't say anything about you eating too much, okay?"

You looked up from your candy bar. "You won't call me a burden because I'm eating your food? Like Dad did?"

"He said that?" Will asked, giving Jay a look that read when I see him next, I can't be held accountable for my actions.

"Yeah. One time there were some leftovers he had gotten from a bar and I was so hungry and it was the middle of the night, so I took them out and heated them up. The microwave timer must've woken him up because he came out just as I was about to start eating and then he yelled at me for eating his food and called me a burden."

"Well, we don't think that. Neither Will nor me think that," Jay told you. "And you can eat as much as you want."

You yawned as you crumpled up your Twix wrapper.

"Tired?" Will asked.

"Yeah," you mumbled.

"It's been a long day," Jay said. "You can take my bed."

"Jay, it's your apartment, I can't--"

"Y/N, this isn't up for discussion. I already put clean sheets on the bed for you."

"Is- Is there a fan in your room? I can't sleep without white noise."

"There is. You want me and Will to tuck you in?"

"I'm too old for that." You stood up and Will did, too. "Jay, can you hand me Beary? He should be in my duffle."

"Here you go, kid."

You took your bear and held him loosely in your arm. Then, you enveloped Jay in a hug and did the same for Will.

"I love you guys."

"We love you, too," Will said.

"Now get to sleep. You've still got school in the morning. I'll be here when you wake up."

"Dad sometimes wouldn't be home when I woke up for school. He'd be at a friend's house sleeping off a hangover from the night before or just sleeping."

Jay furrowed his eyebrows. "Doesn't he have to work?"

"He does work, but only a few days a week. The other days, he stays out really late and then comes home either drunk or hungover."

"I see," Jay stated. "Well I won't be doing that, I can promise you that."

"I know. You aren't like Dad. Neither of you are." You yawned again. "I'm going to bed, goodnight."

A few minutes later, you were out like a light and Will was still at Jay's apartment.

"So, Abby called me the other day," Will started. "She's looking for you. Says she's in town for a few days and wants to meet up."

"Oh yeah? She say why?" Jay asked, wondering why his ex-wife--who was the result of a blackout drunk wedding in Vegas, a thing that lasted only 24 hours tops--was in Chicago and was looking for him of all people.

"She said you two are still married."

Jay threw his head back against the couch and closed his eyes. "You have got to be fucking kidding me."

***

"Morning," Jay said as he stood at the stove flipping some eggs. "Sleep good?"

"I slept really good. Didn't even hear you wake up."

"Fan did the trick then?"

You nodded and grabbed a mug from the cupboard and went to start pouring yourself a cup of coffee.

"Nuh-uh," Jay chirped, putting his hand on the handle of the coffee pot as well.

"Why not? I drank it at Dad's."

Jay raised an eyebrow. "You drank coffee at Dad's?"

"Yeah, on the weekends sometimes that would be my breakfast because it curbs my appetite and there wasn't a lot to eat."

Jay sighed. "Well, you'll have enough to eat here, I can promise you that. And, coffee stunts your growth."

"Jay," you groaned. "I haven't grown since sixth grade."

"Okay, well, then you don't want to become dependent on it at such an early age, then. Come talk to me when you're a legal adult or in college."

"Fine." You let go of the coffee pot and put the mug back in the cupboard.

"You can have juice though." The toast in the toaster popped up and Jay placed the toast on a plate and then put a slice of cheese on each piece and then an egg on top. He also put a small bowl of strawberries next to it. "I'm gonna go get dressed while you eat. And then, once you're ready, I'll take you to school."

"Okay, thanks, Jay."

"You're welcome, kiddo."

You rolled your eyes at the nickname and then went to the fridge to get the apple juice. When you opened the fridge, you saw a brown paper bag with your name on it. Curiosity got the best of you, so you took it out and looked at the contents while you ate your breakfast.

Inside was a ham and Colby jack cheese sandwich with lettuce, pickles, mustard, and mayonnaise, an apple, a coconut-flavored Greek yogurt, celery with peanut butter, and a chocolate chip granola bar. There were also two dollars at the bottom of the bag paperclipped together with a sticky note stuck to the top.

For chocolate milk. ~Jay was what the note read.

Tears sprung to your eyes as you continued to eat your breakfast. You don't remember the last time you brought a lunch to school; you'd always get your lunch for free at school. When you got the paper from school about the free/reduced lunch because teachers noticed you didn't have much to eat, you waited until your dad was hungover and it was early in the morning, and handed him a pen and he signed the paper blindly. And, that's how you got lunch and breakfast at school without any cost to you or your dad.

"Hey, I can just brush my teeth at the kitchen sink if you want the bathroom--" He cut himself off when he saw the tears in your eyes. "What's wrong?"

"You- You made me lunch?" you asked as you turned to face him.

He smiled. "Of course I did. I know how bad cafeteria food can be. And, if it tastes good, it's usually not very good for you."

"Thank you," you said as you wiped a tear away that had rolled down your cheek.

"Aww, hey, don't cry, don't cry. It's okay. You're safe now. You don't need to worry about where your next meal will come from. And, I'm going to petition a judge for legal guardianship in a few days. I just have to have a few conversations with some lawyers."

"Does this mean you have to move? I don't want to kick you out of your apartment."

Jay dismissed that with a wave. "I already put in a loan application for a new apartment. Two bedrooms. Really nice."

"Can you tell me about it? While I finish eating my strawberries."

Jay nodded and sat down in the chair across from you. "It's a two-bedroom, washer, dryer. But, I know you don't care about those things. There's underground parking. It's got a gym, a whole club level, with like a coffee lounge, and all this other stuff."

"That sounds really nice."

"Yeah, it is a pretty nice building. Coffee lounge would be perfect for you to get your homework done if you don't feel like staying in the apartment."

"I thought you said I couldn't drink coffee?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I meant the caffeine in the coffee. Decaf coffee and lattes and tea lattes, that's a different story. I'm sure they have pastries there, too."

"Never pegged you for a coffee snob," you joked.

"You learn a lot about coffee and about a person when you have to get your entire unit coffee. I'll let you in on a little secret: Ruzek's coffee order is the most complicated."

"Really?"

"Really. Now, go finish getting ready. Don't want you being late for school."

***

"Hey, Er, can you meet me at the diner we usually go to?" Jay asked his girlfriend over the phone after he had dropped you off at school.

"Yeah, no problem. Give me fifteen minutes. We haven't caught a case yet, but we should keep our radios on just in case. Everything okay?"

"It's a long story. I'll explain everything in person, okay?"

"Okay," Erin answered skeptically. "I'll see you in a few."

Fifteen minutes later on the dot, Erin walked into the little diner and spotted Jay sitting in the corner booth.

"Alright, what's going on?" she asked after she had ordered her food and some coffee. "You sounded really stressed on the phone."

Jay sighed. "I'm going to fight for legal guardianship of Y/N."

"What? Why? What happened?" Erin asked as she widened her eyes.

"Our dad, he uh, he hasn't really been the greatest. Not keeping food in the house, calling her a burden when she tries to eat some of his food, not buying her products for you know...girl stuff. She's probably lost like 25 pounds since the end of last school year. And, I know that doesn't sound like a lot with the amount of time that's passed, but she's underweight. Will drew some of her blood last night to see if she's deficient in some vitamins or minerals."

"My God."

"Yeah, so, I know we were going to move into your place together, but I need another bedroom and my loan went through at that place I told you about, so I'm going to put an offer in there. You could always move in with me if you want, but I don't know if it would be a good idea for that to happen right away. I just want to get Y/N healthy again. I'm sorry."

"Jay, I get it. She's family. Do you know how you're going to go about this? Did you talk to Voight about taking any time off to sort this out?"

"Not yet. But, I think I'm going to call Antonio and see if he can help me out with getting a meeting with ASA Stone. I know he works criminal cases, but he's gotta know some stuff about family court cases. So, I figured he might be able to help me with this whole process."

"Good idea. If you need any help, just say the word and I'll be there."

Jay smiled. "Thanks, Er." He didn't want to have the conversation he was about to have, but he knew he had to tell her. "There's uh, there's one more thing I need to tell you."

"Okay, what is it?"

"About eight years ago, I was married."

"Excuse me, what? You were married and you didn't tell me?"

Jay knew this was a bad idea...which was why he hadn't wanted to tell Erin, but now that he wasn't officially divorced for whatever reason, he knew needed to tell her. "Just let me explain."

"Yes, please do," Erin sneered.

"Her name's Abby. She ran Cultural Support during my last tour in Kandahar. About a year after I came home, I saw her at a funeral in Vegas. Was... was a guy in our unit, he had redeployed, and, um, he didn't... Um, I was, like, blacking out most nights, and we were both pretty shook up. And, um, we got married." He chuckled at the thought of his twenty-one-year-old self thinking that marriage was a good idea. "It was, like, a 24-hour thing, it was a total joke, and it is long over."

Erin just stared at him, as he waited to be chewed out by her. "Jay, you married this girl. And you never told me, and you were never gonna tell me," was all she said.

"I know. And, I'm sorry. But, I'm meeting up with her in a few days to sign the documents that I thought I'd signed because she's getting married and we need to make the divorce official...even though, in my mind, it's been official for eight years.

"Er, please don't hate me, but with everything going on, with me trying to get guardianship of Y/N and me finding out that I'm somehow still married--"

"You want us to take a break?" Erin asked, finishing his sentence for him.

Jay nodded. "I'm sorry. I just don't think I can juggle a relationship with all this other stuff. And, it's not fair to you."

Erin swallowed. "Well, just tell me if you need any help with Y/N. I'll always be there for you. Relationship or partnership, I'll always have your six."

"And I'll always have yours."

Erin's phone buzzed on the table and she picked it up. "It's Voight. We caught a case."

Jay laid some bills on the table. "Then let's go."

***

"Got the results of Y/N's bloodwork back," Will told Jay over the phone while he had a quick break for lunch...even though it was four o'clock in the afternoon. But, that's the thing about the medical field: breaks are never regular.

"And? Any deficiencies?" Jay asked, walking into his bedroom as you were at the table doing homework and he didn't want to distract you.

"Yes, two actually. Iron and riboflavin. The low iron explains why her periods have become shorter and lighter, but that can also be attributed to how small she is now."

"How do we go about this then?"

"I'll send you a list of foods that have levels high iron and riboflavin. Oh, riboflavin's found in vitamin B by the way."

"Okay, care to tell me what iron and riboflavin do? I know iron helps with hemoglobin and red blood cells, but I have no idea what riboflavin does."

"You're right about iron. I'm shocked. Or, what do the kids say these days? I'm shook."

"I swear to God, please never use that phrase again. And, I know what iron does because I paid attention in high school nutrition class, thank you very much."

"If I remember correctly, I helped you with most of the homework in that class."

"Whatever, you helped me. Now, tell me about riboflavin."

"So, riboflavin just helps convert food into energy and is needed for healthy skin, hair, blood, and a healthy brain." Jay could hear a beeping in the background on Will's end. "Gotta go. I'll send you that list of foods right now, though."

"Thanks, man."

You looked up as Jay came back into the kitchen. "Everything okay?" you asked.

Jay pulled out a chair and sat across from you. "So, I just got off the phone with Will. He got the results from your bloodwork back."

"Is it bad? Am I dying?" You set your pencil down, bracing yourself for bad news.

"No," Jay chuckled, "you're not dying. You just don't have enough iron and riboflavin, which is a specific B vitamin. Will sent me a list of foods that have high levels of those in them. You up for some grocery shopping? We can also grab some multivitamins that have those in them, too, just to help your levels stabilize faster."

"Okay, we can go now. I'm due for a break."

***

"So, some foods that contain riboflavin include milk, eggs, cheese, yogurt, meats, green leafy vegetables, and riboflavin enriched grains and cereals," Jay read off his phone.

"I've had a lot of those today already," you pointed out. "Eggs and cheese with breakfast. I had that yogurt for a snack at school, and I had meat and cheese on my sandwich and I had chocolate milk with my lunch at school."

That was just standard, Jay thought. He wondered what you ate when you were at your Dad's. And, he knew that if he wanted to obtain guardianship of you, he'd need to know these things.

"What did you eat at Dad's?" Jay probed.

"I mean, I barely made it to school on time most mornings because I was trying to be quiet so I didn't wake Dad, which made me move slower when getting ready. So, I'd usually just grab a small thing of dry cereal when I got to school and eat it in my first class. I never checked to see if it was one of the enriched ones. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize. There's no way you could've known. Now, what did you usually have for lunch at school?"

"I always tried to get veggies with my lunch, but most of the veggies were the gross canned ones, like canned corn or green beans. I don't like those. Sometimes, they'd have little salads as a side and I'd get those. Sometimes they'd have yogurt parfaits and I'd get those. But, I'd usually go for the pre-made subs, because at least those would have veggies on them...even if it was just lettuce and pickles. I'd usually try to get an apple or banana as my side, too." You paused. "If I was getting meat and cheese from the sub and milk from my chocolate milk, then how am I deficient in this?"

"It's probably because the meat and cheese schools use is so heavily processed that there are little to no vitamins left in it," Jay answered.

"And you know this how?"

"As you get older, you acquire a lot of knowledge and one of those things is that the more processed a food is, the fewer vitamins and minerals are preserved...and I watch a lot of The Food that Built America on the History channel."

"Oh, okay. What foods are on that show?"

"Usually it's about fast food. One episode I watched last week was about ice cream and popsicles and how they came to be in America. Pretty interesting."

"Can we watch an episode tonight? That show sounds good."

"Of course." He paused in front of the fresh produce. "Take your pick. But, just make sure you get some leafy greens for the riboflavin and some fruit and other green veggies for iron."

You picked up a few things such as more apples, a bag of Clementines, bananas, spinach, carrots, and celery, and then, you shocked your brother as you picked up a bag of kale.

"Kale?" he asked. "Didn't know you liked it."

You shrugged. "I heard it tastes kind of like spinach. And, I saw a recipe on Pinterest for a salad that has kale, lemon juice, and dates. Is it okay if we try that?"

"You know, I think that would be the perfect side for dinner tonight. I'll add lemon juice and dates to the list."

"I didn't grab too many fruits and veggies, right?" you asked, not wanting to waste food or your brother's hard-earned money. "I- I can put some back if you want me to."

"Nope, it's all good. We can always freeze the bananas if they go bad for smoothies or banana bread. And, we can always turn the apples into apple sauce. Spinach and kale freeze well, too and you can't even taste them if we put them in smoothies."

"How do you know this stuff?" you asked.

"I used to watch Mom cook a lot when I was little. And, when I moved out on my own, she gave me a copy of a cookbook she always used. Said the recipes at the beginning of the book were simple enough that I wouldn't burn my apartment down."

You laughed at the thought of your mom scolding Jay if his apartment got ruined from his cooking. "Do you still have it?" you asked. "The cookbook, I mean."

"I do."

"Can we make something out of it tonight?"

"You know, I think that's a great idea." He pursed his lips. "How about Mom's chicken pot pie? I think I have some frozen peas and corn in the freezer and we can use the carrots we just grabbed in it, too."

"That sounds really good. Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me." Jay paused. He figured now would be as good a time as any to tell you. "Uh, do you remember the day that we got ice cream and went and played soccer with Ben when you were little? The night that Mom went into the hospital?"

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat at the memory of that day.

"Well, she told me to take care of you. There's no way I would break a promise to Mom."

"She said that?"

"Mhmm."

"It's like she knew something was going to happen."

"Mom was a smart lady. Will had to have gotten it from somewhere and he sure didn't get it from Dad."

You laughed. "Hey, you're smart, too. Just not sciency smart. You're more puzzle smart because you put the pieces together of who committed a crime." Jay laughed at your description of his job. "Oh, is the recipe for Mom's garlic mashed potatoes in that cookbook?"

"It is. Want those as a side along with the salad you mentioned?"

"Yes, please...if it's not a problem."

"They're super simple and quick to make." He scribbled on a piece of notebook paper that he had written down a few groceries on, like the salad ingredients you had mentioned. "Alright, potatoes, a rotisserie chicken, and pastry dough have all been added to the list."

***

"I'll be back later tonight, no later than midnight," Jay told you two days later on Sunday night. "I know it's not ideal because you have school in the morning, but try and get some sleep while I'm gone, okay?"

"I'm used to being home alone at night, Jay." You shrugged. "I'll be fine."

"I know, it's just that not something I want you to get used to. Feel free to eat anything you want, cook anything you want. As long as you don't burn down the house, I don't care what you make. Oh, and remember to take your multivitamin before bed."

You rolled your eyes. "I'm fifteen, not five. Now, get going. Don't want you to be late to meet that lawyer."

"Love you. I'll be back by midnight. Lock the door behind me."

"I will. Love you, too."

With that, Jay left his apartment to go meet with ASA Stone and you locked the door behind him as he told you.

***

"So, Antonio told me you have some custody questions," Peter Stone said once he closed the door of his office.

"That's right," Jay replied as he took a seat in front of Stone's desk and turned his phone completely off and Stone took a seat in his chair behind his desk.

"Didn't know you had a kid, Halstead."

"No, I don't actually," Jay chuckled. "I have a kid sister. Name's Y/N and she's fifteen."

"Okay, and why do you want guardianship then?"

"When me and Will, my older brother, were kids, our dad kinda checked out on parenting us when we hit our mid-teens. But, we had our mom around, so it was okay. I went over there the other day because my dad was having some heart issues and I called Will. When I was there, I got a call of a robbery and it was Y/N. She was stealing food from a corner store because our dad wasn't feeding her," Jay explained.

"I see. So, other than her word and her stealing food, do you have any proof of this?"

"I know I should've called DCFS before letting her stay with me, but I couldn't let her stay there a minute longer, Peter. She's lost like 25 pounds in the past six months and she's deficient in both iron and vitamin B."

"Okay, what we have to do is petition for guardianship in front of a judge. I can help you with the documents and I can even represent you at the hearing if you want."

"Wow, yeah, that'd be great. Thank you."

"Anything else you want to tell me about your dad? Any physical or emotional abuse?"

"Not technically, but there is something else." And then Jay launched into all the information you had told him two days ago.

"Okay. And, you know your dad could theoretically press kidnapping charges against you because you took his kid without his permission?"

"I do. But he was basically starving her. No jury would find me guilty."

"I'm not going to argue with you about that one because I agree with you."

"So, do you think I have a chance of getting guardianship over Y/N?"

"In theory, yes. But, most judges like to keep the child with their biological parents. But, seeing as Y/N's fifteen, she does get some say in who she stays with," Stone explained. "When we have a custody or guardianship battle, we use the child's best interest standard. This means that you must prove that you are capable of providing food, clothing, housing, medical care, and a stable home life for Y/N. There will be one or two home visits before appearing before a judge, just to let you know."

"I'm aware of that. And, I just put an offer in on a new apartment with two bedrooms this morning and they're pretty quick in responding, so I should know in the next few days whether or not I got it."

"That's a good start. And you are financially stable to raise her until she turns eighteen, so three more years?"

"I am."

"Alright, let's start on those documents then. Unless you have any more questions for me?"

"I do actually. I, uh, I just found out that I'm technically still married. Something about me not signing the divorce papers even though I specifically remember signing them? And, before you ask, me and this girl served together, we were both twenty-one, going through rough patches and it was a Vegas wedding eight years ago. Lasted no more than twenty-four hours."

"It's really good that you told me this because any good lawyer would find that out when you file for guardianship. It's possible that she didn't co-sign the divorce papers. If that's the reason, I can help you draw up new divorce papers right now."

"Really? You'd help me with that?"

"Of course. A friend of Antonio's is a friend of mine," Stone said as he started typing on his computer. "So, what you can do is you can file for a no-fault divorce."

"You're gonna have to be specific, Stone. I know a bit of criminal law because I've had to testify in criminal cases, but like I said, I don't know family or civil law," Jay said.

"What a no-fault divorce is, Jay, is that you don't have to prove that either of you did anything wrong to get a divorce. All you have to do is state that your marriage is unsalvageable and continue filing for divorce."

"That's it? What if she doesn't sign it?"

"The divorce papers will be served to, uh...what's this girl's name again?" Stone asked.

"Abby."

"Abby. The divorce papers will be served to Abby and she has twenty days to file her response with the court. If she doesn't, then the court rules it as an uncontested divorce and then you're officially divorced."

"Me and Abby are meeting up to talk about all this tonight. But, can we just fill out paperwork for this no-fault divorce just in case things don't go as planned? I just really need to get guardianship of Y/N. The least amount of problems, the better."

"Of course. And if everything goes well with her tonight, then just give me a call and I'll shred the documents."

"Alright, just tell me where to sign."

***

"Wilson is running through the showers wearing nothing but a Kevlar vest, right?" Jay reminisced on the good parts of his Ranger days with Abby at a bar around 8:30 that night after his meeting with Peter Stone.

"Well, the lieutenant said, all outdoor activities to be conducted in body armor." Jay laughed at Abby's rendition of their lieutenant's voice. "Do you remember, he had his girlfriend's name tattooed on his ass?"

Jay set his empty drink down on the bar. "Did he tell you that was his girlfriend? That was his dog's name," Jay laughed.

"That actually makes more sense," Abby said. "I could go for another one of these."

"I, um, I shouldn't."

"Gotta get back to the barracks?"

"No, I uh gotta get back to my little sister, actually. I'm looking after her at the moment. It's a long story. Do you have the papers?"

"I, uh, I don't have them."

"Abby."

"It's just, I never told you. Even that crazy day we got married, I never told you that I loved you, Jay. It didn't feel right. But, I loved you, Jay. I do love you."

Jay sighed. "Abby, you deserve everything good. I'm just not the guy that's gonna give that to you." He brushed her hair to the side and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

After putting some money on the bar to pay for the drinks and tip the bartender, he left the bar. Guess he was going to need these no-fault divorce documents, anyway.

He was almost to his car when he heard someone calling his name. And, it was a voice he knew all too well.

"Erin?" he shouted as she came closer. "What are you doing here?"

"Would it kill you to turn on your phone? You need to get to the district. Now."

"What? Why? What's wrong?"

She got in his passenger seat. "Just drive. I'll explain on the way."

***

You were sitting on Jay's bed reading a book when you heard a knock on the door.

Slowly, you got off his bed and made your way out of his room. You took a knife out of the knife block, but you hoped you wouldn't need to use it. Jay would've told you if someone was planning on stopping over. And, if it was Will, he would've given you a heads-up.

The knocking got louder and more aggressive. "Jayson! Open this door! I have the right to see my daughter!"

Dad.

With the knife still in hand, you backed up and then, once on the carpet, ran back into Jay's room and quietly shut the door and locked it. You pulled out your phone and tried Jay. It went straight to voicemail. The pounding was getting louder. You tried Will. It went straight to voicemail because he was on shift. You thought you heard your dad starting to kick the door now instead of just pounding on it with his fists. You tried the last person you thought could help.

"Y/N?" Erin asked as she answered her phone and paused the tv show she was watching.

"Erin," you whispered. "I'm scared. I need help."

"You need help? Can you tell me why?"

"My dad, he's- he's here. He's looking for me." You heard a crash.

"Jay? Y/N? I know one of you is in here!"

"I- I think he just broke down the apartment door. Please help."

"Okay, okay, here's what you're going to do. I want you to hide somewhere and I'm going to call a patrol car over there right now. You're going to turn your phone on silent and I'm going to call you right back," she told you.

"Okay," you whispered as quietly as you could.

"I'll call you back in one minute tops."

You moved as quietly as you could with the knife and your phone still in your hands and opened Jay's closet door. You buried yourself behind the two garment bags that contained Jay's police blues and his military dress uniform, hoping against hope that your dad wouldn't find you.

Your phone lit up and it was Erin. You answered.

"Y/N, the officers will be there soon. I don't want you to talk. Just know that I'm on the phone with you."

At the same time, as she was talking to you over speakerphone, she was texting the team. She assumed you couldn't reach Jay or Will since you had called her. She told them what was happening and that a few of them needed to get to the district because they needed to find Jay's location. She also told Voight to get ahold of Sharon Goodwin so she could notify Will of what was currently happening.

"Chicago PD! Put your hands where we can see them!" you heard from your hiding place.

"See?" Erin said. "I told you that you'd be okay. I told them that you were hiding, so if someone opens the door, it's just an officer."

Just after she said that the closet door opened.

You squeaked.

"It's okay. You're safe," the officer said. "We're just going to take you down to the district. You're safe."

You peeked out from your hiding place and you saw the blues of the officers. You slowly made your way out and followed the officer out to the patrol car, the one that didn't house your dad for a breaking and entering charge at the moment.

***

"Where is she?" Jay yelled as he entered the district.

Platt just pointed to the bench next to one of the offices where you were sitting, staring at the floor, with a police jacket draped over your shoulders.

He sunk to his knees in front of you. "Are you hurt? Did Dad hurt you? Did he put his hands on you in any way?"

You shook your head.

"Oh thank God."

"I was so scared," you whispered. "When you and Will didn't answer, I thought he was gonna get me."

"I'm sorry. I turned off my phone when I talked to ASA Stone, and I forgot to turn it back on. I'm so sorry. C'mere."

You all but fell off the bench and into Jay's arms. "Is he going to jail? I don't want him going to jail."

"He was drunk out of his mind. I can ask not to press charges, though."

"Please. He needs help."

Although Jay didn't say it, he knew you were right. Jails and prisons didn't rehabilitate, they just taught criminals how to be better criminals. He knew that his dad needed rehab, a twelve-step program, anything.

"Okay, I won't press charges. But, I think we're gonna need to stay with Will for the night because our door's broken. What do you say we run home and grab some clothes to bring to Will's? And, since Dad will be here for a little longer, we can run to his house and get more of your stuff. Sound like a plan?"

"Can we get Dairy Queen on the way to Will's?"

"We sure can."

***

"I- I don't think any of these dresses will fit me anymore. They look way too big," you said to Jay as the two of you unpacked a bunch of your stuff in the guest room of Jay's new apartment. You wanted to think of it as the guest room for now instead of calling it your room just in case Jay wasn't awarded guardianship. You didn't want to get too attached.

Jay sighed. He figured you were right. He would see if Erin could take you, but their relationship was on the backburner right now. And, Erin had some stuff with Bunny she had to work out after she had brought her that pearl bracelet and said that she might be leaving Chicago. So, now wasn't really the right time for him to be bugging Erin about going shopping with you. And, he couldn't ask Kim because she was taking some furlough after finding her sister brutally sodomized after a night out.

He thought about asking Will if Nina could come, but he didn't think that those two were too happy with each other at the moment since Will hadn't told Nina about their dad being in the hospital and she had to find out from Natalie. Not Will's greatest moment.

He racked his brain for more women he knew.

Then it hit him: Gabby.

Yes, they had briefly dated, but that was five years ago. She was married now and his feelings for her were completely gone. They were civil with each other when they saw each other in the field and would chat when Gabby showed up at the district to pick up Eva or Diego.

"How about you try a few on after we finish unpacking, and then if none of them really fit, I can give Gabby a call and see if she'll take you shopping while I work on unpacking the rest of the house," Jay suggested.

"Okay. Will's gonna be over after his shift to help though, right?" you asked.

"He better be. He said he would. If he doesn't come, he better have a really good excuse."

"You can't unpack the kitchen without me," you told him.

"Why not?"

"I can't have you putting the glasses and other stuff on high shelves because I wanna reach them without having to climb on the counter."

"Okay, fine. I'll keep your short little height in mind while I unpack." He paused. "Do you want to get those fancy word stickers for your room for one of the walls?"

"Decals? And, it's not my room yet."

"Listen, after that stunt Dad pulled at my old apartment, Stone is 99.9% positive that I'll be granted guardianship. We just have to jump through all the hoops first."

"Like the home checks?"

"Like the home checks," he confirmed.

"What do I say in court?" you asked a few minutes later as you were putting the pillows on your freshly made bed.

"You just tell the truth," he answered.

"Will you be in there with me?"

"No, I won't. Stone said that usually in these cases you talk to the judge by yourself so that you can't be intimidated by either of the people who are fighting for custody or guardianship."

"So you won't be there? Will won't be there?"

"Will will be out in the hall and I will be in a different room. I'll be in like a witness room, where they make witnesses of a crime wait so that their testimony isn't swayed by what the other people are saying on the stand. But, me and Dad will be in the courtroom at the same time, just so I can see what he'll be saying."

"And, I'll be in there then, too?"

"Yes."

"What kind of questions do they ask me?"

"Stone said that since you're older, you get a say in who you stay with, so they'll ask you questions like who've you known the longest, who you feel safest with, who you want to live with, etc."

"Will they ask me questions about Dad? Like how he didn't give me food and how he broke into your apartment?" you asked.

"They will," Jay confirmed. "But, Stone will be in there for those questions just in case he needs to object to something."

"So the only time I'll be alone with the judge is when they're asking me the first few questions? Like who I feel safest with?"

"Exactly. Now, do you need help putting these books on the top shelf of your bookshelf?"

***

"Hey, how was your day?" Jay asked as he came home from work that afternoon. It was a shock that he was home by 5 pm, but you had a big day tomorrow. Not only was tomorrow Friday, it was the day you and Jay had to go to court to see if he would be awarded guardianship of you.

"We've got a problem," you stated.

"Um, I can try to help you with it, but let me go put my gun away first."

While he was doing that, you pulled out the slip of paper and the note that Gretchen Cunningham had written, saying that she wouldn't allow you to make up the test you would be missing because you had to go to court.

"Alright, what's the problem?" Jay asked as he walked into the kitchen.

"Cunningham. She's the problem...as always."

You handed him the papers and he read them over. "Yeah, this isn't going to fly. She doesn't need a judge's signature to allow you to take the test. I'll talk to the school tomorrow morning when I call to tell them you'll be absent."

"I hate her," you groaned. "She's so mean. And, I know what you're gonna say. You have to deal with people you don't like. But, she lost one of my assignments and told me I didn't turn it in and couldn't re-do it!"

"Well did you?" Jay asked. "Turn it in, I mean."

"Jay!"

He put his hands up in a sign of surrender. "I'm just saying, could be your fault."

"Yes, I turned in the stupid assignment. And, she paired me up with the stupidest kid in the class and told me to do well on this assignment because he needed a good grade to pass. It's not my fault he's failing! Don't put his grade on me, lady!"

"And she wouldn't let you re-do it?"

"Nope. But it's fine. I'm still getting an A. That might change if she doesn't let me take this test, though."

"It's like deja-vu from my freshman year all over again. Why doesn't she retire already? She's like 100."

"Or they could fire her," you quipped. "Or I could switch classes."

"I'll see what I can do. Who's the other history teacher?"

"Um, Miss Hedge."

"Hedge? As in Jayne Hedge?"

"Yeah, it's actually her. Why? Do you know her?"

"Yes he does," Will said as he entered Jay's apartment. "In fact, they went to freshman snowcoming together."

"How did you even get in here?" Jay asked, turning around to look at his older brother.

"For a cop, you're not that smart. You didn't lock the door behind you."

"I don't lock my door when I'm still awake. And, seriously? You just had to tell Y/N that, didn't you?"

"You guys can't just leave me hanging now. Tell me the story!"

"Fine," Jay grumbled and Will just laughed and sat down at the table, too. "I met her at school, obviously. She was on the freshman basketball team and I had winter weight training for the soccer team. I thought she was pretty and she was really smart, too. And, I knew that a bunch of the girls went to get Taco Bell after practice, so me and some of my friends decided to go, too."

"There used to be a Taco Bell close to school?" you asked. If there was, you'd never seen it before.

"It got torn down just after I graduated," Jay answered. "Anyway, we went to Taco Bell and I started talking to her and we talked a lot after practice. I'd walk her home sometimes. Then, I asked her to snowcoming and she said yes."

"So, why'd you guys break up? I know you dated Allie in high school."

"We realized we were better off as friends." Jay shrugged.

"And he realized he liked Allie more," Will added.

"Yeah, that too."

Will set a big bag of takeout on the table.

"Seriously?" Jay asked. "I thought we weren't going to do this that much anymore so we can get Y/N's vitamin and mineral levels stabilized."

"I'm sure she'd appreciate the break from your mundane meals," Will said. "And, I got us all side salads to go with the burgers instead of fries, so calm down." Jay gave him a look. "Fine, I got the side salads along with the fries. But, they're made out of potatoes, so they're technically a vegetable."

"For a doctor, you don't know much about nutrition, do you? And, my meals are not mundane."

"Dude, you'd have chicken, spaghetti, or grilled cheese every night."

"Not every night, just a lot of nights when I'd get home from the district late. I'll have you know me and Y/N have been making really good diners lately. Wanna tell Will what we made last night for dinner, Short Stack?"

"We made this really good pasta. We used Orzo, which looks like rice, but it's pasta. And we made a sauce out of tomatoes, onions, and orange juice. It was supposed to be lemon juice, but Jay didn't have any. We put chicken sausage in it for protein...and spices of course," you told Will.

"That actually sounds really good. Wow, Jay cooking every night, not something I expected."

"I like it," you said. "And, he lets me play whatever music I want when we cook."

Will rolled his eyes. You had Jay so wrapped around your finger that he'd do almost anything for you. Will didn't think he himself was that bad, but deep down, he knew he'd do anything for you, too...despite not being in Chicago as long as Jay had been.

***

"So I got a call from Stone this morning," Jay said around 11:30 that night when he and Will were sitting on the couch, each nursing a beer.

Will set his beer down on the coffee table in front of him. "And?"

"And, as of yesterday at midnight, I am officially divorced from Abby. Turns out, they served her the papers and, since she didn't sign them and it had been twenty days, it turned into an uncontested, no-fault divorce."

"Congrats, man. Might've been eight years too late, but you're a free man now."

"Amen to that. And it came at just the right time."

"Yeah," Will agreed. "You nervous for tomorrow?"

"Not really. More nervous for Y/N than anything. I've testified in criminal cases, so I kinda know how this goes, but she hasn't. And, before me and Dad go in to plead our cases, she has to talk to the judge all by herself. I just wish one of us could be in there with her."

Will nodded. "Know what they're going to ask you?"

"I know what Stone's going to ask me because we prepped, but I have no idea what Dad's lawyer is going to ask me. Pretty sure he's got just a public defender, though. Hopefully, that works in my favor."

"Not always, man," Will disagreed. "The public defenders who do these cases only do these cases. They've had a lot of practice."

"You really know how to make me feel better, thanks," Jay replied sarcastically.

"Rather have you hear it from me before the case than someone else after. Are you going to get cross-examined?"

"Probably. Don't know what they're going to ask me though because it's a cross. Stone set up some sample questions for me to answer with him to practice, but I'm going in blind. I'm used to it though because I've testified before. But, this feels like my biggest case."

"Because it probably is."

"Are you talking about tomorrow?" you asked as you quietly padded across the floor towards the living room.

"Y/N? What are you doing up? It's almost midnight," Jay pointed out.

"I- I know. But I couldn't sleep. I'm scared. What if I have to go back to Dad's? What if they find neither of you fit and I have to go into foster care?"

Jay patted the empty spot on the couch next to him and you sat down. "We just have to trust the system. That's all we can do."

"I know, but I can't sleep. And I'm so tired."

"I have an idea," Jay started and stood up, "stay here."

"I'm gonna go look for some melatonin," Will said after a few minutes of you two just sitting in silence. "I think Jay still has some for nights that he can't sleep."

Will was still rummaging around Jay's cabinets when Jay came back with a big black box with some cords and a cardboard box balanced against his hip.

"The hell is that?" You quickly covered your mouth when you realized you had sworn. "Sorry."

"It's okay. And, to answer your question, this is VCR. And, I have a bunch of videotapes in this box." He turned from you to face the kitchen, where Will was still opening and closing cabinets. "Will? What are you doing?"

"Looking for melatonin for Y/N. You got any?"

"First of all, it's so late that if you give it to her now, she'll sleep through her alarm and we can't be late for court tomorrow. And, second of all, I keep it in the medicine cabinet in my bathroom."

Will closed the cabinet and made his way back to the couch to sit next to you as Jay started to hook up the VCR to the tv. "Uh, Jay," Will began, "you know it's a little late for a movie right? And, I should get going in like half an hour?"

"We're not watching a movie. I recorded a bunch of the Blackhawks playoff games on one of these and I thought Y/N'd like to watch the 2010 Stanely Cup final series against the Flyers. Or, we could watch the final series against the Bruins when they won the cup last year."

"Let's watch the 2010 one," you said. "I don't think I watched it because I wasn't into watching hockey as much as I am now."

"And you have Jay to thank for that," Will pointed out.

"You can record things on there? Like an old-school DVR?" you asked.

"God, now I feel old," Will groaned. "Wait until she learns about floppy disks."

"Floppy what now?"

"Nevermind. Only 80s-90s kids would get it."

"We get it. You guys are millennials."

"Got it!" Jay exclaimed as he popped the videotape into the VCR and it started playing. "Now, shut up so we can relive this, Will."

You fell asleep before you even reached the end of the first period.

***

You rubbed your eyes and then looked around you to notice that you were still on the couch. You craned your neck to see the time on the oven on the other side of the open concept kitchen and living room and saw that it was 5:45 am. Jay was at the gym now. And, you knew you wouldn't be able to fall back asleep because you were already starting to worry about the rest of the day. You had to be in court at 8:30 and had to be talking to a judge at 9:00, the judge that would determine who you would be living with, which would inevitably determine your future.

God, you were thinking just like the teachers talked about the SATs, how if you didn't get a good grade on that standardized test that your future would be ruined.

You stood up and stretched and then went back to your room to grab the book you were currently reading. Then, you turned on a few lamps and grabbed a yogurt and fruit from the fridge, along with a glass of orange juice. After wrapping yourself in a blanket, you started to eat and read, hoping that that would keep your mind from wandering and worrying at least until Jay got back from the gym.

Half an hour later, Jay unlocked the apartment door and walked inside, confused as to why you were awake. It was only 6:15 and he had told you just to be up by 6:45.

"What are you doing awake, Short Stack?" he asked as he grabbed a banana from the bowl on the counter.

"I woke up at about 5:45 and I couldn't fall asleep. I'm sorry."

"Nothing to worry about. I just want you as well-rested for today as possible. You have your dress all ready? Know what shoes you're going to wear?"

"Jay," you whined. "I picked all of that out last night because you told me to."

"Just didn't want you to have to rush. I can turn the game back on for you so you can watch it until you have to start getting ready?"

You nodded and Jay came over and fiddled with the tv and the remote, going back to the middle of the first period where he thought you had fallen asleep.

"Okay, I'm gonna take a shower. Will said he'll be here around 7:45. Oh, and you can take that history test when you get back on Monday, in Miss Hedge's class."

You smiled. "Okay." Then, you turned your attention back to the hockey game.

***

You widened your eyes as you stood in the second bathroom getting ready. You had gotten dressed (into a navy blue, lacey dress that ended just above the knee that you had bought with Gabby a few days ago), washed your face, brushed your teeth, did your makeup, but now you were cursing yourself for being so stupid. You had no way of doing your hair. You didn't have a straightener here. And, your typical ponytail or bun wasn't going to cut it for court.

"Jay!" you yelled as you exited the bathroom and knocked on his bedroom door.

He opened it as he was tying his tie. "Yeah? Everything okay?"

"I don't have a straightener! I can't do my hair and if I wear my hair like I usually do then it will look bad on you and--"

"Hey, hey, calm down. We've still got over 45 minutes before we have to leave. I'll give Gabby a call and see if she's not on shift and can let you borrow hers."

You sighed the biggest sigh of relief. "Thank you."

Five minutes later, Jay knocked on the bathroom door as you were brushing your hair. "Gabby will be here in ten."

"Oh thank God."

***

"Thank you!" you exclaimed ten minutes later as you opened the door, revealing Gabby with her hair straightener. And, behind her, was Casey.

"No problem. Just tell me if you're not used to it and need help."

You took it from her. "No, I should be good. Thanks, though. C'mon in. I'm pretty sure Jay's around here somewhere."

They came into the apartment while you ran off to find Jay.

You knocked on his bedroom once more and he opened it, this time completely ready for the day. "Gabby and Casey are here," you told him.

"Casey's here?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Yeah. I think he just came with Gabby."

"Okay. Go fix your hair. I'll go talk to them."

Twenty minutes later, you were finished and slipping your shoes on when you heard a knock on the apartment door. "I got it, Y/N!" Jay yelled.

Well, I hoped you would because you're closer to the door than me, you thought to yourself.

Jay opened the door, and since it was exactly 7:45, he was expecting to just see Will. But, what he saw both shocked him and made him want to cry from appreciation at the same time.

Standing next to Will was Natalie and behind them was all of Intelligence and Trudy Platt and Mouch, all of Squad 3 and Truck 81 (minus Casey because he was inside), Sylvie Brett, Chief Boden, April, Maggie, Dr. Rhodes, Dr. Charles, Reese, and Noah.

"You're all here for the court case?" Jay asked, stunned.

"Well, Natalie has to testify about Y/N's deficiencies and weight loss, but yeah. It's better if the court sees that the person trying to get guardianship has a ton of support. So, I figured I'd call in reinforcements...even though I'm pretty sure my big personality is enough."

Jay rolled his eyes. "Your big ego maybe." He paused, not knowing how he was going to fit everyone in his apartment even if it was bigger than his last one. "However many of you guys can fit inside, can come in. Um, some of you might just need to meet us at the courthouse--"

"Jay, they just came now so you could see how many people were behind you. They're just gonna meet you there. Except for me. I'm driving you two." Jay furrowed his eyebrows. They didn't talk about this. "I'll explain later."

"Gabby," you said as you walked out of the bathroom. "Can you--" you stopped as you saw everyone outside Jay's apartment.

"They're all here for you and Jay," Gabby explained as she stood up. "And, you can't cry because it'll smear your makeup, so hold back the tears."

You nodded as you held them back. "Can you, uh, check the back of my hair to make sure I got it all straight?" you asked.

"Two spots are still a bit wavy. Let's go fix it so you can get going."

A few minutes later, Gabby had fixed your hair and everyone besides Will and Jay had left and were on their way to the courthouse. You slipped on a pair of black ballet flats and your coat.

Will had explained that the reason he was driving was that if Jay didn't get guardianship, he didn't want him driving in such a distressed state. Will had worked on so many patients who were in car accidents due to their emotional state and he didn't want Jay to be one of them.

"Ready?" Jay asked you.

"As ready as I'll ever be," you said as you wiped your sweaty palms on your dress.

"All you have to do is tell the truth."

***

You thought you'd be comfortable inside a courtroom because of the crime dramas you'd seen. But, standing inside one was very different from watching a fictional tv show.

No one but you, the judge, the court reporter, Peter Stone, and your dad's lawyer could be in the room for this next part, so everyone was either in a witness room or waiting outside in the hallway for the go-ahead to be let in. You would be allowed to be in the courtroom while they were talking to Jay and your dad, but they wouldn't be able to be in the room when you talked to the judge...for obvious reasons, such as influencing what you would say.

"All rise."

You stood up next to Stone as the judge, who you now knew as Judge Callahan, entered the room.

Once you sat down, you were called to the stand. "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you God?" you were asked as you placed your hand on the Bible.

"I do," you answered.

"Alright, please allow Miss Halstead on the witness stand," Judge Callahan said. "Now, I'm just going to ask you a few questions. All you have to do is answer them. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand."

"Okay, first question: Has your father, Pat Halstead, ever hit you or physically abused you in any way?"

"No," you answered.

"Has he ever neglected to give you necessities, such as food, water, clothing, or shelter?"

"Yes."

"Can you please elaborate?"

You did. You explained how your dad never had food in the house and would yell at you and call you a burden if you tried to eat his leftovers.

"Is it true that your father tried to break into your brother's house to get you?" Judge Callahan asked.

"Yes."

"Who do you feel safest with?"

"My brother, Jay Halstead."

"Who would you prefer to live with?"

"Jay Halstead."

***

Jay sat on the witness stand. He had answered all of Stone's questions, including all of the questions about him finding you stealing, what you had been using for pads, and what he had been told that you had been eating at your dad's house. Natalie had testified about your physical well-being, weight loss, and iron and riboflavin deficiencies. But now, it was time for Jay's cross-examination. And, he sure as hell didn't expect this next question to be asked.

"Mr. Halstead," your dad's lawyer began, "you previously said, and I quote, that your dad clocked out on parenting you and your older brother, Will, when you were in your teens, around when you started high school. Can you elaborate on that?"

"Objection!" Stone yelled. "Relevance?"

"Speaks to a pattern."

"I'll allow it," Judge Callahan said. "Please answer the question, Mr. Halstead."

Jay nodded. "He clocked out on parenting me and Will because he said that were essentially grown men at this point in our lives, we didn't need him cheering us on or him helping us. He didn't come to a single one of my soccer games in high school. And, if by some miracle we went out for ice cream or something just me, my brother, and my dad, he wouldn't pay for ours. Said we were old enough to pay for ourselves.

"But, we had our mom. She came to all our games and school events. She made us breakfast, lunch, and dinner. If she wasn't there, I don't know what would've happened to me and Will. My dad didn't even want me to go into the military and didn't want Will to go to medical school. He said a real man went right to work. The only time I felt loved by him in all my teenage years was when I left for the military. It was like because he knew I might die over there that he figured he'd say he loved me one last time."

"Redirect, your honor," Stone said. Judge Callahan nodded at Stone. "You said that your mom made you and your brother lunch. Are you doing that for Y/N?"

"Objection! Relevance?"

"Speaks to Mr. Halstead's abilities as a parent."

"I'll allow it. Please answer the question."

"I actually do," Jay answered. "I make her a packed lunch to bring to school every day and I'm sure to add foods high in iron and riboflavin to help those levels stabilize quicker. The first time I packed her a lunch, she actually cried because she hadn't gotten a lunch from home in so long."

"Thank you."

"Mr. Halstead," your dad's lawyer started, "you were previously deployed overseas in Afghanistan for two tours of duty. While I thank you for your service, is it possible that you could have PTSD and hurt Y/N in the middle of the night?"

"I would never hurt her!"

"While you are fully conscious, maybe. But, while you are in a sleep-addled state, isn't it possible that you might think that the person waking you up is an enemy soldier and not your little sister?"

Jay sighed. No one knew this about him, not you, not Will, not his dad. No one. And now all of his family and closest friends were going to know since they were in the courtroom watching this entire thing unfold.

"I am on Prazosin for nightmares caused by my PTSD," Jay answered.

"And how long have you been on this medication?"

"For about two years."

"And this has helped you manage your nightmares?"

"Yes, very much so."

"No further questions."

***

"Jesus, Jay," Will said after you had watched your dad's testimony on why he should get to keep you. It was the usual: how he was your father, so, therefore, he deserved to keep taking care of you and it's what your mother would've wanted...despite her telling Jay to keep you safe before she died. They already had the responding officers testify about the break-in, so he couldn't deny that and he was under oath, so if anyone found out he lied, then your dad would be held in contempt.

"I'm sorry I never told you, man," Jay said. "I just, I thought of it as weak that I couldn't deal with my own shit." He grimaced when he realized he had sworn around you. "Sorry, Y/N."

"It's okay. I hear that stuff at school."

"I'm just upset you didn't tell me they were getting that bad, Jay," Will lamented. "I know I wasn't there for you a lot after Mom died, but I'm here now."

Jay nodded, and Will knew he didn't want to talk about the topic anymore. You looked through the little window into the courtroom and saw that the judge was coming back from her chambers.

"Guys, I think she's made a decision," you said nervously.

"Whatever happens, me and Jay will be there for you," Will promised.

All you could do at this point was nod, as a lump was forming in your throat from all your nerves.

Jay led you back into the courtroom and you sat at the front, between Jay and Will. You wiped your sweaty palms on your dress and Jay gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

Judge Callahan stood up.

"By using the child's best interest standard of who can provide food, clothing, housing, education, medical care, and a stable home life for Y/N Halstead, I declare Mr. Jay Halstead the legal guardian of Y/N Halstead."

You could've sworn that you stopped breathing the second she said Jay's first name. You were so overwhelmed that you just turned to him and started crying as he wrapped an arm around you while he listened to the judge state your dad's visitation rights.

But, you didn't hear any of that. The only phrase that kept repeating in your head was I declare Mr. Jay Halstead the legal guardian of Y/N Halstead over and over again.

Now, you knew that you'd always have the necessities when you lived with Jay. You wouldn't have to worry about where your next meal was going to come from or if your dad would be out until 3 am drinking. You wouldn't have to worry about having access to tampons or pads and not be embarrassed anymore to ask for some from school if you forgot to put any in your backpack that day. But most of all, you knew that you would be loved and cared for.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Did I make anyone cry with this one??? The blood draw scenario was actually based on when I had to go and get my blood drawn the other day and thought I was going to pass out, which is why that scene was so long. Anyway, thank you again for reading, and please reblog/like and comment and tell me what you think! As always, if you want to be added to my taglist, just tell me and I’ll add you!

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e

[spockandawe]

Well, this is interesting! So, in that post yesterday, there was one line that really baffled me, a thing about people brushing off a character as an asshole “because he shows literally zero growth.” I kind of set that aside because it was such a weird non-sequitur, and guessed that it was just someone’s sentences not quite keeping up with their train of thought, which has happened to me many times. Apparently I was wrong! I already spent long enough on that one post, I’m tired of talking about that, but this is new and interesting. 

Okay. I kind of wanted to see if I could talk about this purely in terms of abstracts and not characters, but I don’t think it’ll work. It would be frustrating to write and confusing to read. It’s about Jiang Cheng. Right up front: This isn’t about whether or not he’s an abuser. Frankly, I don’t think it’s relevant. This also isn’t about telling people they should like him. I don't care whether anyone else likes him or not. But I do like him, and I am always fascinated by dissecting the reasons that people disagree with me. And the process of Telling Stories is my oldest hyperfixation I remember, which will become relevant in a minute.

I thought I had a good grasp on this one, you know? Jiang Cheng makes it pretty obvious why people would dislike Jiang Cheng. But then the posts I keep stumbling over were making weird points, culminating in that “literally zero growth” line.

So! What happened is that someone wrote up a post about how Jiang Cheng’s character arc isn’t an arc, it’s stagnation. It’s a pretty interesting read, and I broadly agree with the larger point! The points where I would quibble are like... the idea that it’s absolute stagnation, as opposed to very subtle shifts that still make a material difference. But still, cool! The post was also offered up as a reason why OP was uninterested in writing any more Jiang Cheng meta, which I totally get. I’m not tired of him yet, but I definitely understand why someone who isn’t a fan of his would get tired about writing about a character with a very static arc. Okay!

Now, internet forensics are hard. I desperately wish I had more information about this evolution, because I find this stuff fascinating, but I have no good way to find things said in untagged posts, reblogs, or private/external venues. But as far as I can tell, that “literally zero growth” wasn’t just a slip of the tongue, it’s become fashionable for people to say that Jiang Cheng is an abusive asshole (that it’s fucked up to like) because he doesn’t have a character arc.

Asshole? Yes. Abusive? This post still isn’t about that. This is about it being fucked up to like this character because he did bad things and had a static character arc.

At first, that point of view was still deeply confusing to me. But I think I figured out the idea at the core of it, and now I’m only baffled. I’m not super interested in confirming this directly, because the people making the most noise about this have not inspired confidence in their ability to hold a civil conversation and I’m a socially anxious binch, but I think the idea is: ‘This character did Bad Things, and then did not improve himself.’

Which is alarmingly adjacent to that old favorite standard of ‘This piece of fiction is glorifying Bad Thing.’ I haven’t seen anyone accusing mxtx of something something jiang cheng, only the people who read/watched/heard the story and became invested in the Jiang Cheng character, but things kind of add up, you know?

Like I said, I don’t want to arbitrate anyone’s right to like/dislike Jiang Cheng. That’s such a fucking waste of time. But this is fascinating to me, because it’s like..... so obviously new and sudden, with such a clear originating point. I can’t speak to the Chinese fans, obviously, but exiledrebels started translating in... what, 2017? And only now, in 2021, do people start putting forth Jiang Cheng’s flat character arc as a “reason” that he’s bad? I’m not going to argue if he pings you in the abuse place, I’m not a dick. I’m not going to argue if you just dislike his vibes. I’m just over here on my blog and in the tag enjoying myself, feel free to detour around me. But oh my god, it’s so silly to try to tell other people that they shouldn’t like him because he has a static character arc.

I want to talk about stories. I don’t know how much I’ll be able to say, because it’s impossible to make broad, sweeping statements, because there are stories about change, there are stories about lack of change, there are all kinds of media that can be used to tell stories, and standards for how stories are told and what they emphasize vary across cultures and over time. But I think that what I can say is that telling a story requires... compromise. It requires streamlining. Trying to capture all the detail of life would slow down most stories to an unbearable degree. Consider organically telling someone ‘I made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich’ versus the computer science exercise of having students describe, step by step, how to make one (spread peanut butter? but you never said you opened the lid)

Hell, I’ve got an example in mdzs itself. The largely-faceless masses of the common people. If someone asks you to think about it critically like, yes, obviously these are people, living their own lives, with their own desires, sometimes suffering and dying in the wake of the novel plot. But does the story give weight to those deaths? Or does it just gloss by? Yes, it references their suffering occasionally, but it is not the focus, and it would slow the story unbearably to give equal weight to each dead person mentioned. 

Does Wei Wuxian’s massacre get given the same slow, careful consideration as Su She’s, or Jin Guangyao’s? No, because taking the time to weigh our protagonist with ‘well, this one was a mother, and her youngest son had just started walking, but now he’s going to grow up without remembering her face. that one only became an adult a few months ago, he still hasn’t been on many night-hunts yet, but he finds it so rewarding to protect the common people. oh, and this one had just gotten engaged, but don’t worry, his fiancee won’t mourn him, because she died here as well.’ And continuing on that way to some large number under 3000? No! Unless your goal is to make the reader feel bad for cheering for a morally grey hero, that would be a bad authorial decision! The book doesn’t ignore the issue, it comes up, Wei Wuxian gets called out about all the deaths he’s responsible for, but that’s not the same as them being given equal emotional weight to one (1) secondary character, and I don’t love this new thing where people are pretending that’s equivalent.

When Wei Wuxian brutally kills every person at the Wen supervisory office, are you like ‘holy shit... so many grieving families D:’ or are you somewhere between vindicated satisfaction and an ‘ooh, yikes’ wince? Odds are good you’re somewhere in the satisfaction/wince camp, because that’s what the story sets you up to feel, because the story has to emphasize its priorities (priorities vary, but ‘plot’ and ‘protagonist’ are common ones, especially for a casual novel read like this)

Now, characters. If you want to write a story with a sweeping, epic scale, or if you want to tightly constrain the number of people your story is about, I guess it’s possible to give everyone involved a meaningful character arc. Now.... is it always necessary? Is it always possible? Does it always make sense? No, of course not. If you want to do that, you have to devote real estate to it, and depending on the story you want to tell, it could very possibly be a distraction from your main point, like the idea of mxtx tenderly eulogizing every single character who dies even incidentally. Lan Qiren doesn’t get a loving examination of his feelings re: his nephews and wei wuxian and political turnover in the cultivation world because it’s not relevant, and also, because his position is pretty static until right near the end of the story. Lan Xichen is arguably one of the most static characters within the book, he seems like the same nice young between Gusu and the present, right up until... just before the end of the story.

You may see where I’m heading with this.

Like, just imagine trying to demand that every important character needs to go through a major life change before the end of your book or else it didn’t count. This just in, Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg go through multiple novels without experiencing radical shifts in who they are, stop liking them immediately. I do get that the idea is that Jiang Cheng was a ~bad person~ who didn’t change, but asdgfsd I thought we were over the handwringing over people being allowed to like ““bad”” fictional characters. The man isn’t even a canonical serial killer, he’s not my most problematic fave even within this novel.

And here is where it’s a little more relevant that I would quibble with that original post about Jiang Cheng’s arc. He’s consistently a mean girl, but he goes from stressed, sharp-edged teenager, to grief-stricken, almost-destroyed teen, to grim, cold young adult (and then detours into grim, cold, and grief-stricken until grief dulls with time). He does become an attentive uncle tho. He..... doesn’t experience a radical change in his sense of self, which... it’s...... not all that strange for an adult. And bam, then he DOES experience a radical change, but the needs of the plot dictate that it’s right near the end. And he’s not the focus of the story, baby, wangxian is. He has the last few lines of the story, which nicely communicate his changes to me, but also asdfafas we’re out of story. He was never the main character, it’s not surprising we don’t linger! The extras aren’t beholden to the needs of plot, but they’re also about whatever mxtx wanted to write, and I guess she didn’t feel like writing about Jiang Cheng ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

But also. Taking a step backward. Stable characters can fill a perfectly logical place in a story. Like, look at Leia Organa. I’m not saying she has no arc, but I am saying that she’s a solid point of reference as Luke is becoming a jedi and Han is adjusting his perspective. I wouldn’t call her stagnant, the vibes are wrong, but she also isn’t miserable in her sadness swamp, the way Jiang Cheng is.

Or, hell, look at tgcf. The stagnant, frozen nature of the big bad is a central feature of the story. The bwx of now is the bwx of 800 years ago is the bwx of 1500+ years ago. This is not the place for a meta on how that was bad for those around him and for him himself, but I have Thoughts about how being defeated at the end is both a thing that hurts him and relieves him. Mei Nianqing is a sympathetic character who’s also pretty darn static. Does Ling Wen have a character arc, or do we just learn more about who she already is and what her priorities always were? I’m going to cut myself off here, but a character’s delta between the beginning of a story and the end of a story is a reasonable way to judge how interesting writing character meta is, and is a very silly metric to judge their worth, and even if I guessed at what the basic logic is, for this character, I am still baffled that it’s being put forth as a real talking point.

(also, has it jumped ship to any other characters yet? have people started applying it in other fandoms as well? please let me know if this is the case, I am wildly curious)

(no, but really, if anyone is arguing that bwx is gross specifically because he had centuries to self-reflect and didn’t fix himself, i am desperate to know)

And finally. The thing I thought was most self-evident. Did I post about this sometime recently? If a non-central character experiences a life-altering paradigm shift right near the end of the story (without it being lingered over, because non-central character), oh my god. As a fic writer? IT’S FREE REAL ESTATE. This is the most fertile possible ground. If I want to write post-canon canon-compliant material, adsgasfasd that’s where I’m going to be looking. Okay, yeah, the main couple is happy, that’s good. Who isn’t happy, and what can I do about that? Happy families are all alike, while every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way, etc.

It’s not everyone’s favorite playground, but come on, these are not uncommon feelings. And frankly, it’s starting to feel a little disingenuous when people act like fan authors pick out the most blameless angel from the cast and lavish good things upon them. I’m not the only one who goes looking for a good dumpster fire and says I Live Here Now. If I write post-canon tgcf fic, it’s very likely to focus on beef and/or leaf. I have written more than one au focusing on tianlang-jun.

And, hilariously. If the problem with Jiang Cheng. Is that he is a toxic man fictional character who failed to grow on his own, and is either unsafe or unhealthy to be around. If the problem is that he did not experience a character arc. If these people would be totally fine with other people liking him, if he improved himself as a person. And then, if authors want to put in the (free! time-consuming!) work of writing that character development themselves. You would think that they would be lauded for putting the character through healthier sorts of personal growth than he experienced in canon. Instead, I am still here writing this because first, I was bothered by these authors being named as “freaks” who are obsessed with their ‘uwu precious tsundere baby’ with a “love language of violence,” and then I was graciously informed that people hate Jiang Cheng because he experiences no character growth.

[anagentinwriting]

Lifeline - Part 10

Summary: (First Responders!AU) Moving to Los Angeles and living with your brother, Thor, was never part of your plan nor was being a 9-1-1 dispatcher, but plans change when you are faced with your own emergencies. In your case, it was leaving behind a relationship that wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. Will this be the fresh start you were hoping for or will your past find a way to catch up with you?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Odinson!Sister Reader

Word Count: 3800+

Warnings: Angst, fluff, language

Lifeline Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Thor walked up to the gate to your condo to find a couple of guys installing a camera and a gate lock mechanism. “Hello, gentlemen. Who are you, and what are you doing to my sister’s gate?” Thor asked, crossing his arms across his chest. 

“Whoa, big guy.” The guy on the ladder held up his hands. “I’m Dave, and he’s Kurt. We’re from X-Con Security Consultants--” he pointed to his shirt with the name stitched on it “--and we’re installing a new security system update for Ms. Hill.”

“The lady asked for an installation, and we do it,” Kurt mentioned with a Russian accent.

“Huh, okay then, as you were, gentlemen.” He nodded, continuing through the gate and going to your front door. 

You were making a batch of your mom’s cookies when you heard an unexpected knock at the door. Setting down your cookie scoop, you wiped your hands clean to answer it. “Hey, Thor. Whatcha doing here? Thought you had a shift today.”

“I do, an overnight shift,” He pointed over his shoulder. “Why are their strange men at your front gate?”

“You’re one to talk, ladies man,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. You turned away from the door, allowing him to come in as you returned to the kitchen. “If memory serves me right, you had plenty of strange women over at strange hours of the day.”

“Come on, they were my friends,” Thor reasoned, following you to your kitchen. “I love women, but you know, not in a creepy way.” 

“Fine, if you must know, I mentioned to Maria about updating the front gate’s security system with a code and buzzer mechanism, and she thought it was a good investment for the property. The other tenants thought it was a great idea, too, so we're all going to pitch in and help pay for the upgrades. Plus, it will help me sleep better at night.”

“Oh, so it’s an investment. It’s not because you almost hit Steve with the bat the other day.” You averted your eyes to the cookie dough bowl, chewing on your bottom lip.  “This is what I didn’t want to happen, YN. I knew you would move out, and you wouldn’t feel safe and…”

“I know, Thor,” you interrupted him, your eyes connecting with his. “But, it’s going to take time for me to adjust and feel safe. This new gate code system will just help me sleep better at night because I will know who is here before I let them in.”

Thor nodded, keeping a watchful eye on you. “I understand, but why didn’t you tell me Billy contacted you?”

“I can’t rely on you every time,” You sighed, shrugging your shoulders. “I have to learn how to fight my own battles again, and you have to be able to trust me.”

“I DO!” He raised his voice, making you flinch, then he immediately dropped his voice. “It’s Billy I don’t trust, and if he thinks he can hurt you, again, he’s got another thing coming.”

“I know, I know.” You shake your head, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

“I just want you to know you're not alone here. You have me, Nat, Carol, and everyone else at the station.” He reached out, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You have improved so much since you arrived, and I don't want to see you revert back to your old ways. You have no idea how proud of you I am, and I trust you with whatever you decide to do. I want you to know I’m here for you.” You nodded with a small smile. “On another note, I’m glad you finally talked to someone about Billy.”

“You mean Steve.” You eyed him over, not missing the side grin appearing on his face. “Why did he tell you about what happened?” 

“He was worried about you and thought I should be aware of what occurred,” Thor replied, scratching his head. “When we work these long shifts together, we learn many things about each other; Stories are told, secrets are shared, and we learn to trust one another. Although he never did say why he stopped by that night?”

“He gave me a housewarming present.”

“Is that what they call it these days?” He winked with a carefree smile on his face. 

“Oh my god, STOP.” You felt your cheeks grow warm, throwing a ball of cookie dough at him. He caught it, chuckling and popped it in his mouth.

“You should see your face right now. All flushed and agitated.” He motioned to his face as you covered yours in your hands. “Your hands aren’t stopping that blush color coming through on your face. If I didn’t know any better, I would think you got a sun-burn, but let’s get to the real reason, you have a crush on Steve.”

You removed your hands from your face, staring him down. “Okay, sure…maybe I do. He’s a great guy with a caring personality but…but I’m not ready for a serious relationship.”

“Neither is he, that’s why you two are perfect for one another,” he grinned, making you shake your head. 

_____

Steve startled awake from something crashing to the floor in the communal kitchen. He sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes, and let out a long yawn. The last twelve hours have been a blur from the restaurant fire to a car accident to an ax-throwing competition. It felt like call after call came in with little to no recovery time in between. Steve glanced at his watch as he sat up and pulled on his boots. He sighed, realizing he only got about four hours of sleep, but lack of sleep comes with the territory. He ran his hands through his hair, walking into the kitchen, taking a seat at one of the stools by the island. 

“You’re up early,” Carol commented, sweeping up a broken dish.

“A crashing sound startled me awake,” he smirked, forcing her to roll her eyes.

Carol dumped the remnants of the ceramic dish in the garbage before grabbing two coffee mugs from the cabinet. She poured coffee into each of them and handed one to Steve. Steve nodded to her as a thank you and blew the steam off the top of the hot liquid. “Did you want a peanut butter and jelly sandwich or oatmeal with some peanut butter to go with your coffee?”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh please, don’t act all innocent. I know you’re the one who’s been eating Sam’s peanut butter, not Bucky.” Carol narrowed her eyes at him, and he raised his hands in surrender.

“Guilty,” he smirked. “It’s so good, though, especially in oatmeal. I’m still surprised they haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Those two share a deep tolerable dislike for each other that even I can’t explain how it works. They get along but don’t get along, but somehow work really well together. It shouldn’t work, but it works. I don’t know; it still baffles me. I’m sure if you confessed, Sam would think you were only covering for Bucky anyways.” She shook her head, and Steve nodded his head in agreement. 

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from those two,” Steve chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. 

“YN told you, didn’t she?”

“Told me what?”

“I might have overheard you and Thor talking about it, but she told you about Billy the douche?”

“Oh...um...yeah.” He shrugged. “I went to her house after she got a call from said douche, and she almost hit me with a bat.”

“Good,” Carol chirped as Steve snapped his head to her. “Well, not good she almost hit you, but good that he doesn’t have that control over her anymore.”

“I agree.” He stared down at the contents in his mug. “Billy sounds like a real piece of work.”

She hummed in agreement. “I know you’re a good guy, but I want you to know if you hurt her, I’ll kick your ass.”

“Oh, trust me, I would never hurt her like that, but I’m not ready for a relationship.” 

Carol smirked at his response, remembering you saying this whenever she tried to find you a new man. “What? Don't you like her?”

“No, no, it’s not like that at all. She’s…she’s great. It’s just…” Steve fumbled over his words.

“Oh, he hesitated,” Sam added, taking the stool next to Steve. Steve glanced at him, seeing a huge, gap-tooth smile on his face. “He’s into her.”

“It’s not that I’m not, it’s just that I have been through some things, and I know she has been through some things, very recently. I don’t want to push her if she’s not ready.”

“Well, you’re getting pushed into the friend zone, Steve,” Bucky added, taking the other stool next to him.

“Come on, don't say that...it's just...it's…”

“Called the friend zone,” Sam finished for Steve.

“Okay, fine, then why am I planning on hanging out with her later.”  

“Keyword is hangout as in not a date so…” Bucky dragged on.

“Friend zoned,” Sam and Bucky said in unison.

Steve shakes his head, letting out a big sigh. “You two are unbelievable, but at least you two finally agree on something.” Sam and Bucky both looked at each other with a slight shrug and nod. 

“Who are we speaking about,” Thor asked, patting Steve on the back.

“YN,” Carol smiled, forcing Steve’s eyes to meet hers.

“It’s not what you think. We were…”

“Steve wants to ask her out on a date,” Sam added, getting off the stool and walking over to the cabinet where his peanut butter was.

“Is that right? You--” he gestured to Steve with a slight smirk on his lips “--you want to date my sister.” Thor shook his head, letting out a soft chuckle, grabbing a mug from the cabinet and filling it up. “I like you, Steve, I do, and out of all these morons, I find you are the most suitable to date her. I think Loki may even approve of you, too, but he may be skeptical of you. He might even mock you upon meeting you, but he means well.”

“Thanks, but I wasn’t asking for your permission to do anything.”

“OOOOH, Thor, are you going to let him talk to you like that,” Sam hollered, pulling his peanut butter from the cabinet and unscrewing the lid.

“I didn’t mean it to come out like that.”

“Sure you didn’t,” Thor joked with a carefree smile. “Sure you didn’t,” he stated more seriously this time, eyeing Steve over, taking a sip of his coffee.

“GODDAMMIT, BUCKY! Why do you always eat my peanut butter? It wasn’t this empty the last time I opened it,” Sam shouted, giving Bucky a stern look as Carol shot Steve an all-knowing smirk.

_____

You stepped into Jabari Tribe Training Center, hearing the whirls of the jump ropes hitting the mats and the punches hitting the heavy bags. Everything in this gym was nerve-racking to you at first, but now it excited you. This gym was a little more run-down than most and could be unpleasant to some, but you found the dedicated atmosphere inspiring. 

You went to the locker room to get ready for your session, feeling your stomach tingling with nerves. Val had a last-minute schedule change at the station, so she wouldn’t be training you today; instead, she scheduled you with M’Baku, who in the ring was known as the Great Gorilla. You’ve watched him coach a few athletes, and he was intimidating. He stood tall and broad, and he’d always do his signature gorilla bark to get himself or his trainees fired up. He was a scary dude! Val knew your movements and boundaries, but this guy wouldn’t, and you weren’t sure how this session was going to go. 

You grabbed your boxing gloves and walked out to find M’Baku by the ring talking to one of his athletes. “Hey, M’Baku, I’m YN. Val mentioned you would be helping me with my session today.”

He looked at you with a stern glare and nodded to his trainee that they were finished. He looked back at you with a snarl on his lip before a smile broke out across his face. “Yes, you were told right. She told me about where you are, and I will say it’s impressive since you only started a few weeks ago.”

“Oh...um, thanks,” you smiled, feeling a warmth rush to your cheeks.

“Ready?” You nodded. “Okay, we will do some warm-up exercises, hit the heavy bag, ring work, stretch it out, and call it a day. Does that work for you?”

“Sounds great.”

“And if there is something you are not comfortable doing, or you don’t know what something is just ask. I won’t bite...hard.” He let out a deep chuckle, making you crack a smile.

“I will.”

“Let’s get started.”

It was a quick warm-up with some basic stretches, squats, jump ropes, and rowing. There were a few stretches you didn’t know what they were, and M’Baku showed you what to do and explained what muscles it was stretching. He couldn’t stress enough how stretching and warming up helped reduce injury and how it would improve your recovery time. M’Baku was knowledgeable, and you could tell he loved what he did.

Every time you worked on the heavy bag, it intimidated you because it was a constant mind game with yourself. You had to think about every punch you threw, making sure to hit it with your knuckles; otherwise, you could sprain your wrist, or worse, break it. You had to move around the bag with quick feet while throwing jabs, hooks, and uppercut punches. It wasn’t a natural feeling you had with the bag like many others did; this is why you preferred sparring in the ring.

You could feel his eyes watching you as you hit the bag with your straight and hook punches. The bag moved slightly as you switched positions and hit the bag from a different angle. 

“Okay, stop,” M’Baku called out, and you dropped your hands to your side. “I am not getting anything from you. You’re too quiet, stiff. Loosen up, girl, let out a grunt, roar, or better yet, bark. Do the…do the gorilla bark.” He raises his eyebrows at you, and you shake your head. 

“I’m not doing the gorilla bark,” you whizzed with your hands on your hips, taking deep breaths. He stared at you, narrowing his eyes before he started barking. “Still not doing it.” He stepped closer to you, barking louder as he walked circles around you. You rolled your eyes, taking a deep breath, and finally let out a bark.

His face broke into a smile, and he nodded. “Thata girl. Now get into it, have fun with it, don’t be so tense, loosen up, and jump around. I’ll demonstrate.” 

He takes his position at the bag, tapping it with his glove before doing a set of punches. It was almost like watching a dance. As it swayed, he would be quick and move and then attack with a series of different shots. He looked so relaxed that it didn’t even seem like he had to think about it. It was like second nature to him. 

“Alright, your turn,” He breathed, looking back at you.

You shake your head. “I got tired just watching you. You make it look so natural and easy.”

“It comes with practice, and it doesn’t help you're scared of the bag.” You nodded, giving him a half shrug. “Don’t be scared. Being scared only makes you feel weaker, so you won’t give it your all. Think of it like--” he paused, thinking “--taking a call at dispatch. If you’re afraid, you’ll overthink the situation and make a mistake. If you’re confident and think fast on your feet, it will lead to a better outcome. The more confident you are with yourself, the stronger you will become. Understand?”

“Yes,” you replied with a nod. “Thank you, I needed to hear that.”

Sparring in the ring was your favorite. It was the chance to learn how your opponent moved and how to throw a hard punch. With Val, you knew how she moved in the ring and could time when to throw a punch. With M’Baku, you didn’t know what to expect.

“We are not going to spare,” M’Baku stated as you both got into the ring. He had punching mitts on, and you had your boxing gloves on. “You’re not ready for this,” he chuckled, motioning to himself as you smirked in his direction. “We will do combo drills with your punching technique, watch your stance, and I'll give you a few pointers. I might even show you a few moves, so when you spare with Val again, she’ll wonder where you learned them.”

“I’m ready.”

You throw a few punches at his mitts. “You’re doing something wrong. Do you know what it is?”

 “Am I lifting my feet?” You heaved, wiping the sweat off your forehead. 

“So you do know,” he smirked, dropping his hands. 

“Val is always on me about that.”

“Do you know why she wants you to keep your feet planted?”

“It keeps me more grounded and gives me better balance. It also helps me hit my opponent harder. If I don’t plant my feet, I will be off-balance making me more vulnerable to my opponent's punches.”

“Good, yes. I’m glad my coaches are teaching their trainees.” He let out a deep chuckle. “Also, remember to breathe as you throw your punches. The worst thing you can do is forget to breathe.” You nodded.

After a few more rounds of drills and a lot of great advice from M’Baku, he ended the session.  You went to the side of the ring to get a drink of water. 

“YN, is there a reason you wanted to learn to box or did you wake up one morning and go, ‘I want to fight.’” He asked with curiosity in his eyes. 

You chuckled. “No, not really. I wanted to try something new for once instead of doing the same boring workouts. A friend of mine mentioned Val’s self-defense class, so I tried it out, and it was fun. Then, I asked her about boxing, I was sort of curious about it, and she offered to train me. Plus, it’s a good workout.”

“It is a great workout,” he chuckled. “Val is a wonderful coach and does a great job teaching that class. I’m glad you gave boxing a chance, and you like it so far.”

“It’s been fun,” you smiled with a nod. “And thanks for coaching me today.”

“Anytime,” he said, waving it off. 

M’Baku's other client showed up, so he told you what stretches to do to cool down and to drink plenty of water. Good hydration leads to better recovery. It was really different working out with M’Baku, but it was a good different. He came off as intimidating and cold, but he was the complete opposite. He was knowledgeable and helpful, and you couldn’t wait for your next session with Val to show her the moves he taught you. 

______

“Anyone have any exciting plans for the evening?” Thor asked, unloading the duffle bags from one of the hatches of the truck.

“Have a drink or two, and fall asleep on the couch,” Val stated, patting him on the back and walking over to restock the ambulance.

“Going to dinner with my girl,” Bucky winked with a smile on his face. 

“When are we finally going to get to meet this woman? I would like to have a conversation with her about what she sees in you.” Sam joked from the ambulance, earning an eye roll from Bucky.

“Why don’t you ask her yourself.” Bucky pointed to the door, forcing Sam to get out of the back of the ambulance and see Nat at the door.

“Good one, Bucky, but I’m being serious. When do we get to meet her,” Sam questioned, looking back at him. Bucky shook his head as Nat went over to Bucky and kissed him on the lips.

“Does that clear everything up, boys and girls? Bucky and I are dating.”

Steve smiled at them and got back to work reorganizing the hatches while Thor nodded, giving them a thumbs up.

“How...wait...when did this happen?” Sam narrowed his eyes at them.

“We have been dating for a couple of months now,” Bucky smiled down at Nat beside him.

“Way to go, Buck. Didn’t know you had it in you to handle her,” Val saluted him from the back of the ambulance.

“Nat, what the heck? I thought we shared a common enemy.”

“Sorry, Sam.” She shrugged with a tight smile. 

“And here I thought you two were going to keep it a secret,” Steve hinted. 

“Wait, you knew?”

“Yeah. It’s kind of old news these two.”

“Congratulations, but can everyone get back to work, so we can head home,” Carol redirected everyone, earning mumbled replies. 

______

You laid on the couch, turning a page in your book, when there was a buzzing sound at your front door, signaling someone was at the front gate for you. You got off the couch and looked at the new little monitor installed by the door to see Steve waving at the camera. You smiled, buzzing him in. You quickly glanced down at your worn-out t-shirt that had a few holes in it and decided to run up the stairs to find a sweater to cover it up. You were a hot mess, but you didn’t want to look like a hot mess. He knocked on the door as you came down the stairs to answer it.

“Hey, Steve! What's up?”

“I was in the neighborhood, and Thor told me about the security upgrade, so thought I'd check it out.”

“I didn't know you were into security systems,” you smirked, crossing your arms across your chest, leaning against the door frame.

“Oh yeah,” he huffed out, nodding his head. “I am very tech-savvy; whenever I don’t know something, I just Ask Jeeves.”

“Wait, Ask Jeeves?” You narrowed your eyes and burst out laughing. “That search engine with the Butler?” He nodded with a slight shrug, putting his hands in his front pockets. “That’s still around? Isn’t it ancient!”

“Is it?” He chuckled, his signature smirk tugging at his lips. “I’ve used it since high school, but I think the butler retired because it's called Ask now.”

You shook your head, laughing at his subtleness. You glanced over your shoulder at the blank tv screen and back at Steve, biting your lip. “I was actually gonna watch a movie if you wanted to join me.”

“Ahh--” he shifted back and forth on his heels “--yeah, sounds fun.” You nodded, opening the door and inviting him in.

____

Thanks for reading part 10! Looks like her and Steve are finally having a little date/hangout night?! Do you think Steve is getting friend zoned like Bucky and Sam suspect, or do you think he will finally make a move? Or will it be her? I thought it would be funny to throw in that old search engine, Ask Jeeves, some may remember it, some might not have any idea what it is. But I thought it would be a funny throwback and a joke about Steve's age! It's like using map quest and printing out directions instead of using the GPS these days! 😂😂 And what about Thor showing up and being the supportive brother after finding out what happened. He is definitely trying to be better, and he still has no problem teasing her a little bit! Haha! We also found out who the real peanut butter thief was, thanks to Carol for being the observant one! Haha! And isn’t M’Baku the best!! Anyways, comments, likes, and reblogs always welcome. Thanks again! 

[deancas-fanfiction]

A Daydream Away - Chapter 4

Word Count: 19k+

Summary: After multiple couples go missing from a resort in northern Minnesota, Dean and Cas are forced to pose as a couple to investigate the mysterious entity. As Dean and Cas navigate their fake relationship, it leaves Dean questioning what's real and forces him to confront his feelings for Cas.

A story in which Cas is human, Dean is sometimes an idiot, and Sam acts as matchmaker.

Tags: fake relationship, case fic, sharing a bed, human!cas, Sam ships Dean and Cas, fluff, eventual smut

also available on ao3

Dean awoke to his phone buzzing on the nightstand next to him. He squinted against the morning sun filtering into the room. He could feel that it was still early but he carefully reached for his phone nonetheless. Much like the day before, Cas was practically entangled with Dean. Today he was pressed against Dean's back, with their legs intertwined. Cas' arm was resting over Dean's waist. It all felt very possessive. That thought sent a thrill through Dean. Cas has always seemed like a possessive bastard but knowing he felt possessive over Dean unlocked a lot of complicated feelings that made Dean nearly blush.

The phone buzzed again, and Dean reached for it, careful not to move so much as to jostle Cas. He managed to reach it with his fingertips and dragged it to the edge until he could grab it. Dean unplugged it and saw he had a few texts from Sam.

'I found a potential lead last night at the staff happy hour. Call me tonight and I can fill you in after I finish some research.'

'Don't forget about your dinner reservation tonight at 7. Go to the main lodge and they'll direct you.'

Just as Dean was starting to type out a response, one last message came through. 'Hope you lovebirds are enjoying your honeymoon. Make sure you use protection' followed by a bunch of heart and kissy face emojis.

Dean rolled his eyes and typed out a bitchy response but ultimately assured Sam he'd call him before their dinner reservation. After sending the message, Dean glanced at the clock and saw it wasn't even eight. If they got up now, they may even make it to breakfast in time for the cinnamon rolls Jake and Amy raved about.

"Cas, wake up," Dean half-whispered, shaking him. Cas remained unmoved and fast asleep. "Cas." He said more urgently this time. "Get up." Still no movement. Dean tried a new tactic and shook him a little harder.

Cas frowned and rolled away from Dean, grumbling to himself but still fast asleep. His hair was sticking in different directions and his shirt was bunched up, revealing a tan expanse of skin on his lower back. Dean poked him a few more times but Cas was unmoving and snoring lightly.

Dean rolled his eyes and decided to just get the damn cinnamon rolls himself. He wasn't going to miss out because Cas is a grumpy bastard in the morning. To soften the blow of attempting to wake him before 9, Dean started a pot of coffee in the cabin's kitchen for Cas to enjoy when he awoke. Then he threw on his jacket, grabbed his keys, and was off towards the lodge.

Sure enough, Jake and Amy were correct -- this was the perfect time to grab breakfast. There were few couples and families milling around, otherwise most of the tables were empty and there was no line at the buffet. Dean grabbed two to-go boxes and filled them with eggs and bacon for himself, pancakes and syrup packets for Cas, and of course a few of the large mouthwatering cinnamon rolls set up by the coffee station. He was attempting to close the lid on the full box when he made eye contact with Amy.

"I see you took our advice to get the cinnamon rolls," She smiled and grabbed one for herself.

"You two made them sound so good, how could we resist?" Dean flashed her a victorious smile as the lid gave in and finally shut. "Besides, Cas has a total sweet tooth, there's no way we would ever leave without him trying them."

"Yeah, Jake is the same way. If it were up to him, he would have pure sugar for breakfast. Before we started dating, he would have mountain dew and twizzlers for breakfast."

Dean wrinkled his nose. "That sounds like a college student's wet dream."

Amy threw her head back and laughed. "Precisely! I'm going to use that. The man is in his thirties, sometimes I think he even forgets that." She shook her head, a wistful smile forming on her face. "He wanted to have a candy buffet at our wedding. It took forever to talk him down from that idea."

"A candy bar sounds awesome," Dean pointed out. He paused and looked at her expression. "Oh God -- you don't mean as dessert, do you?"

"No, he wanted that for the dinner buffet!"

Dean laughed loudly. "That's something Cas would do. If we had a wedding -- I mean, a large wedding -- I'm sure he would have preferred if we just serve peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner. They're his favorite."

"That's actually adorable. And it would make for a cheap reception dinner."

Dean nodded in agreement as he poured coffee in a to-go cup in case the cabin coffee isn't up to Cas' standards. "Careful, if he were to hear that, he would totally hold that against me and be all pissy we didn't actually do that. Then I would have no choice but to tell Jake his candy-dinner-buffet is genius."

"Okay, okay truce! I won't say anything about the sandwiches." She responded, laughing.

Dean returned her smile. "Good thinking. You wouldn't want twizzlers and mountain dew as your wedding dinner."  He grabbed the to-go boxes and coffee carrier, carefully balancing them in his arms. "Well, I better bring this back to Cas before the cinnamon rolls cool down. I know he'd want to experience them in their warm and gooey glory."

"Of course, enjoy! Tell him I say hi and that's it -- nothing else at all relating to sandwiches." She winked.

Dean playfully rolled his eyes and slowly made his way back to the car, without catching sight of Sam. Probably for the better anyway, he'd likely make some kind of dick comment about bringing Cas breakfast in bed. Which -- okay, may be true. But that's only because Cas refused to wake up this morning and he didn't want to miss out on the famous cinnamon rolls. And sure, if he was with Sam, he wouldn't have brought him anything back and would have just said "you snooze, you lose, Sammy. You can eat oatmeal and yogurt like the rest of the late sleepers."  But that was part of being the older brother -- you get free reign to be a dick sometimes.

And! Cas is his fake husband! This is totally something a married couple would do for each other, Dean reasoned. So it's not weird or a romantic gesture. And okay, maybe there was a moment last night after they went sledding down the hill. At least, to him it felt like there was a moment where he wanted to kiss Cas and Cas -- well, it seemed like Cas wanted that, too. Or maybe it was just part of the case. There's really no way to know, except y'know, talking about it. But that sounded about as appealing as eating one of Sam's "nutrient rich" meals, whatever the hell those consisted of. All Dean knew was that it was mostly of veggies and no meat, so he didn't want any part in it.

Regardless, Dean wasn't going to be the one to bring it up. If he was imagining something between them, he'd never be able to recover from the embarrassment. Besides, he didn't want to ruin their friendship. For the first time, Cas has agreed to stay with them, and Dean refuses to do or say anything that would make Cas uncomfortable, thus driving him out of the bunker and away from Dean. Not for the first time in the last few days, he bitterly wished he knew what was going on in Cas' head.

By the time Dean returned to the cabin, Cas was sitting up in bed, blurry eyed with a frown etched on his face.

"Good morning, sunshine!" Dean chirped, setting the food down on the bed.

"Do I smell coffee?" Cas grunted.

"Sure do. I put a pot on and brought you a cup from the lodge. Here you go," He handed over the cardboard cup and settled next to him on the bed. Cas' frown eased as he began gulping down the coffee. "I tried waking you so we could get cinnamon rolls, but you were not having it."

"Sorry," Cas said sheepishly. "I don't even remember."

"You and your damn sleep," Dean muttered, opening the cartons of food. "Good thing you have a really thoughtful husband who ventures out into the frozen tundra that is northern Minnesota to obtain cinnamon rolls."

"Yes, good thing." Cas agreed softly. He tipped his cup back, draining the remaining of his coffee.

"Jesus, Cas. It's been like two minutes."

"It's good coffee. If you want me to also be a 'thoughtful husband,' then you should be thankful for my high caffeine intake first thing in the morning."

"Yeah, I remember that time we ran out of coffee at the bunker. You were on a warpath. Sam hid in the dungeon because you nearly called him an 'abomination' again."

"Yes, Dean. I recall. I already apologized to your brother for that."

Dean took a bite of bacon, amused. "Hey, I thought it was funny. I'm just glad you didn't turn on me, too."

"You're the one that went to the store to supply me with more coffee."

"Jesus, you make it sound like I'm your dealer or something."

"You may as well be," He pointed out, grabbing Dean's cup of coffee and taking a long drink of it.

"Yeah, yeah. Eat your damn breakfast. Those cinnamon rolls better be worth the trouble."

Cas opened his mouth, surely to respond with some sassy comment but at the last moment thought better of it and took a large bite of the cinnamon roll. The sound that emitted from his mouth was absolutely sinful.

"Oh my God, Dean." He moaned. "This is amazing."

"You want a room for just the two of you?"

"What do you mean?" Cas tilted his head as he chewed thoughtfully. "We have a room, we're in it right now."

"I -- never mind, Cas. It was a joke. It's that good, huh?"

"Yes, you must try it." He tore off a piece of his cinnamon roll and held it up to Dean's mouth. "Eat it." He ordered.

And wow, okay. The demanding tone from Cas was really working for Dean. He hesitantly leaned forward and took the piece into his mouth. His tongue momentarily brushed against Cas' finger and he swore that he saw Cas' pupils dilate. Huh.

"Yeah, 's good, Cas."

Cas looked pleased with himself and continued eating it in silence, the only sounds in the room were his small moans as he finished it off. Dean felt dazed and forced himself to finish his own breakfast.

"Dean, you have --"

"What?"

"Just, let me -- you have icing on your mouth." Cas leaned forward so he was in Dean's space and slowly dragged his finger along Dean's bottom lip. Against his lip, the pad of his finger felt calloused and rough. Cas' gaze flickered to Dean's lips before they focused on Dean's eyes.

Wait. Is he going to -- ? Dean's brain immediately stopped working as Cas held his gaze and put his finger in his mouth, sucking the frosting off it. Holy fuck, if that wasn't the hottest thing he'd ever seen. Dean knew his mouth was agape and he probably looked like an idiot but he couldn't find the strength to care. Cas basically licked frosting off of him. His pink, plump lips were wrapped around his long finger and Dean's brain not-so-helpfully supplied a lot of fantasies relating to that.

Cas pulled his finger out of his mouth and went back to drinking Dean's coffee with a little smirk on his face. Asshole.

"I, uh -- I'm going to take a shower." Dean mumbled and hurried out of the room.

Dean hurried from the room and locked himself in the bathroom. He leaned against the heavy oak door and took a deep breath. Was it his imagination or was Cas flirting with him? Why else would he suck the icing off his finger like that? Sure, Cas used to have that whole 'innocent angel' going for him but now he's human and he actually acts like it. Probably Dean's bad influence, but whatever. The point is Cas had to know what he was doing, right? No one in their right mind would clean icing from their friend's face and then lick it off if they didn't want to be more than friends.

The worst part is that it was really fucking hot. Dean was already struggling to suppress his feelings for Cas and that nearly pornographic display was really not helping. But maybe he didn't need to actively suppress those feelings, not if Cas felt the same way. But did he? Dean still couldn't be sure. If Cas truly was messing around or didn't understand the connotation of his actions, then Dean would be fucking mortified. Regardless, he couldn't keep sitting around waiting for something to happen between them. So he'll push their boundaries a little and see how Cas reacts. Hopefully then he'll get a better idea of where they stand.

Dean rolled his eyes at himself for how complicated he's making this. If only he felt comfortable straight up asking Cas, but that's never been his style. At last, he peeled himself from the door and turned on the shower. He undressed and briefly considered taking an ice-cold shower to calm himself down, but he changed his mind. Turning the temperature dial to hot, he decided to address his not-so-little problem. After all, he would need to have his mind clear if he was going to read Cas for any indications of his feelings.

He stepped under the shower and nearly groaned as the hot water washed over him. The water pressure was excellent and soothed his sore muscles. His thoughts immediately turned to Cas as he began to stroke himself. The image of Cas’ pink lips sucking on his finger filled his mind as he expertly flicked his wrist around the tip. He imagined those lips around him instead and within no time he was groaning Cas’ name as he spilled into his fist.

---

Dean and Cas spent their afternoon lounging on the couch watching movies. Once Cas became human, Dean compiled a list of movies that Cas needed to watch. Most were movies that came out after Metatron uploaded all of the pop culture references into his mind so that way Cas could truly watch something for the first time. However, Dean snuck a few of his favorites onto the list like the Harry Potter series, Lord of the Rings, and a few spaghetti westerns. When Dean saw there was a Star Wars marathon on tv (another series on the list) Dean declared they would be having a lazy afternoon until it was time for the bourbon tasting.

This brings them to where they are now: sitting with their backs against opposite arms of the couch, legs tangled together under a large shared blanket and the box of chocolates from their honeymoon package sitting half eaten between the two.

Cas grabbed another piece of chocolate out of the heart shaped box, humming happily as he chewed.

"Which character is your favorite?" Cas asked, as he swallowed the candy.

"Han Solo, hands down."

"I should have known."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, come on, Dean. The parallels between you and his character are so obvious. You have the whole 'I'm better off alone' thing going for you, even though deep down you're really caring and would do anything to save your family."

Right. Cas has always been able to read him perfectly. "Whatever, man. Han Solo is cool. And Harrison Ford is a good looking dude." Dean snuck a glance at Cas to see if he'd react to that.

"I suppose," Cas acknowledged, tilting his head as he surveyed Dean. If anything, he seemed curious with a glint in his bright eyes.

"So, uh - let me guess. Your favorite character is Princess Leia?" Dean ventured.

"Actually, yes. She's always out for the victory of many, rather than personal gain. Leia is very brave and independent, too."

"Yeah, I can see why she would be your favorite. It's like you -- always working towards the greater good."

Cas smiled at Dean and his eyes crinkled around the corners. He looked so happy and so human in this moment that Dean was almost tempted to just blurt out his feelings for the man. Almost.

Instead, he threw a piece of chocolate at Cas, which he caught in his mouth, looking very pleased with himself. "You're a dork," Dean said fondly, rolling his eyes.

"I know."

"Did you just Han Solo me?"

Cas looked amused and just turned his attention back to the movie. That asshole totally Han Solo'd him.

- - -

By the time the movie ended, it was nearly time for the bourbon tasting. Dean forced himself up from the couch that had no business being so comfortable, so he could get dressed for the day. He quickly threw on some dark jeans, a t-shirt and a blue button down, which he left open. Deeming it satisfactory for the day, he threw on a coat and waited by the door for Cas to be ready.

While he waited, Dean shot off a text to Sam asking how research was going. Sam immediately responded with 'slow' and an eye rolling emoji. Dean was about to reply and rub it in Sam's face that he gets to go drink bourbon while Sam is stuck reading tomes, but it was at that moment that Cas came out of the bathroom. He was clad in black jeans that were mouthwateringly tight and one of Dean's Zepp shirts. He had become so accustomed to Cas' pristine suit and tie ensemble that sometimes seeing him dressed so casually in Dean's clothes, nonetheless, causes Dean's brain to stop working.

"Am I underdressed?" Cas asked, eyeing Dean warily. "Should I throw on a button down like you?"

"God, no." Dean said, internally wincing at the hoarseness of his voice. "I mean -- it's just a bourbon tasting. You don't have to dress up or anything." Besides, it would be an absolute crime to cover those arms. They were tanned and muscly and Cas should always wear t-shirts to show them off because damn. Dean so badly wanted to run his hands along them, feeling the muscles flex under his touch.

Cas threw on his jacket, interrupting Dean's train of thought. God, it's like he reverted back to a 14-year old's body with the way it constantly responds to Cas.

"Ready?"

"Ready," Cas confirmed, sliding on his Grand View mittens with a soft smile.

The bourbon tasting wasn't very crowded. High-top tables filled the room but only about seventy-five percent were filled. Dean and Cas grabbed a table towards the back of the room so they could keep an eye on everyone. Each table only had 2 chairs which were facing towards the front where the speaker would be. Dean realized this must be another 'couples only' event. The room was dimly lit with dark wood paneled walls, making it feel very warm and intimate. Small table lamps were on each table, along with two flights of bourbon glasses with 5 shot glasses each.

"Cas, are you going to be able to handle this? 5 shots of bourbon is a lot, this shit is strong. I don't want to have to carry you out of here."

Cas sat in the chair to the right and rolled his eyes. "I can handle my liquor just fine, Dean. You've taught me well."

"Hell, I suppose that's true." Dean joined him, sitting in the remaining chair. He scooted his chair closer to Cas and rested his arm on the back of Cas' chair.

"Right," Cas murmured. "We better get in character." He leaned in against Dean's side and rested his hand on Dean's upper thigh. It was enough inches above the knee that it certainly wasn't an innocent placement. His hand was a welcome weight on his thigh and Dean moved his arm so as to rest his hand on Cas' shoulder. He got a small smile in response, letting him know that was okay so Dean rubbed his thumb in circles against it. A soft sigh escaped Cas' mouth which was frankly adorable.

"Did Sam say he found anything else about his lead?" Cas asked, leaning into Dean's ear. Goosebumps prickled along his neck in response.

"Not yet," Dean muttered. "He said he's doing research but hasn't found anything concrete. We'll give him a call after this, we'll have some time to kill before our dinner reservations."

Cas nodded. "I feel like we haven't done much to help move this case along. I do not want Sam to feel like he's doing all of the work."

"I know. But we knew we were unlikely to get any information from guests. All we can really do is try to lure whatever it is and go from there."

"I suppose." Cas chewed on his bottom lip and Dean wanted nothing more than to release his bottom lip and kiss it. Maybe bite it, then smooth it over with a swipe of his tongue. What kind of sounds would Cas make?

"Dean."

"Hmm?" Dean dragged his eyes from Cas' lips to his eyes. His pupils were blown wide, leaving only a small ring of blue.  Another look he wasn't used to reading on Cas.

"Kiss me."

"What?"

"We need to move the case along. Kiss me."

Right. The case. That's why Cas wants to kiss him. No other reason. Dean sighed, a little dejected. He was hoping to avoid this because he knows once he does, it's going to be torture knowing what it's like to kiss Cas without being able to do it again whenever he wants.

"Are you su--?" Dean didn't get to finish his sentence because with a frustrated growl, Cas grabbed the collar of Dean's shirt and pulled him in, pressing their lips together. It started chaste.  A dry press of their lips, soft and warm and innocent. Then Cas sighed into Dean's mouth and made a small sound in the back of his throat. And that made Dean absolutely feral.

His fingers pressed into Cas' hips as he licked into his mouth. He was warm and tasted like honey and chocolate. The smell of his aftershave surrounded him, and it was all just so delicious. Their lips perfectly slotted together, and the kiss was slow and languid, like they all had night and could take their time exploring each other. Dean always imagined their first kiss would be frantic and rough, filled with the unresolved sexual tension from over the course of ten years. He never imagined it could be so sweet, yet so hot. It was everything he'd been waiting for and so much more. Except that it still wasn't enough. He needed more -- he needed to feel Cas against him, he needed to explore every part of him and kiss him so hard that he becomes dazed and all he can do is chant Dean's name like a prayer.

Distantly, a door slammed shut, reminding the two that they were in a very public place, and not in the privacy of their cabin. They jumped apart, flushed and hearts pounding. Dean stared at Cas, his lips were parted, red and swollen, as he breathed heavily.

Dean momentarily closed his eyes, breathing through his nose as he tried to calm his body down. The last thing he needed was for someone to see he was rock hard at a bourbon tasting. He peeked at Cas, who looked just as debauched.

"Jesus, Cas." Dean groaned. One kiss and he was completely hooked. How the hell would he ever be able to look at Cas and his mouth and not think about kissing him?

"Sorry," He nervously licked his lips. "I may have gotten carried away."

"You -- ? No, man. If anything, I got carried away. It's just -- ah, it's been a while since someone kissed me like that. That's all."

Cas nodded, his small smile back. "I'm glad I didn't make you uncomfortable."

Dean laughed humorlessly. In reality, it just solidified his attraction for the guy and he's pretty sure that kiss is going to be the thing that ultimately kills him. "If anything, we just made sure we're target number one."

Something flickered on Cas' face, but it was gone before he could get a good read on it. Before he could analyze too heavily, the speaker greeted everyone and began giving an overview of the brands of bourbon poured out in front of them.

Dean half-listened as he introduced himself and gave his credentials. He told Cas it had been a while since he'd been kissed like that, but truthfully had he ever been kissed like that? He didn't think so.

"The first glass in front of you is Old Forester 1897. From Kentucky, Old Forester is known for making affordable high-quality bourbon," The man explained. "Tasting this first glass, you should note rich vanilla with roasted coffee notes and spiced overnotes. This one is big and bold, with a dark caramel finish. Take the next few minutes to try this one and discuss it with your partner. I recommend trying it in sips, focusing on each of the flavors I mentioned. Enjoy!"

Quiet conversation broke out in the room. Dean sniffed the amber liquid and his mouth nearly watered. Typically, he drinks the cheap stuff because that's what is always around. So, having the opportunity to taste some high-quality bourbon put Dean in an instant good mood. Any awkwardness from the kiss quickly faded and Dean was grateful for the distraction.

"Cheers," Dean said happily. He clanked his shot glass against Cas and drank it all in one go. It burned down his throat into his chest and instantly he felt the warmth spread through him. And now that the guy mentioned it, yeah, he could taste the hint of caramel.

"You were supposed to sip it." Cas frowned. "Not drink it all at once."

"It was just a recommendation, Cas. You can drink it however you want."

Cas didn't look happy with Dean's answer and took another sip of the bourbon. Dean watched as Cas' throat swallowed the bourbon and suddenly he was regretting drinking it all in one go. Watching Cas savor the drink made him wish he had something to distract himself with.

He quickly tore his eyes away from Cas' mouth for the millionth time that day. "What do you think, Cas?"

"I like it. It makes me feel...warm."

Dean laughed. "Yeah, bourbon will do that to you. It's the best drink to have in winter for that exact reason."

The bourbon man clapped his hands together to gather everyone's attention. "I see most of you have finished the 1897, so I'll move forward onto the next one. This next one is perfect for the colder months - "

Dean lifted his eyebrows at Cas as if to say see, I told you so. Cas smiled and turned his attention back to the speaker.

" - it is another Old Forester bourbon, but this one is the 1910. It has notes of cherry, dark chocolate, maple syrup and a hint of spice. For those of you who prefer sweet to spice, this is the bourbon for you." He continued sharing trivia about the Old Forester brand and the barrels used to make these bottles. "Now that I've given you all time to clear your taste pallets, enjoy the 1910!"

Dean focused this time on savoring the glass instead of drinking it in one large gulp. He had to admit, Cas was right. When he took the time to savor the flavors he could actually pick up on the cherry and dark chocolate. Before all he tasted was the burn of it.

"I really like this one." Cas announced. His cheeks were a little pink from the alcohol which Dean thought was endearing as hell. "I like the maple syrup flavor."

"When we get home, I'll have to introduce you to the finer bottles of whiskey I've been saving for a special occasion. You'll love it."

Cas titled his head. "But you said you're saving it for a special occasion?"

"Hell, Cas. We saved the world and we're all together. It can't get more special than that."

"I suppose not."

The rest of the tasting continued the same. The speaker would explain the bourbon they were tasting and include some interesting facts (all bourbon is whiskey but not all whiskey is bourbon) and sometimes some gross ones (like before there were strict FDA regulations, distilleries used to include substances like tobacco spit and dirt in their whiskey barrels for flavor) and by the time they finished their fifth and final glass, Dean and Cas were feeling the effects of the bourbon. Cas more so, his speech was a little slurred but he could hold himself upright just fine. He was in that perfect tipsy zone and Dean wasn't far behind him.

The lodge offered a free shuttle service for everyone back to their cabins so the guests wouldn't have to stumble back to their cabins in the cold. Dean happily took them up on that service because he knew he wasn't in the right state to drive. The shuttle was a small bus with only a few rows of seats. They grabbed a seat in the back while a few of the other couples from the class climbed in.

With a low rumble, the shuttle started and lurched forward. It headed along the road towards Dean and Cas' cabin, making stops along the way for the other guests. Cas leaned into Dean's side and sighed happily, nuzzling his face in the crook of Dean's shoulder.

"Mmm, 's nice." His voice was muffled against Dean's coat. "You're warm."

"You're drunk."

"Just a little," He pressed a kiss to his shoulder and Dean's breath hitched. Was this part of the act or was this Cas with his guard down? He leaned more into Dean and gripped Dean's arm. To any onlooker, there would be no doubt they're a couple. That thought sent a little thrill through Dean, secretly pleased by that idea. Who knew he was so possessive?

The bus stopped at the access road leading up to their cabin, so Dean nudged Cas and ushered him off the bus. They stepped out into the cold and Dean felt it sober him up a little. Cas must have felt the same because he was holding himself up straighter and his eyes seemed a little less cloudy. They trudged up the road leading to their cabin and Dean grabbed a hold of Cas' hand, noting the small smile which formed.

"Should we call Sam?"

"Yes, good idea." Dean pulled out his phone with his free hand and dialed Sam's number. It rang a few times then went to voicemail. "Did he reject my call?"

"That seems very out of character for Sam."

Dean tried again. On the second ring he picked up, sounding out of breath. "Dean?"

"Dude, did you reject my call?"

"Uh, sorry. I was - uh in the middle of something."

Dean and Cas exchanged a confused look. "Why are you out of breath? I know you're not running in this weather."

"No reason. I just -- what's up? Are you guys alright?"

"Dean and I drank bourbon at the tasting and now I feel really warm," Cas announced.

"Are you guys drunk?" Sam sounded amused.

"No!" They both said in unison.

"Just, tell me about the lead you found."

"Oh, right! I don't really know much yet. But last night at happy hour the staff was talking about local legends and there was this one that targets young people in love. I don't remember the name of it, but it sounded like it fit the bill. The locals didn't know much that sounded helpful so I'm having Donna look into it."

"That sounds promising," Cas agreed. "Do you remember any other details?"

"Not any that are helpful. I had to really sift through a lot of stuff that isn't our kind of thing. You know how these legends get so twisted over the years."

"Well, keep us posted if Donna finds anything."

"Yeah, will do. Just hang tight until --"

A loud crash echoed over the phone and a woman's voice carried through, saying something intelligible.

"Sam." Dean warned. "Who's there with you?"

"Um --"

"So help me -- if you are with another woman I'm going to be pissed. Eileen is so beyond your league and the fact that you're even willing to risk that..."

"Shit." Sam sighed over the phone. "Switch to facetime."

Dean did as Sam said and was greeted with Sam's anxious face. "So uh -- Eileen is here." He turned the camera and was greeted by Eileen smiling sheepishly.

Cas signed something to Eileen and she laughed in response. Dean focused the camera back on his face so Eileen could read his lips. "What are you doing in Minnesota?"

"My hunt in Iowa wrapped up early, so I came up here to join Sam."

"I thought your hunt was in Ohio?" Cas questioned.

Eileen had a look that was equal parts sympathy and panic on her face as she handed the phone back to Sam.

"Sam, what the hell? Was Eileen not actually on a hunt?"

"No." He admitted. "She wasn't."

"Then why the hell did you send us on this hunt when you two could have done it?"

Now Sam just looked uncomfortable and Dean suddenly realized what was going on. "You've got to be kidding me." Sam opened his mouth to respond but Dean cut him off. "Nope. Not discussing this with you. Not now, not ever. We have to go, keep us updated on the case."

"Bye!" Eileen yelled from the background before the screen went black.

"I don't understand what just happened." Cas said, looking genuinely confused. "What did Sam do?"

"He set us up! To take this case when he and Eileen could have done it."

"But what did he set us up with?"

"Each other, Cas." Dean said strained.

"Oh." He squeaked and blushed furiously.

Oh.

Oh.

Maybe he wasn't going to kill Sam after all.

[breadfractals]

3, 17, 22!

THANK YOUU 😊

3. What were your top five books this year?

- To be perfectly honest, I can barely remember and separate out what I read specifically in this year (we can blame it on the 2020, shall we) buuut out of what I can think of

1. Just Mercy had such a beautifully nuanced take to the concept of justice, and how it is irrevocably wrapped up in compassion (truly living up to its title) and agape love that it made me weep on the twelfth page. It is frank and honest with the tragedies and horrors that can accompany our broken world, but it is still hopeful and uplifting, using those horrors as a reminder for us all to have even more grace for one another. It also delights in the small joys and triumphs that occur when we treat each other with kindness decency and when we act with integrity - the loveliness of an offer for a glass of iced tea, or the promise to fight for someone even when it looks hopeless. I could go on and on... but gosh. 😭 Stevenson is so unpretentious yet eloquent in his presentation of the stories he has seen.

- “The only thing they needed was hope. Not that pie in the sky stuff, not a preference for optimism over pessimism, but rather “an orientation of the spirit.” The kind of hope that creates a willingness to position oneself in a hopeless place and be a witness, that allows one to believe in a better future, even in the face of abusive power. That kind of hope makes one strong.

2. The Lord Of The Rings needs no explanation, right? I have yet to complete my reread, but I haven’t done a good revisit for many years now, so even my splintered attempt at tackling Fellowship was joyous. Reading each chapter makes me feel like coming home, even with all the bits and bobs I had forgotten or missed from before. There is such a delicious comfort to the tale, even in the moments of tension and grief, and I think part of it has to do with the fact that it believes in something much bigger than itself. There are men of character and honor who feel and fight for what is just and true, and they do so unironically and unabashedly, and isn’t that so wonderful! (I use the word “men” there quite deliberately- it is not a slight at the women who deserve whole posts of their own some time, nor a synonym of “humanity” - rather, I have missed stories that let men be strong and weak and flawed and vulnerable and... people.)

DON’T GET ME STARTED ON THE FRIENDSHIPS I WILL START CRYING

OR THE POETRY

OR SONGS

OR

AhhhhHH

*ahem* Maybe I need to. make this a separate post.

heyo, I love Tom Bombadil.

- “‘Was I chosen?’

‘Such questions cannot be answered,’ said Gandalf. ‘You may be sure that it was not for any merit that others do not possess: not for power or wisdom, at any rate. But you have been chosen, and you must therefore use such strength and heart and wits as you have.

3. The Way Of Kings is largely significant to me because of the discussions it inspired this year - my good friend lent it to me (it’s his favorite book), my dear Beastwaffle picked it up after me and FINISHED before me, and my dad, excited at the prospect of a new fantasy series to try, read it right after I did. I had a bit of trepidation while starting, because although I like Sanderson’s writing style, his metaphysics hurt my head at times, but I did very much enjoy reading the story, and he always gives me plenty of food for thought even when I think he’s wrong! I am a sucker for themes of honor and friendship and stew, so the main plotline held me firmly in place, and the main character’s constant desire to PROTECT AND SHOULDER THE WORLD resonated perhaps a bit too strongly.

But most of all, I liked (and felt bad about) terrorizing my friend with my criticisms and endless questions, and engaging with my dad and beastwaffle. :)

I am realizing all of these books could use posts of their own..

- “And so, does the destination matter? Or is it the path we take? I declare that no accomplishment has substance nearly as great as the road used to achieve it. We are not creatures of destinations. It is the journey that shapes us. Our callused feet, our backs strong from carrying the weight of our travels, our eyes open with the fresh delight of experiences lived.”

4. Love Does is just a bundle of joy, and a refreshing reminder that, as important as critical, studious theology is, so is faith like a little child’s. Bob Goff’s excited sense of wonder and love of moving is infectious and reminds me to rejoice! always! and to put peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on top of my future spouse’s car!

- “We aren’t just supposed to be observers, listeners, or have a bunch of opinions. We’re not here to let everyone know what we agree and don’t agree with, because, frankly, who cares? Tell me about the God you love; tell me about what He has inspired uniquely in you; tell me about what you’re going to do about it...”

5. Anne Of Green Gables will forever by my girl. Deliciously flawed and beautifully real in her embrace of feeling everything deep within her bones... I’ll never get over it.

- “I'm not a bit changed--not really. I'm only just pruned down and branched out. The real ME--back here--is just the same. It won't make a bit of difference where I go or how much I change outwardly; at heart I shall always be your little Anne, who will love you and Matthew and dear Green Gables more and better every day of her life.”

Boy oh BOY THAT WAS LONG. Was I only supposed to list the five titles? Oh dear. Thank you for bearing with me, anyone who reads this.

17. The Way of Kings, I suppose! I mostly reread books this year, which is nothing out of the ordinary, but I think I gravitated towards older, familiar stories for comfort especially. But I do have a chronic habit of being suspicious when I read Sanderson, so I was happy with how much meat he gave me to sink my philosophical teeth into, especially.

22. Probably the above! Or The Food Lab, though I’m not quite done with it yet.

Thank you for the ask~~~!

[marmolady]

Livita: Part Two

Book/Series: Endless Summer

Main Pairings: Estela x MC/Taylor (f)

Summary: Post-ending. Freed from Vaanu, Taylor has been building a life with her soulmate… but their family remains not quite complete. Read PART ONE and PART THREE.

Word Count: 3545

Reviews and reblogs are hugely appreciated!

Tagging: @sceptilemasterr​ @saivilo​ @greengroove 

San Trobida, March 2023

 The months initially dragged by; the nervous wait for those vital early milestones agonising. Life had taught Estela that nothing good ever came easily; at any moment this could all turn to tragedy-- she woke up each morning with no expectation that she wouldn’t have lost the baby by the next. Taylor was far more secure in her optimism, though at times it did threaten to crumble. Some five weeks in, the pair were married, officially, in the grounds of Catalyst International’s new San Trobidan resort, surrounded, of course, by their extended family. At the end of the night, Estela had said ‘screw you’ to fate, and confided her condition to her tio, who had wept with joy. His belief in her, the support unyielding as always, did wonders to help her through those most vulnerable days.

After the twelve week scan, there was a joint exhale of relief, and the reality that this was happening at last began to set in. Through those early months, home was San Trobida with Tio Nicolas. In time, Estela and Taylor would return to La Huerta, where they had always planned to raise their child, close to Aleister and Grace’s own little family, and to Diego and Varyyn. Estela would not be fit to travel for a whole lot longer, though, so the time spent with her uncle was precious.  While in San Trobida, Taylor was faced with a rush to establish her youth programmes during the brief window in which she’d be available with her full attention. The country was in the midst of a great rebirth, its people boldly stepping out from the shadows left by the cruel dictatorship that the revolutionaries had brought to its knees. To be able to play her own part in that story was, to Taylor, an immense honour, and a responsibility she took very seriously. Those fleeting months were intense, with meetings on top of meetings and enough networking to test even her people skills. Once the baby arrived, everything else would take a back seat, and her role would be as a part-time counsellor specialising in LGBTQ+ youth, and a mentor to students-- all of which she could carry out from their La Huerta home.

Estela had slowly dialed back her role with Catalyst International-- with both herself and Aleister on parental duties, delegation had become increasingly necessary. She kept up with the few bits and pieces that interested her, primarily assistance and scholarships for San Trobidan students, which allowed her to work nicely in tandem with Taylor, but anything else could be someone else’s problem. Staying with her uncle, a sense of peace had descended upon Estela. Her body gradually changed-- and morning sickness had plagued her-- but she took it in her stride.

The front door creaked as Taylor strode through. “Honey, I’m home!” She found Estela sitting cross-legged on the couch, leafing through a collection of baby sewing patterns. “Hey, are you feeling better?”

“Better. You didn’t have to come home….”

“As if I need an excuse to be with you.” Taylor crossed the room, and sat herself beside her wife. “I finished what I needed to get done. So, I got myself back to where I needed to be.”

Estela huffed happily. “I won’t complain. Maybe we could work on that blanket some more. You know how much of a kick Tio gets out of the sight of me knitting.”

“Yeah,” Taylor giggled. “He laughs, but I’m pretty sure he knows you are more than capable of disemboweling someone with those needles if a threat came up.”

“Of course. A spear could never be so subtle.”

They laughed together, then Estela took Taylor’s hands. “Actually, I wanted to share something with you, in my room. We can knit at the same time.”

Estela’s old room had changed little since she was a teenager; it was a cramped but cosy space, decked out with just a few shelves of childhood possessions and faded photographs upon a narrow dresser. Nowadays, alongside the charred-edged photo of a young Estela on the beach with her mother and uncle, was another of Estela-- now older, far more battle-scarred and world-weary-- on the very same beach, her arms around a smiling Taylor. Sat on that worn single bed, Estela could enjoy the comfort of familiarity as she carried on her journey toward a great unknown… and with her wife beside her, she found the courage to face the shadows that crept in along with those memories.

“Gordita, I made you up some of your horrible patacones,” Nicolas announced, pushing open the bedroom door with a shoulder as he presented a large plate. Since the pregnancy had been announced, Estela had been his gorda, with no care paid to how small her bump might actually be. At six months along, though, the belly was living up to that new nickname. “I despair. You get rid of one dictator, and suddenly we have jumped-up young people thinking they can eat peanut butter and jelly with their patacones. Is this the terrible price of freedom? Have I made a grave error?”

Estela snorted with laughter, taking the plate as her uncle kissed her forehead. “And yet you made these up for me; I must be very loved.”

“Always, mija. But you should notice there are some with mango salsa for your poor wife. I won’t have her suffer for your insanity.”

Taylor smiled, gratefully taking a patacone.Nicolas has been doting on the both of them relentlessly since the news had been broken-- Taylor didn’t think she’d ever seen him quite so happy. When the time finally came for them to leave for La Huerta, it would be a great wrench. “Cheers! You’re the best.”

“I’ll have that in writing, Taylita.” Nicolas’ eyes twinkled as he looked over his nieces. The time was fast approaching that they would be on their way again, ready to start the greatest of adventures. He would miss them so. La Huerta had never been a draw to him-- he’d not visited once-- but there was no doubt in his mind that even his stubbornness would have to concede once Estela had that baby in her arms. There was not a force on heaven or earth that could keep him away. “Okay, gorda. I will leave you to it. I’m sure you’ll let me know if you have any other culinary abominations you want me to whip up.”

“Thanks, Tio.”

Alone together in their small sanctuary, Estela and Taylor cuddled close. Taylor braved a nibble of one of Estela’s controversial patacones and admitted that Nicolas had a point. Those things just weren’t right.

“I’m with Tio,” she said. “Our little nene has played havoc on your taste buds.”

Estela chuckled, more forced than she’d have liked. There was something else on her mind. And it hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“Hey. Are you okay? You had something you wanted to show me?”

For a moment, Estela considered changing her mind. It had been over a decade that she’d avoided this, what was to say that now was suddenly the right time? The bump of a little foot up against her ribs gave her clarity. She wanted to show this to her baby someday; that meant she had to brave it. She pulled up her laptop and placed it on the bedside table, then rummaged in a drawer, taking out a disc.

“It’s… it’s our old home videos.” She took a deep breath. “Tio put it on a DVD ages back to make sure we didn’t lose it, and he had an extra copy made for me. You know, just in case I ever….” Her cheeks became pink. “I… I haven’t watched this for a long time.” How long, she didn’t say, but she didn’t doubt that Taylor would know, understand.

Taylor squeezed her wife, her own pulse quickening. She knew this was huge. “I would love to watch with you. So much. But only if you’re really ready.”

“I think sometimes, the closest thing you’re ever going to get to being ready is wanting to be.” Estela offered a wobbly smile as she picked up on Taylor’s concern. “Mi amor, I’m okay. I’m doing this with you.”

She leaned into Taylor as the DVD began to play. Then came a voice that made her heartbeat quicken.

“Hola Nicolas!” Olivia said, waving with one hand, while she supported the small infant Estela with the other. “Here she is! This is your niece. This is Estela.”

Taylor felt Estela’s hand clench around the bottom of her shirt, clinging on for comfort. She placed her own hand on top and gently squeezed. I’m here.

They watched as Olivia placed the infant in a bassinet, then picked up the camera to give a tour of her home.

“So, this is the first place I lived; my mom’s apartment in Colombia,” Estela explained, her voice shaking at first, then steadying. This… didn’t hurt as much as she’d anticipated. If anything, it was a comfort. The last pieces of film she’d seen of her mother had been that horrifying footage in the Elysian, and the VR warning message from Olivia’s office in the MASADA complex. This was Estela’s mother as she knew her, the person she’d been missing so painfully. There was the inevitable pang of longing as she looked at that face, but the wash of memories made her seem closer than she’d been for so many years. “It was a few months before she had everything sorted so we could move to Tio Nicolas’ place, so Mom made a videotape to send him. A friend at the lab she worked at gave her the camera; it was so Tio could see the new baby, but we used it a long time after that.”

With the apartment tour complete, the camera was placed down on some unseen table or stand, and Olivia came back into the frame, picking up baby Estela and cradling her in her arms.

“If you’re lucky, you might get a smile out of her,” Olivia said, grinning as she gently tickled Estela under her chin. “The twentieth of July was her first real smile. You’re going to laugh at me, but I cried. Maybe you’ll get it when you meet her. She’s just so, so beautiful. I swear I’m addicted to this girl.”

Taylor snuggled under Estela’s arm, and watched, entranced, as the baby on the screen grew and changed under the loving care of her mother, and then uncle as well.

“Wow, Tio Nicolas looks different!” she commented, to Estela’s chuckle. Time, unimaginable stress, and facial hair could do that to a person. It was impossible not to smile as she watched the young Nicolas bouncing his little niece on his foot. That he’d be utterly, totally smitten with Estela’s own child had to be the surest thing in the world. Taylor saw on that screen an image of a dream come true, a future that now lay before her and Estela. God, could I be any more clucky right now?

“That’s going to be us, Taylor. Our own little family.”

Instinctively, Taylor put her hand to Estela’s bump, stroking it. Her family with her soulmate; it wasn’t what she’d been made for, but she was certain it was what she was meant for.

“I’m going to be someone’s mom. When I think about it, it’s just… incredible.” She cuddled in close, and gently kissed Estela’s cheek and forehead. “It means so much that you shared this with me.” She gestured to the screen. That had taken a whole lot of bravery. “Watching this… I see so much of you when I see your mom.”

“She would have been an amazing abuelita,” Estela said softly. Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply. Her mother’s sacrifice had brought her to Taylor. This new family would carry a great deal of Olivia Montoya’s influence, though she’d never know. “Thank you. I know it’s silly for me to say this, but I really appreciate you saying that. I’m gonna do her proud.”

The child on the screen was older now, toddling around the so-familiar house on stumpy legs. She held in her arms a soft doll.

“Oh-- that’s Babydoll. I was… creative at naming things when I was two. Mami gave him to me on my birthday, and I just took him everywhere. It always made sense to me; there was no way in hell Mami would ever leave me it home, so how could I ever leave my baby?”

“So, when you say you always wanted to be a mom?”

“Yeah, it goes back a long way.” Estela stroked her belly, meeting Taylor’s hand there. “I’m glad I had no idea just how rough the path would be… how that dream just burned and died. But we’re going to get there.”

She could see it. A lot of what had made her childhood had been lost in a wash of pain and trauma, but it couldn’t be taken away completely. Those memories, there before her, they were still a part of her. Those warm family moments were hers to pass on to her own child.

“Actually, I think Mom kept Babydoll. Maybe as a souvenir of my brief period of childhood innocence. I should dig him out--” She faltered, and her cheeks flushed. This shouldn’t still be a problem….

Catching on in an instant, Taylor squeezed Estela’s knee, and met her eye with a warm and loving gaze. “We have time. And if we need to enlist Tio Nicolas to do most of the necessary rummaging, that’s fine too. It would be really nice for nene to have something of yours.” Memories were powerful. They made up so much of who each person was. Lacking her own childhood, Taylor had found herself gain a great deal from Estela’s, something that had always been generously shared with no hesitation, in spite of the pain that came with those memories. That family history was important, and it bonded them together.

With a small, appreciative smile, Estela nodded. “Yes… we have time.”

  La Huerta, May 2023

 “Right; tell me. Which end am I kissing?” Taylor scooched forward in the sand, reveling in the gentle heat of the lowering sun upon her back and shoulders.

“That’ll be nene’s back.” Estela gestured to her lower belly, then the top. “Head. Butt. Right where they should be.”

Taylor smiled warmly, and went back to lay another kiss against her wife’s swollen abdomen. “Bub’s got it all worked out. Ready to high-tail it outta there and start lapping up the cuddles.”

“It’s come around fast,” Estela stated. It had. Almost too fast. Pregnancy had been an adjustment for sure, but she’d become comfortable with sharing her body with the small passenger. She could take care of herself, and that meant that baby’s needs were met too. What came next was a great unknown. Estela knew better than most how good intentions of keeping a beloved child out of harm’s way could go up in flames. What her life had been… grateful though she was for the person it had made her, she didn’t want a life like that for her baby. She could tell herself that it would be different, that the fight was over, but she’d seen too much to not be protective. The person she might have gone to for reassurance, the person who’d truly have understood, was long lost to her. Rarely had Estela missed her own mother more than in these days leading up to the big event. It made her all the more grateful for Taylor; already completely besotted with the tiny person they were waiting to meet. In Taylor, her loving hero, she had all the faith in the world.

“Yeah...” Taylor put on a forlorn gaze as she looked up into Estela’s shining eyes. “Just a few more days, and I won’t be able to outrun you anymore. I’m pretty devastated.”

“You’re a beautiful dork, Taylor. But don’t worry. You’ll be able to keep ahead of nene for a few years, if you’re lucky.”

Taylor snuggled into Estela’s lap, and together, they watched the sun journey towards the horizon. The rising tide licked at their bodies. All was peaceful, tranquil; the only sounds were the rolling of the waves, the calls of tropical birds, and the distant laughter of children in Elyys’tel, voices carried upon the wind. Taylor quietly studied Estela from head to toes, taking in everything. The pregnancy had added further lines to Estela’s scar-painted body; marks of something happy at last. Her carriage gave off a quiet confidence; the baby was safe in its strong, resilient vessel. And in Estela’s face, once the vision of heavy burdens, so great that it might might have been those of the whole world… quiet, happy serenity. Taylor felt a wave of affection wash over her. It happened to her a lot. Goodness knew how she’d ever get anything done when she had Estela and the baby to love on all day.

“Estela?”

“Mi amor?”

“You know, I think a part of me is going to miss this. Being able to put my arms around you and hold the two people I love most in the world at the same time.”

Estela’s lips quirked into a smile. “You’ll still be able to do that. Soon enough, baby will be hugging you back.”

“It’s… got to be normal to be a little scared, right? I’ve got nothing, nothing at all to look back and remember as a reference for how the hell to raise a kid. What if I--”

“Taylor.” Estela took Taylor’s face in her hands; gentle but firm. God, Taylor… no one could ask for more than to be loved by you. “I’m scared too. But I’d be a hundred times more scared if I wasn’t doing this with you. It’s a whole actual person depending on us. A whole person we could screw up in a million different ways. But we won’t. Taylor, look at me. You won’t. Just… be scared with me. And all of us… we’ll be okay.”

Taylor pulled herself up and put both arms around Estela. Holding the two people she loved most at the same time. To be scared with Estela was almost to not be afraid at all. “You’re right. Wise Mama Estela.”

“Because of you. Don’t forget that.” And Estela kissed the tip of her beloved’s nose, growing cold with the retreat of the sun. She gave a little wink. “Mama Taylor.”

Her eyes glazing dreamily as she stared out to the sunset over the sparkling sea, Taylor felt a little kick against the arm that she had around Estela’s middle. She didn’t even need to look to know that there would be the most beautiful of smiles across her wife’s face. Pure elation. Mama Taylor? She could get used to that.

[popculturebuffet]

Ducktales 87 Review: A Whale of A Bad Time (Catch as Cash Can Part 2)

A SEA MONSTER ATE MY ICE CREAM! Yup come with me under the cut as I cover one of the most infamous moments of all Ducktales.. and the absolutely bonkers episode attached involving robot ice cream trucks, giant robotic whales, Optimus Prime as a navy admiral, and semen.. er seaman Donald Duck!  All of this and more commissioned by @weirdkev27​ is waiting under the ocean and under the cut! Come aboard!

So yeah....

And not the adventure time or regular show or what have you kind of intetionally weird I mean all the elements just sort of conjeal into a mess of poor decisions in and out of universes, robotic whales and the most insane scheme to get a noble peace prize of all time. If that and the intro didn’t hook you I don’t know what will, let’s do this. 

PREVIOUSLY ON DUCKTALES:

Okay maybe not THAT previously... guess I gotta do this myself. *Grumble grumble* : Last time we met a steoyptical-ish foreign leader give Scrooge and Glomgold a deadline to literally weigh their fortunes in his country at ten days, with Glomgold’s sending the Beagle Boys after Scrooge in an attempt to cheat.. and springing from jail in a giant blimp shaped like a cow because your guess is as good as mine. Scrooge naturally won and here we are. As said last time, these episodes were still basically written as done in ones, able to be digested on their own, just with the overall framework of the four parter, in this case Scrooge and Glomgold’s contest, tieing it together. So with that out of the way. 

We open as Duckburg is hit with a heatwave. 

No that’s Heat Wave.. and besides he works out of central city, not Duckberg silly.. wherever those images come from.. me I guess? I dunno. Point is the boys are sweaty and uncomfortable, just like me 90 percent of the time, and decide to cool off by visiting Scrooge’s new ice cream factory for free samples. We’re only about a minute, and a recap about the contest on the news, in and already the characters this episode are acting kind of dumb.. get used to it. One of Scrooge’s primary, most consistent, most iron clad character traits is he does NOT give away something for nothing. Even for Charity he’ll often try and pench pennies and how much he donates, and in older harsher comics like Carl Barks famous “A Christmas For Shacktown” good luck getting him to donate any money to anyone else AT ALL. If he DOES give someone a gift, it’s usually with an alterior motive or some sort of scheme brewing, with Donald or the Nephews or all four rightly questioning him. The idea any factory of any product of his would give out samples unless he got something out of doint so or that they wouldn’t be tiny or use flavors that don’t sell or some cost cutting measure like that is nuts and while it’s not out of the boys characters to be stupid it is a bit for them to just blindly think he’d be okay with this.  Their soon distracted by other matters once they arrive though as the Guard won’t let them in despite being Huey, Dewey and Louie as much like bill and ted their a package deal, and yes they do a team pose and yes.. it’s actually pretty adorable. Again nepotism has never been a trait of scrooges either boys, why would he start now? They try flagging down one of his ice cream  trucks but they totally ignore him. and seem to be driving automatically... they also look human which... yeah. Just.. yeah. The boys are naturally suspicious and plan to ask scrooge at Dinner. This fails because Scrooge isn’t coming and Beakly refuses to let them disturb him on his orders.. and refused to let Webby eat till everyone’s at the table. I’ll come back to Beakly in a second, and there will be blood dumpster. 

The boys sleep that night, but are woken up by the ice cream trucks and wondering why the hell their running at night... which yeah is weird and was a bad part of the plan. We’ll get to why that plan’s a bit totally fucked in a second though as the boys assume someone is doing something shady with scrooge’s company and pull a Marty McFly, attaching their skateboards to a bumper and then hopping onto one of the trucks. And given that Magica, the Beagle Boys and Flintheart have all gone up at scrooge several times at this point judging by the episode guides, not to mention all the one off thieves, scumbags, con artists and warlords they’ve fought, you honestly can’t blame them for being super suspicious. 

Their suspcions of this being some kind of elaborate theft are semeingly confirmed when instead of , and this is really the flavor they use “Bubble Gum Pistachio Fudge” they find Scrooge’s money. And let’s just take a sec to .. unpack that flavor as none of those go together. I mean in a three scoop cone or bowl maybe, but in the same ice cream your just throwing shit together at that point. And the flavor isn’t outlandish enough to really be a good joke.

 I’ts just three flavors jammed together that don’t belong. It’s not like the, ironically in the same year, 87 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle’s love for weird pizza toppings. That.. actually comes off as a joke. It didn’t always land in the episodes i’d seen but I get what their going for. Thanks to this infographic I know they put ALL of this on pizza at some point, omitting actual pizza toppings for obvious reasons: Granola, Licorice, Fudge, Marshmallows, Clams, Peanut Butter, Avacado (Which didn’t sound bad in theory but once I thought about it I winced), Pickles, Asparagus, Butterscotch, Onions (Yes I know this is an actual regular pizza topping but no just.. no.. everyone hones in on anchovies, which i’ve never had but no.. onions are the real scourge of the pizza world), Toast, Tea (okay that one actually shocked me), Clam Sauce, Chocolate Sprinkles, Jelly Beans, Yogurt, Coconut, Strawberries, Oatmeal, Grape Jelly, Gucamole, Tuna, Popcorn, Sardines, Whipped Cream, Bannans and Goulash. The point i’m making is it’s not hard to come up with even a weak wacky flavor of something and it was  a weird line to just utterly botch but they somehow did it. Also that the Teenage Mutant Turtles have serious issues to address. I mean onions, really? onions? Guys you can do better... onions are a next mutation topping!

One Tangent Later, the boys and the trucks arrive at the docks where they see the money filled ice cream trucks loading onto a boat and a shadowy mystery man. Who could it be? My money is on

But my money is always on Crab People. It’s likely why i’m poor. But the boys chuck a bag of cash at him, then Louie... prepares to break his legs with a crowbar?

Seriously the truck was automated and they came straight form home. he had to have brought that with him. Whelp at least Louie has a unique character trait: He likes to make people bleed. I don’t know if that’s necessarily a GOOD thing for a 8-10 year old to want to do but it’s better than nothing. Before Louie can get up to a bit of the ultra violence, Huey finds out it’s Scrooge who explains himself: Naturally the sudden new Ice Cream Factory he built in days right next to the bin is a front, and the trucks are his own, a stealthy way to outfox glomgold. While the news said he was transporting the loot by air, he’s doing it by sea stealthily to prevent glomgold from attacking it. Which given he hasn’t a giant cow Zepplin, fair enough. 

The rest of this though is ludicrously overcomplicated: First off it’s not REMOTELY stealthy to build a giant fake factory next to your bin, days before you transport your cash, something so obvious i’m suprised Glomgold dind’t just come to the factory himself and set some explosives. Second while Robot Drivers isn’t a bad idea, Glomgold has many spies with many eyes, it’s a BIG gamble to both have active trucks around, especially at night carrying large sums of cash. I mean what if the police stopped them? Sure Scrooge could get his money back legally, but Flintheart might get to it first or bribe some cops first. Or some dirty cops might take it for themselves. It’s also WEIRDLY costly for someone as spiendthrift as Scrooge, I mean while he owns the land for the factory he had to buy a ton of trucks, pay for gyro’s, i’m assuming Gyro’s at least, material to make the robots, and pay for the guard to keep people out as well as presumibly either well paid workers or more robots inside to get the money into the trucks. It’s just hilariously overcomplicated and while not an intentional joke clearly got a laugh out of me as it just makes no logical sense for scrooge’s character and he’s done similar ideas for far less money in the comics. It’s a carl barks style “hide the money bin’s cash” plot, funnled through bloodshot eyes of someone having done a small mountain of cocaine to get this script done on time and I love it for that. The boys applaud their uncle for his wacky scheme while a mysteroius periscope watches them from a distance. 

The Next Morning Beakly is still awful as despite everyone being there, she now refuses to let Webby eat till everyone’s settled. And NOW we can talk about 87 Beakly. I don’t like her. She’s had one or two moments in the episodes I watched, but outside of that she’s a bland character who mostly fusses over the boys and webby, worries things are too dangerous, or is there for a weak joke. She’s just not all that intresting, and while i’ll grant the 87 Ducktales cast isn’t the deepest set of characters and the boys can be annoying depending on the episode.. their at least INTRESTING. The boys are clever, rambunctions and curious, Webby has all of that and an underlying swetness that while cloying at times is mostly just really endearing, Launchpad is a klutz and a crash magnet but means well and keeps trying and genuinely is a good scoutleader and person, and Scrooge despite his rough edges is a hardscrabbled adventuerer. The rest of the main cast here at least has a drive and character to them that makes the stories work when their at their best. Beakly is just kinda.. there. Why I also go into this is because 87 Webby gets a lot of shit.. and she really dosen’t deserve it. Yes she’s clearly a studio executives idea of what a little girl should like and that’s bad. And yes she got kidnapped a bunch.. but so did everyone else. But she makes up for that by being the heart of the team, offering love and empathy to all of them, easily bonding with varous animals and people they meet, and genuinely offering a naive but optimistic worldview that nicely contrasts with scrooge and the boys understandable cyncism. And she CAN handle herself more often than not. Wheras frank and co basically took almost everything about beakly and started over with Webby they simply tweaked her for the times: Made her about the same age if not older than the triplets so their equals, took away the triplet’s outdated and utterly loathsome sexisim, and added badassery and intellegence to her already admirable emotional skills and naive optimism, along with some boundless energy on top.They took a decent character and made her an amazing one.  With Beakly.. they took a dodering, easily frightned old lady whose overly proper and stuffy and turned her into a taciturn, snarky, badass former secret agent whose the sanest person in the mansion and when she IS wrong, will not only admit it but usually had some good reason for it. She also goes from being mostly deferent to scrooge to one of his few equals, to the point that the “87 Cent Solution!” lampshades the fact that if they’d called her the episode would’ve been over, as she’s , outside of a few exceptions the one person he listens to. She’s a throughly likeable, throughly complex character and one i’m glad their doing more with this season while I really hope I don’t see the original her more than I have to.  Okay with that rant done for this and any future retro ducktales reviews, we can get to the reason your all here and Kev comissioned me to do all 4 of these episodes: You’ve seen it on youtube, you’ve seen it in “Let’s get Dangerous”, you’ve seen it in dreams, ladies, gentleman and others, A. SEA. MONSTER. ATE. MY. ICE. CREAM. 

As the family sits for pancakes, Wippleman, Scrooge’s accountant and what I can only assume is this universe’s version of WWE manager Harvey Wippleman, comes in and has some bad news for Scrooge: A Sea Monster of some kind sunk one of his ships.. but the good news it was only Ice Cream. Knowing what it really was Scrooge goes absolute APE shit and procedes to hop around the table going absolutely insane, destroying everyone’s breakfast, with poor webby bemoaning she’ll never get to eat, Beakly remarking “it must’ve been some ice cream’ which isnt’ a bad line, Huey explaning what’s up with the weirdly delivered “It was half his fort-une!” and the boys finally restraining Scrooge with an impromptu tablecloth straightjacket, which calms him down and he hops off to get his money back. Wether you’ve seen the scene for yourself and ESPECIALLY if somehow you haven’t, it’s right here if you want to take another look. 

This scene is not only the most remembered part of the special, and easily the most beloved, it’s one of the best scenes in all of Ducktales 87 and easily one of the funniest across duck canon. Everything just clicks: The concept, the animation showing off just how manic scrooge is, how he never does the same move twice, how rather than looping it Alan Young very clearly said the word a bunch of times each time with a different more manic and uniquely hilarious delivery, Beakly’s deadpan reaction, and the boys vain attempts to restrain him before finally succeeding. Everything about this works and in an otherwise just really off center episode, this sparkling gem of a scene stands out. I waited till now to talk about Alan Young’s scrooge and honestly the man defined the roll for a reason: he can do a dramatic or emotional delivery just as effortlessly as a comic bit like this, and plays the character with the sternness and stubbornness expected. He got the character perfectly and it’s unsurprising Frank and Matt wanted him to reprise the roll and he only didn’t because he sadly passed on, though I will say David Tenant is a perfect replacement. Though even HE couldn’t do the Sea Monster Ate My Ice Cream bit as well as Alan, as his felt a bit more stilted and was clearly looped, but really I don’t think anyone could top him at this. It’s his shining moment as the character and he earned it square. 

So getting back to the ten car pileup that is the rest of this episode, the boys and Scrooge head under the sea, doot doot doot, to find his ship. But while under water they instead find the navy who’ve quarantined the ship.. yet aren’t wearing face masks inside their little suits. How odd. Guess the giant glass dome and giant ocean of water between them and the ship helps but still, you can’t be too careful.  Point is both sides are being kind of douchey: The Naval Guards, rather than direct Scrooge to their superior to PROVE it’s his vessel and ask questions to him directly since their aircraft carrier soon turns out not to be far from here just tell him he can’t pass and Scrooge is as bill gerent as you’d expect. I’m not saying people aren’t this dumb in real life, just google any video of a karen of any gender throwing a giant tantrum in a store over masks, i’m just saying i’td be nice to move the plot along without unnecessary cul de sacs.  The boys however naturally have a way around this and sneak in with scrooge on the underside of a sea turtle. It’s a genuinely clever tactic. They find the ship with a large bite out of it.. and the Navy then swoop in to take them in. 

On the ship Scrooge continues to not help his case and pulls a classic old white guy and demands to see their superior. Or white person in particular really. Point is he throws a strop on their way to what could easily be a trip to the brig with his behavior and possible criminal charges, while the boys muse that this is Donald’s ship. For the uninitiated, the in-series reason Donald left the boys for this series was he was called back to the Navy, and thus left the boys with Scrooge. Out of series it was an executive mandate: As Tad Stones, future creator of Darkwing Duck and story editor for Ducktales 87, explained, and I found out about this via looper, Disney was nervous about having one of their biggest characters overexposed by having him as part of 65 episode tv show. This was combined with the fact they were worried Donald’s voice would make stories confusing.  I also believe, if with no proof there was at third reason: Tony Anselmo had just started as Donald Duck, taking over from the late great Clarence Nash at Nash’s request after Nash died in 85, and they likely feared putting Tony through such a ringer this soon might sour audiences on him before audiences had gotten used to the new voice actor. So with all this Donald was kept to the occasional guest roll, though I will say while there have been complaints about Donald’s voice on this show I have no issue with it. It’s not as good as the reboot.. but the reboot also comes after Tony’s been playing the roll for over 30 years and is just as iconic as his predecessor in the roll at this point versus two years after his mentor died and he picked up his sword.. or squawky duck voice in this case. 

Scrooge is escorted to Admiral Grimitz, the head of this aircraft carrier whose showed up in other Donald episodes, specifically his segment of the Treasure of the Golden Suns series opener. He’s the gruff but mostly fair head of the ship and is voiced by, of all the va’s possible, Peter “Optimus Prime” Cullen, using a voice that is DIFFRENT but not by much. It’s hard not to be distracted by it. The Admiral waves scrooge off from his entirely justified fear the Army stole his money, but refuses to give any details since i’ts classified. Scrooge angrily.. decides to do the next shipment anyway and tells them to stay out of it instead of calling the president like he threatened to get some answers. Or threaten to pull funding for his military contracts. I know Scrooge never would, but they don’t know that. It’s just.. odd to see scrooge give up and it would’ve made more sense if the Admiral threatened legal action first or something that would get him to back off.  The Admiral then brings in Donald, and gives him the truth: Their own scientist, Dr. Bluebottle, stole an experimental sub shaped like a whale and stole the money for reasons they don’t know. So since he can go undercover easily, he sends Donald to go with scrooge and slaps a transmitter on him so they can track him. Donald also does some slapstick. That’s my boy. And yes it was a very nice surprise to see him again since i’d forgot he was in this episode. Especially since aside from “The Trickining!” he hasn’t been in any episodes since Ducktales came back. Justifably though as none of those NEEDED him and the show’s massively improved from it’s “donald might as not well exist” days of season 1, I just miss him is all and it’s nice to see some form of him again.  And this is where the episode kinda lost me, as this scheme, while not really out of the bounds of the reality, just.. feels like it overcomplicates the plot for the sake of padding. I mean I buy the Government going iwth a far more complex plan to cover their own asses.. but it would’ve made more sense from a plot standpoint to have it go this way: The Admiral is honest with Scrooge, tells him about bluebottle.. and threatens him into helping them by pointing out he broke into a federal quarantine and defined naval orders and could be brought up on charges, and if he tired telling anyone about Bluebottle could likewise be tried for leaking federal secrets. That way instead of using an unknowing scrooge as bait he goes into the situation KNOWING he’s probably going to get captured and while grumbly about it uses it to his advantage. Donald could still plausibly be sent along as naval lisaon/as a seemingly nice act/to have the bug to track the sub. Instead it just feels like they added an extra uncessary step to things to pad the episode more. I mean if you needed to do that just add more of the sea monster or give launchpad a cameo. He’s been missing for days at this point. 

So Scrooge and family, which naturally includes Webby and Beakly even if I don’t like classic bleakly she’s still family, head out with the second half of his fortune which makes next to no sense when he has days left in the concept and you know, half is missing, but whatever. Naturally the obvious happens and we meet the famous Sea Monster.. which actually looks neat.. it’s drawn like your standard cartoony killer whale but has bits of indents much like a sub would to show it’s not entirely a beast. It’s a nice bit of design work. The whale eats the cash and Donald and Scrooge but the navy pick up the boys, webby and beakly.  Donald let’s things slip on the sub, while back at the carrier the good Admiral explains the rest and my other issues with the plot aside this scene is a good bit of exploition as it explains some obvious questions away cleverly, something this plot could’ve used more of frankly but it’s refreshing to get at least a little: The reason they don’t just attack the sub en masse, besides it being you know incredibly valuable is that it’s made to be torpedo resistant, it’s sonar resitant so they can’t track it easily, and it’s faster than any ship. After all it was made to be a super weapon, so naturally the carriers standard barrage of navy vehicles can’t match it. However again to the episodes credit the tracker is actually vitally important, as it allows them to see the ship and where it is, so they can attack.. though right now their holding off on it since a crewman and a civilian are on board but if it comes down to it they’ll have no choice. I also gotta admit..t his concept is pretty cool. Kind of ridiculous? Sure but a super sub shaped like a whale that can still bite like one and outrun and outlast any other sea vehicle? It’s undoubtly awesome and a point in this episodes favor.  But now we get to most gloriously insane and convoluted part of the episode.. yes NOW we do. Donald and Scrooge naturally sneak around the ship, and find Dr. Bluebottle at his controls, talking to Flintheart on a video monitor. Turns out, to no one’s surprised, Flintheart subcontracted out his plans to Bluebottle and in exchange for keeping the money under the ocean till the contest, Glomgold is going to make sure he gets the Nobel Prize, and covers on all the magazines.  Okay at first I genuinely thought this plan made no sense.. until I realized it does, but ONLY for Glomgold. Bluebottle comes off as the smartest moron that’s ever lived for agreeing to any of this. But I have to give Glommy this the plan works out great for him: He convinces an already Rogue scientist to steal scrooge’s money, which prevents Scrooge from finding out what’s going on as he, correctly, guessed the government would cover this up because of course they did. He then correctly figured either the government would work with scrooge to trap bluebottle or they’d just use scrooge as bait anyway without a formal agreement, thus netting him scrooge’s entire fortune. He knows bluebottle won’t take it up because he gave bluebottle a bribe specifically for him and the only thing he wants, and even if he does take the money, Glomgold has more and Bluebottle could still remotely blow up the sub or something. And if he can’t the Navy would have to hold the sub, and money included , as evidence for the trial. And even if Bluebottle DOES rat him out, Glomgold could easily bury the evidence. The only way glomgold gets caught is if Bluebottle recorded their video chats or if scrooge saw them talking.. which he did, but given the two are direct competitors his testimony is dubious at best as is donald’s. So basically Flintheart almost certainly wins no matter what, and Bluebottle takes the fall no matter what. It does make Bluebottle comeff as a massive moron for not thinking of this, but props to glomgold.  Also yeah.. it’s clear to me at this point that if he hasn’t said it somewhere Frank clearly did the same thing he did with Gyro here with Flintheart: Take one accidental trait from the original (Glomgold’s penchant for overly complicated schemes and Gyro’s tendency to make robots that go rogue.) and make it a part of their personality instead of just a coincidence and turn it up to 11 for hilarity.. which worked in both cases. I genuinely thought this Flintheart was saner but no he’s just less interesting.  So Bluebottle gets an intruder alert.. and turns around to find Scrooge and Donald. Who rather than just whap the guy on the head while his back is turned, just stood there to confront him directly. 

Look this review is running long and is behind, I don’t have more time to marvel over how plot conveniently stupid they are being right now. A fight ensues with blue bottles inventions till Donald threatens to pull a big lever. I’ts thankfully not the self destruct lever like Donald thinks or Bluebottle’s equivlent of the blow up the engine button because he’s clearly just that smart, but a lever to dump all the gold.. which isn’t a terrible idea for once as if the ship gets stalled it can float up, as we’ll naturally see as there was no way they weren’t going to pull this chekov’s lever at some point. Scrooge stops him, Bluebottle uses gadgets to tie both up and finds out about the bug , as that’s why the miltary have been able to attack him which happened but I didn’t get to becuse of all the stupid. Bluebottle snuffs it out and then fully assaults the aircraft carrier, and things look grim. But Scrooge and Donald aren’t put down that easily and escape and scrooge pulls a donald and just starts breaking shit and breaks the sub.  Now with the sub plumiting, and Bluebottle bragging that only he can fix it as the sub will just keep sinking into the ocean’s depths.. and that only it’s design has kept compression from crushing them to death. But Scrooge has another solution and a suprisingly, and badassingly self sacrifical one: He dumps the money into the marinara trench, nice pun, and thus the whale floats up, Bluebottle is arrested, and Glomgold... still wins for now as Scrooge still has to get his fortune out, but Scrooge figures Gyro can help with that. We get an everybody laughs ending and we’re out. 

Final Thoughts: This one is a mess. While it has a great moment here or there, Donald and Tony as him are fantastic as they are now, and of course A Sea Monster Ate My Ice Cream! is an utterly classic scene and an utter joy to watch. The attached episode is just a mess structurally, if still a fun watch. Yes despite my bitching about it the sheer slapped together nature of it means it’s fun to pick apart and make fun of, so it’s not unwatchable. I’ve seen worse episodes of this very show, and worse episodes of tv. But as an old friend would say.

Not a terrible sit, but it easily could’ve been better. I’m also getting tired of scrooge being enitrely usless and just throwing up his hands at times. Stop that he’s better than that. With this one THANKFULLY AND FINALLY out of the way, next up is Aqua Ducks....... 

Oh god. Well if you want to see the next one follow me. If there’s an episode of any animated show you’d like to see me cover classic ducktales, modern ducktales, disney in general, etc, etc, just send me a PM and you can comission a review. 5 bucks for one episode, 15 for a movie and 5 bucks off one episode when you order three or more like say a multiparter like this. Until then say safe, check your house for Busey’s and hopefully we’ll meet again. 

[woos-sweaterpaws]

i want to get to know you so do 1-50 (except 29) 🌻

This is really really sweet of you anon thank u!!

__________________________________________

1. how many pillows do you sleep with?

I have 6 in my bed rn

and over 20 plushies

its never enough

2. do you believe in soulmates?

yes i do

3. would you ever kiss a stranger?

yes but not if its like total-never-spoke-to-them stranger

4. describe your dream house

i would prefer not a house but a nice penthouse-loft-apartment in a big city with a nice view and big windows

interior would be minimalistic style with light wood and a big double sized bed for me (since i dont think i will have a partner lol)

i would love an apartment with multiple floors or like a half-floor for the bedroom

5. do you usually use cash or card?

card

6. do you enjoy driving in general?

i hate it with a burning passion

7. do you like your name? if not, what would you change your name to?

i dont HATE my name

there are better/prettier ones but i think mine fits me

i would still like a more international name (since mine is kinda weird in the english speaking world) but  i dont have smth specific in mind

8. what’s your favorite cuisine?

italian ~

9. how often do you get massages?

i dont o.o i got some a few years ago because my back is fucked but otherwise never

10. do you play video games? if so, what games?

generally chill games like animal crossing, stardew valley and such, the big nintendo titles like mario kart and zelda, binding of isaac

11. do you prefer to color with colored pencils, crayons, or markers?

colored pencils!

12. what other fandoms are you in?

oh boy

okay so apart from all of kpop and thai dramas im in

skam

aftg

hp

trc

the mentioned video games if you wanna count that as fandoms

im probably forgetting a ton rn

13. do you have a signature in your style/everyday outfits?

if its comfy i like it

usually involves hoodies or boys shirts

i prefer if i dont have to worry about showing skin somewhere i dont want to

14. do you have any pets? if not, do you want some in the future?

no i dont have any atm but i had bunnies, birds and a guniea pig before. and yes i want cats when i move out

15. do you give objects you own a name? (car, house, plants, etc)

i named my cactus but it died (plants hate me) i also name all my plushies and random animals on the street

16. do you like the weather where you live?

its okay yea. summers are not too hot but i wish the winters were cold enough for snow :(

17. if you could wear one color for the rest of your life, what would it be?

black! its generally my comfort color in clothes

18. do you like making small talk?

WHO tf likes smalltalk? no!

19. what’s your favorite social media platform?

tumblr 100%

20. have you ever been to hawaii?

no :(

21. name a fashion trend that you absolutely hate

no offence but crop tops

i dont hate them they look good on you guys

but i hate that i cant find hoodies and shirts in womans sections anymore that arent cropped (ive been searching the past 6 months and everytime i like smth its cropped - i especially hated that when looking for oversized hoodies)

i dont wear them myself because cold so it sucks not finding cute clothes

i also fundamentally disagree with mustard-yellow

22. name a fashion trend that you absolutely love

oversized hoodies with ripped jeans and boots was my winter favourite

23. what was the last text you sent?

“okay” in out family groupchat lol

24. when making plans, do you like to organize or go with the flow when the time comes?

i like it to be organized but not be the one who actually organizes it if that makes sense?

25. what do you want to name your future kids?

i dont want kids but i wanna name my cats mochi and (c)leo (depending on gender)

26. do you have a type?

with looks i generally prefer darker hair with pretty eyes but if im comfortable with u it doesnt matter

if u like cuddling, are patient and gentle and love to make jokes that arent funny i probably like u lots

27. when was the last time you kissed someone?

like...kissed kissed? in grade 7 so...2012? my first and last kiss lol

28. how often do you cook?

as often as necessary, as little as possible (i cant really cook except for pasta and stuff so im mostly living of instant meals and “cut up a lot of things and put it in a pan until its browned” kinda stuff)

30. do you always remember your dreams?

no i dont

i had a dream diary once but that was a disaster

31. do you believe in ghosts?

yea kinda

i believe in invisible spirits/souls living with us yea

32. would you ever want to move outside of your country?

sometimes? im too scared to actually do it but there are many nice cities i would love to live in

33. describe your first love

well idk about love...it was always more of an obsession kinda thing and it was never a two-way-thing so i never had a real first love...

34. more peanut butter or more jelly?

i hate peanuts so no pb and only jelly (or nutella if you love me)

35. do your irls know about your tumblr account?

they know i have a tumblr but only my best friend actually follows me (and a high school friend i lost contact to)

my other friends dont have tumblr so they dont care

36. do you prefer hot or cold beverages?

cold!

37. when was the last time you finished a book?

i reread the aftg series last december for the 4th time

38. what would you want your wedding colors to be?

green-white? like a soft bright pastel green? maybe add pastel pink too

39. how long do you let your nails grow?

if i can see them clearly from the inside of my hand i cut them

40. if you could stay at a certain age, what age would you pick?

probably 19 or 7 theres no in between

41. who do you think has it easiest: older siblings or younger siblings?

older siblings because they learn responsibility earlier

i dont have siblings tho so idk

42. how often do you post on social media?

on tumblr daily, on insta never, on twitter occasionally if fun stuff happens

43. do you enjoy big groups?

nope

44. do you like it when you’re awaken by the sounds of birds chirping?

its better than my alarm but waaay too early so nope

45. which hand is your favorite?

left?

46. how many people do you follow?

1152 (yes i might have a problem)

47. how many followers do you have?

359 on my main and 27 on my fandom side account

48. how many drafts do you have?

53 but i use it to save posts i find interesting or that contain links i might need later

49. do you hang or fold your sweaters?

hang because im lazy and it saves space on the clothes dryer rack

50. even numbers or odd?

odd!

[lovemesomesurveys]

800 questions part 5

201) How much spam email do you tend to get a week? I just receive emails from stuff I subscribed to receive emails from in my main inbox. A few years ago I unsubscribed from a lot of stuff to clean up my inbox and it’s really helped a lot. Yahoo, and probably most email services, filters emails and sends the spam/junk mail to a designated place, which I never check so who knows how much spam emails I actually get.

202) If you could learn any language fluently what would it be? I’d love to be fluent in Spanish.

203) What historical Figure would you love to see in 21st century life? I don’t know.

204) As a kid were you ever frightened of a monster under the bed or in the cupboard? Nah, I don’t remember that being a fear of mine. 205) Do you like clowns? I like Pennywise.

206) Do you prefer BBC or ITV? I don’t have those channels.

207) Have you ever been surfing? Nope.

208) Have you ever been snowboarding? Nope.

209) Who was better, the Beatles or Elvis Presley? Both were talented and had a large fanbase, but I personally like more Beatles songs. 

210) What’s your favourite type of foreign food? Italian and Mexican.

211) Which Foreign country do you dislike the most? I haven’t travelled to many foreign countries (I’ve only been to Mexico, and it was a brief trip), so I don’t know.

212) Do you like your music loud or easy listening? I don’t need it blasting and blaring, just loud enough to enjoy it.

213) What’s your favourite animated or cartoon program? Rugrats, Hey Arnold, and Doug.

214) Do you sing in the shower? Yeah. I have my shower playlist on Spotify that I sing along to.

215) Are you a clean or messy person? Clean. I mean, my room could use some straightening up at the moment, but it’s not messy. I just have too much stuff and not enough space, so I need to try and organize a bit better.

216) What’s your preferred playing piece in monopoly? The dog.

217) Can or Do you still play twister? No.

218) Can you play chess? I never got the hang of it. To be fair, I haven’t tried since I was a kid and the times I did I didn’t give it that much effort. I didn’t have a real interest in it.

219) Do you know the dance steps to an annoying cheesy pop song? Yeah.

220) Do you prefer straight or bendy straws? I like to use coffee stirrers, honestly. They work perfectly well as straws for me. I like that the hole is small.

221) Have you ever entered a talent contest? No. You have to have a talent.

222) and did you win? -

223) Do you like poetry? Sure.

224) Are you a bad loser? No. “I’m a loser, baby”, I accept and embrace it. ha. No, but seriously I’m not a sore loser. I like to have fun, friendly competition when playing boardgames and such. All in good fun.

225) Which would you choose? Jelly or Ice Cream? That’s an odd pairing to choose from. I like both, I would choose either one depending on the situation. Like, I’d go for some jelly with toast or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and I’d go maybe go for some ice cream for dessert. But if someone was like, “would you like some jelly or some ice cream?” I’d go with the ice cream. 226) What’s your favourite type of Pie? Cheesecake is the only pie I like.

227) What’s your most used phrase? I don’t know why I can never think of one when asked this question. I know I have words and phrases I say a lot. I guess one of them could be “I don’t know” cause I seem to not know a lot.

228) What’s your most used word? ^^^

229) Who would you want to play you in a movie of your life? lol I’ve said Kristin Stewart before because she’s known for being awkward and so am I. 230) What would your dream job be? I don’t know. :/

231) Which song do you hate the most? Hmm. Back when I used to listen to the radio I could answer this question, but now I don’t know. I only listen to stuff I like, so *shrug* I haven’t heard a song in awhile that I just really didn’t like. 

232) How long does it take you to get ready? Not long at all. I throw something on, brush my teeth, and throw up my hair in a bun.

233) What do you think the greatest invention has been? There’s been many.

234) What’s your favourite feature on the opposite sex? Eyes, smile, jawline.

235) What’s your least favourite feature on the opposite sex? I hate when men have long unkempt beards

236) Who's your favourite Comedian? I don’t have one.

237) What's your favourite board game? That’s a tough one. I just love board games, man.

238) Do you have any lucky items, objects or traditions? I don’t believe in luck.

239) Do you have any superstitions? I do the knock on wood thing sometimes, but that’s really just out of habit.

240) What’s your favourite Movie quote? There’s a lot of memorable lines.

241) Who would win in a fight? Chuck Norris or Jack Bauer? Apparently Chuck Norris wins everything, right? I never really knew who he was, but Chuck Norris jokes were a big thing when I was in middle school for some reason.

242) Do you have much of an ego? Not at all.

243) Do you wear sunglasses indoors to look cool or stylish? I don’t wear sunglasses indoors, at night, or ever.

244) Are you a hat person? I like to wear beanies and baseball caps sometimes.

245) What’s your favourite supermarket chain? We do our grocery shopping at Walmart. 

246) What’s your favourite fastfood chain? I don’t really have a favorite anymore.

247) What’s your first thought upon waking up? I’m a zombie when I get up. I need time to wake up enough to drag myself to the Keurig before I start doing much thinking.

248) What animal would you most like to have as a pet? I love having a dog.

249) What’s your favourite type of tree? I don’t have one.

250) If you could bankrupt one person or company who would it be? I don’t want to do that.

[loulougoingsolo]

There is no limit

Earlier this week, I stood in the preserves aisle of my local grocery store, contemplating whether I should buy a jar of peanut butter or not. I’ve never really gotten into the PB&J thing, but I had a phase a while ago, inspired by Link, when I tried it. I don’t think I like peanut butter with jelly, but with fresh banana and toast, it’s quite a treat - and I don’t even like bananas on their own. I decided not to buy another jar, and now I feel I should have, just so I could try to make ravioli with it. I haven’t had a chance to watch Mythical Kitchen make the pizza yet, but I think that might have some actual potential - maybe not as a main dish, but maybe a dessert.

But today’s GMM is all about peanutbutter and jelly, in everything but the sandwich. Not only have we loads of tasty new dishes to try, but the episode makes an excellent team building excercise, because instead of ranking the foods themselves, Rhett and Link have to figure out, which crew member doesn’t like which dish.

Tasting the limits sounds like a new series, and based on this first edition, I’m all for it. The tasters with average tastebuds today are Kevin, Bethany, Davin and David. Based on the initial expressions on their faces, Kevin is excited to be a part of this game, Bethany is not hungy, someone forgot to ask Davin if he wants to be in this, and David is thinking about the upcoming weekend.

I’m a lover of the aesthetics, and the first dish, PB&J ravioli, looks amazing. Especially in the previous decades, as a vegetarian, I’ve stumbled upon some pretty strange veggie main dishes, like pizza with canned peach, or a salad with so many berries and fruit that it was borderline fruit salad, so in my books, this sounds like a real dish. At least peanuts have some protein in them, so what is there  not to like?

Oh, Davin doesn’t like peanut butter. No wonder he looked so unenthusiastic. Did David just finish the entire plate?

This must not be an easy game for Rhett - he has to wait for everyone else to eat before him, while staring at an “erect” burrito (his words, not mine). It’s a good thing he has all that facial hair, or he’d be salivating on his plate.

A burrito with all those fillings would be hard to ruin, no matter what extra you put in it. Vegetarian Bethany tricked the system by tasting the non-meaty part of the roll, which means, all three remaining tasters continue to the next round. I feel sorry for Davin, who has to sit and watch while the others try more culinary treats. (I’d dropped out at this point, and based on what’s to come, I wouldn’t have missed a thing.)

I could maybe get pass the purple eggs in the third round, but them being runny is too much for me - not to even mention ham (oh, and I think Rhett brought out Dr Seuss because of Green eggs and Ham, because eggs and ham). But seriously, runny eggs are gross. I’ve never understood why Eggs Benedict are a thing to begin with.

I love it when Link thinks he knows the correct answer:

And turns out he’s all wrong. Bethany’s out, and the last round is between Kevin and David - and a nasty looking salmon:

It would have made the stripes more appropriate, if Josh had used rainbow trout to make this dish - since he calls them a rainbow. I’m not technically opposed to the idea of using either peanut butter or jelly to spice up a fish, but despite the happy stripes, this fish looks like it went through a tragic death and all of it’s innards spilled out.

So the result with which Rhett and Link tie the game is negative one, but when it comes to using peanut butter and jelly in other foods, the limit does not exist.

In More, after hearing another epic 10-word story, “Slowly, Mark philosophisized about tricky ways to boink a dragon(s)”, we get to watch Rhett and Link make sculptures out of peanut butter. We also hear the first few chapters of Rhett’s new book, “12 ways to boink dragons”.

I had to go searching the GMM episodes after Stevie mentioned Rhett trying to sculpt a rocket blindfolded. I assume the episode was the one where they used modeling clay, but there is no rocket - which must mean the rocket part had to be edited out (a rocket sculpted blindfolded can really go wrong quite easily, so it makes sense).

Talking about accidental phallic sculptures...I went to ceramics class yesterday, and opposite me, there was an older lady making a lantern, which had a tall narrow house shaped over a milk carton, and while I was sculpting my own planter, she decided to add a yard and a fence to her construction. After a while, I glanzed over to her side of the table, and the tall house now had a yard neatly fenced, but instead of making her picket fence angled, she had made a two-part rounded fence, and from where I was sitting, it looked very...di*k-like.

The first way to boink a dragon:

Sneak up on it,

Tap it on the shoulder,

Say: ”Would you like to boink?”

Not only was Rhett’s task of sculpting a turtle a million times easier than Link’s Thinker, but I also think his peanut butter was firmer. I would never have been able to guess what Link’s piece was, but although he went through some interesting phases, technically, the final product is pretty accurate, at least if you stretch it a little (photo of the actual Thinker is from here):

Unfortunately, Rhett doesn’t get through all of the ways to boind dragons in this episode, but I bet he has the book ready for when he goes out to play DnD. It would be interesting to know what happened to Link when he just decided to leave the set at the end. Did he think they stopped filming? Has anyone seen him since?

[winchester90210]

The BH 90210 Rewrite. 1x11: B.Y.O.B

Rewrite Masterlist

Read the previous chapter here!

My work is not to be reposted and/or edited without my expressed written consent. (Reblogging is fine and encouraged!!)

Chapter Summary: Parties were never your thing, so a little bit of liquid courage is in order.

Warnings: underage drinking, a car accident, drinking and driving, jail, underage drinking and driving, alcoholism, partially unedited writing. Drink legally and responsibly, everyone.

Word count: 4,000

A/N: Another episode down and we're officially halfway done with the first season! Next is One Man and a Baby and then one of my all-time favorites-- Slumber Party! :)

Feedback is incredibly appreciated! :)

"Why is it that guys get so macho when it comes to their cars?" Brenda rolls her eyes holding her red binder at her chest, all three of you strolling down the halls together.

"I think it's an extension of their you-know-whats," Kelly interjects.

"Party hotline! Cancel everything because we are having a blowout tonight!" Donna exclaims. She pops up behind Brenda, her blonde hair bouncing. "My parents left for Cabo San Lucas this morning!"

"Who's coming?" Kelly asks as Donna pulls the three of you to a corner in the hall.

"Oh, I don't know. We'll keep it private, strictly A-list!" She enthuses.

"Can I ask Dylan?" Brenda inquires, a smirk lacing her lips.

"Ooh, hot and heavy!" Donna teases.

"Just make sure you change the sheets in the guest house, Donna," Kelly giggles.

"Goodbye," Brenda laughs, starting off into the hall.

"Brenda, bring him!" You call out.

"Yeah, there's always room for one more cute guy!"

-

"Brandon, I don't want to go to this party by myself!" Brenda rants, her hands on her hips.

"I said I'd drive you there," Brandon's lying down on his bed, tossing a basketball in the air above him.

"No! You have to come in with me. Look, just stay ten minutes," she argues, "If you completely hate it you can leave." The throwing of the ball halts as he looks at her.

"What if I only mildly hate it?"

"Then you have to stay for an hour. But you won't hate it because Y/N'll be there," She smirks. He perks up at your name, and pulls himself up, sitting against his headboard. "Weren't you complaining this morning about being bored and in a total rut anyway?"

"Everyone's just so Beverly Hills."

"Brandon, we're Beverly Hills," She counterpoints. He looks to the side of her, pondering.

"I'll think about it."

-

You anxiously fidget with your hair, trying to get it to look completely perfect before Brandon and Brenda come. You had to look good tonight.

You hear the doorbell ring and immediately dash downstairs, your feet pounding against the plush carpeted stairs. You pounce over to the door, but you watch in slow motion as your dad opens the door. He's greeted by your friend who was clearly not Brenda, and clearly not a girl. You shove your way in front of your dad and shoot as innocent of a smile you can muster.

Your father's eyebrows go up, “Who--"

"Brandon-- this is Dad, Dad-- this is Brandon. See you in the morning! Love you!" You work your way out the door and slam it behind you before anyone can get a word in. He gives you a peck on the lips as you walk to the car.

-

"Brandon, here you go-- Specialty of the house. Mucho Marvelous Mango Margaritas!" Steve laughs, pouring a thick frothy liquid into a glass and holding it out to him. Music pumps throughout the mansion, as kids you faintly recognize from school dance around.

"No, thanks."

"Alright, a man who doesn't like his drinks sweet. That's cool, Donna's got a stocked bar. What about you, Y/N/N?"

"I'll just have a Coke," Brandon rejects.

"Me too, actually," you nod. Steve's jaw drops and his eyes bug out like you just insulted his firstborn child. He scoffs, shaking his head.

"A Coke?"

"Leave them alone, Steve. They don't want to drink, big deal," Kelly protests, her fingers twisting around the stem of her Martini glass.

"Yeah, I think that Brandon's afraid there's a wild man lurking inside'uh him," Donna's date adds, laughing gregariously. Who the hell was this guy and why was he here?

"Well, at least let me make you guys some virgin margarita," Steve jumps back in, eyebrows up.

"Whatever," Brandon shrugs.

"That's fine.”

-

Steve hands your drinks off happily, the alcohol having a clear and goofy effect on him. Or he was just being Steve because honestly there wasn't a huge difference.

"Here you go, virgins!"

"Steve!--" Brandon starts.

"Whaaat? I meant the drinks!" Sure. You take a sip, letting the intended mango flavor fill your tastebuds. He definitely knew how to make a good margarita.

-

"Brandon, what are you doing out here?" Brenda's heels click against the concrete as she joins her brother out on the patio, drink in hand.

"Hey Bren," he greets her, "How many of those have you had?"

"This is my second, mom. Why don't you have a real one?"

"Because I'm the designated mom," he giggles. He turns his head back to the window, noticing Steve and Kelly getting awfully close to each other as he nibbles her ear. "I didn't know Steve and Kelly were back together."

"Look, it's a party, they're allowed to have fun and talk and stuff," she shrugs. "Hey, why aren't you having fun and talking and stuff with Y/N? I figured you'd be out here with her."

"I haven't been able to find her, I lost her about 20 minutes ago at the bar.”

"I haven't seen her either, what do you think she’s up to?”

-

"Oh! Theeere you are! I've been wandering around this place for 30 minutes and I still don't think I've seen the whole house yet!" You set your margarita down and you wrap your arms around Brandon's neck to steady yourself, "But somehow Steve has managed to find me in every room, so at least my drink never went empty!"

"Don't drink anymore, okay? They were spiked," he warns. You nod nonchalantly. "And I guess you know that already.”

"I knew that, but if you knew that why are you still drinking it?" Your index finger pokes him on the front of his shoulder.

"One or two won't hurt," he shrugs. Not even sweet wholesome Brandon was immune to peer pressure, apparently. "You wanna dance?"

-

"I'm serious, Kelly and Steve!" You giggle, the alcohol was coursing through your veins. Brandon stopped at two, but you had three or... maybe it was four. Well, however many you had, it left you feeling fantastic.

"I cannot believe it! I mean, all Kelly talks about is how much she cannot stand him!" Brenda laughs. Mondale, driven by Brandon, slows down into the driveway.

"All women want is sex!" He jokes, "It's disgusting."

"Oh, yeah yeah yeah!" Brenda laughs, slapping the side of his coat repeatedly. You hop out of the car and hold onto Brandon's arm to steady yourself as you stumble up the driveway.

"Shhh, straighten up, guys," Brandon whispers, "You know mom's sitting on the sofa reading that same book she was reading when we were in eighth grade." You enter through the front door with them and step into the living room, your heels clacking against the hardwood.

"Hi mom," Brenda smiles. Cindy's curled up on the couch in a fuzzy baby blue robe, and a thick book in her lap.

"Oh, hi! I just got so into this novel. It was so good I couldn't put it down," She fibs.

"Well, I'm zoned," he sighs. "Goodnight," Brandon presses a kiss to your cheek and starts up the stairs.

"Me too, actually. Thank you for letting me sleep here tonight, Mrs. Walsh," you thank her and follow at your friend's feet. Slipping off your shoes before you get up the stairs, you trip into Brenda's room and pass out for the night.

-

"He has been bugging me all week!" Kelly complains, "I am never taking another sip of alcohol again." You lean back into the metal lockers.

"Well, what did you think was going to happen when you went into the bedroom?" Donna deprecates.

"Fifteen minutes of fun... lifetime of regret," she sighs. She hasn't stopped complaining about Steve all night, and as much as you felt bad for her... it was kind of funny.

"Well, I regret kissing my mother goodnight," Brenda chimes in, "she smelled my breath and I was this close to being grounded for the whole time they're out of town." Donna looks at her pointedly, her eyebrows up.

"When are they leaving?"

"They left this morning," you answer.

"For how long?" Kelly asks.

"Today, tomorrow, and through the weekend," Brenda discloses.

"So, what time should we tell the people to get there?" 

"I wish," Brenda scoffs.

"Come on, you're not having a party?"

"What's the problem?" 

"Well, he's just about our age and his name starts with a B," you comment, "He'd never agree to it."

-

"So, which do you want? Chicken tacos or chow main with tangy mustard sauce?" Brenda holds out two TV dinners to her brother as you snack on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

"How 'bout a bologna sandwich?" He suggests dryly. She sets the dinners down with a thud.

"Make me one too, will you?" 

Brandon gets up from the kitchen island and opens the fridge. "Man, ten whole hours and they haven't called to check up on us yet," he says.

"That's because they know Mr. Responsible is on the job," Brenda teases, "did I mention to you that we're having a party here this weekend?"

"You we or us we?" He looks between you both.

"You we," you state, finger jutting out to the twins.

"Forget it," he laughs sourly.

"Brandon, come on. We'll keep it small. Strictly A-list like Donna did!" Brenda pleads.

"Forget it! What if mom and dad find out, huh?" He slaps the bread down onto the counter, not breaking eye contact with his sister.

"They won't! We'll clean up everything before they get home. Besides, I already told Kelly to spread the word," She argues, eyes widened and arms crossed.

"Well, tell her to unspread it! Did you know about this, Y/N/N?"

"Look, I'm not in charge of her, I just enable it," you shrug playfully, and Brandon almost cracks a smile. "I'm probably not even gonna go, anyway. I'm still partied out from last weekend."

"Brandon, it's our turn. Y'know, throwing a party when your parents are out of town is practically a tradition in Beverly Hills. It's a great way to let people get to know you, it puts you on the map!" She watches as he basically throws the bologna onto the bread. "You're worried about people drinking, aren't you? The rules thing."

"It crossed my mind," he admits.

"Nobody said we have to be drinking. Other people can do what they want, they don't have the same rules as we do,"

"Brenda, I promised mom and dad--"

"Brandon, you owe me one!"

"But I don't really think--"

"Oh, come on! Don't you get tired of always trying so hard to do the right thing?!" He huffs, defeated.

"Yeah."

"So, what are you afraid of? Let's have a party."

-

"Refill?" Steve's standing in front of you with a pitcher of spiked punch, watching as you stare down Brandon talking to his friends across the living room. "Or are you thirsty for something else?"

"Shut up," you hold your cup out to him and he fills it to the brim. Pop music blasts through the house. "If I didn't know any better I would think you're trying to get me blitzed."

"And if I didn't know better I'd think you were trying to get blitzed. Something going on?"

"That's the thing. There's nothing going on! We made out a few weeks ago and now nothing! It's like it never happened!" You jeer. You raise the clear plastic cups to your lips and start to down whatever that god-awful drink was.

"Brandon's not a man of action when it comes to these things, so you have to be. He's too tame. You have to be the one doing the pouncing. But-- hey, if you don't succeed, I'm always available," he winks. You roll your eyes as he fills your cup for the third time that night.

-

You're dancing with Brandon in the living room, the alcohol beginning to fully set in.

"Soo, are you glad you came?" He asks.

"I haven't made up my mind yet," you tease, "let's see how the rest of the night goes first."

"Well, I'm glad you came. I like you-- I mean I like seeing you. Here. With me. Like this," he rambles. He was... infinitely drunker than you were, so you decided to take everything he was saying with a grain of salt... or was it sand? A grain of sand? No, it was definitely salt. Was it a pinch of salt, though? He cuts off your ridiculous internal argument off with a tequila flavored kiss. You push him off you almost reflexively.

"Brandon, stop," You reprimand, "you're wasted!"

"So?"

"So, I've never seen you this drunk before, and I don't want you doing anything stupid."

"Why do you have to analyze everything I do? I finally get to a place where I can just kick back and no can handle it," he spits out, words slurring aggressively.

"Because you aren't handling it!" You cross your arms over your chest and huff, "I need another drink."

-

After three more refills, you decided Steve might be right-- you have to take that boy head on-- and begin to confidently stride... well, stagger over to him. Until another person catches your eye.

"Dylan, hi!" You take a sharp left and greet your friend with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Hey, Y/N/N," He greets you, "Have you been drinking?"

"Un piquito," you giggle.

"How about laying off the liquid tonight, huh? I don't think this is your best idea,"

"Dylan, I've got it under control, okay?"

He didn't believe you for a second. Your breath smelt like a rejected tequila flavor, you were slurring all over the place, and with the way you put your hands on his chest, there was no way you could've been anywhere near sober.

"I'm not so sure that's true. Come with me to the kitchen, okay? We can get you some coffee, some water. Chill out and get you sobered up," he slides your hands off of him and puts them at your sides.

"I don't need to sober up," you dismiss, "What I need is... air. Excuse me," you push past him, grabbing your coat. You're out of the front door, feeling the immediate, albeit mild bite of the cold air on your skin. You watch as a few cars pull out of the driveway and you embark on your drunken mission to be anywhere but there.

Dylan pulls the curtain to the side of the window, peeking out onto the front lawn as Brenda approaches him. "Bren, I'll be right back," he kisses her quickly and darts out the front door, racing down the direction where he assumed you went.

You're grumbling to yourself about "stupid boys" and "stupid Steve" and "stupid Brandon" as you stomp down the sidewalk, not paying any mind to the swerving maniac on the road and the tires that were squealing like pigs. You shove your hands into the pockets of your coat, rolling your eyes from the sound of the consistent horns.

You pause for a beat, brushing your hair out of your face and inhaling the fresh air. You could still taste that terrible punch. Your eyes are closed, hoping it would help soothe the churning in your stomach and the headache from the music. But when you open your eyes, and you're met with the worst thing you could've imagined.

A pickup truck zooms out in front of a Mercury Cougar and all that you could process as the Mercury collides with the side of the truck is the screaming of the brakes. And the smashing of the windshield. And the smoke. Way too much smoke.

-

"Brenda, what happened?" Mr. Walsh sits in the waiting room with his daughter and his wife as they try to hash out the timeline of the events.

"He was driving alone, so I don't really know. Y/N was the only one that saw it and--" she swallows, "--Dylan's outside trying to calm her down right now. She's still pretty shaken up, she was in total hysterics when he found her."

-

"Are you sure you're alright?" Dylan looked down into your sore, red, and puffy eyes with a kindness and tenderness you never would have expected from a guy like him.

"I'm fine. Really. I just want to go talk to him," you assure him.

"If that's what you want. I'll be out here, just buzz me when you're ready to go," he pulls you in for the umpteenth hug that morning and releases you to walk into the station. You hated police stations. Nothing good ever happened there and if you never came back it would be too soon. Your bare feet are cold against the concrete floors, and while it was gross, you just couldn't walk in heels anymore. Your feet stung and you hadn't slept at all. So, really, anyone who had something to say about your dressing options was going to be met with a total and utter breakdown that no one should have to see.

When you walked into the waiting room, you saw him. His head was down, his face was cut up and bruised, and you weren't sure whether to hug him and never let go, or beat the living daylight out of him for scaring you and being so stupid. Both? He lifts his head to look at you, and his glazed over gaze softens.

"Mom, Dad, can you give us a minute?" His voice cracks as he speaks, partially from being tired. They give somber agreeing nods and head out the door, Cindy giving you a comforting hand on your shoulder as she walks out. "Y/N, I--" You inhale a quick uneven breath before cutting him off.

"Come here," you pull him into you, fighting the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes, and he wraps his arms around you. You set your head on his shoulder. You stay like that for a moment, thankful that he was alive and okay and breathing. But you remember that you wouldn't be this thankful and upset if he wasn't drinking and driving in the first place. That bastard!

You shove him off of you abruptly, "What the hell were you thinking?!"

"Wh-- what?"

"I thought you were dead, Brandon! I saw you hurtle into that truck and--" your voice is straining against your throat, "I've never been so scared in my entire life. Look, I don't know what's going on with you... but if this is what the rest of our relationship has in store for us, I'd rather not stick around to see it. I'm... done. I'm out." He swallows hard, and you begin to wonder whether or not you're still drunk. Were you going to regret this once you got sleep and started thinking like a rational human?

"What do you mean you're out?" He sets a hand on your waist as you go to step back from him.

"I'm done. With whatever this thing was or-- or wasn't. At least until you're yourself again. Because this isn't you, and you and I both know that." You turn on your heel and walk straight out of the door as he calls after you.

-

You walk into the kitchen of the Peach Pit as Brandon is hard at work, setting up the dishwasher after closing time. The last thing you wanted to do was see him, but for his sake, you had to. Stupid cute idiot boy and his stupid wellbeing.

"Hey, B," he jumps at your voice as you lean against the doorframe. He's hunched over, setting dishes down with a clank.

"How'd you--"

"Nat," you answer. You pop yourself up onto the turquoise counters. "Brenda told me everything worked out alright at the hearing?"

"Yeah, in three weeks I can apply for permission to drive to and from work and school. But until then it's back to bicycle basics," he sighs.

"Well, look at it this way: you were lucky,"

"I know," he turns to face you, a sour note behind his voice, "I'm lucky I wasn't killed."

"I was actually going to say you're lucky you didn't kill someone else, but that works too, I guess."

"Yeah, I gotta look on the bright side right?" He snarls sarcastically. You begin to approach him closer.

"Or the dark side," you propositioned.

"Most people think I don't even have one," he snorts. You take a step closer and when he stands up completely, you're flush to him.

"Oh, sweetheart, everyone has one. You just hide it better than most," he meets your eyes for the first time that night. "You're not doing so well, huh?"

"Have you ever spent the night in jail?"

"That's one experience I've had the pleasure of avoiding," you laugh singularly. The eye contact between you two is intense, emotional, palpable. You'd never seen him so mad and honestly? You were kind of digging it.

"It's... indescribable," he bellows, "twenty minutes in a cell alone feels like twenty years. It's unreal."

"Scary?"

"No, what was scary was when I hit that truck. I thought I was gonna die, Y/N/N. And I can't get that-- that sound outta my head and I'm sick of every--" he seethes, "y'know, my parents have been cool but it's like there's still this big cloud looming over my house with this huge neon sign flashing the word 'Disappointment!'"

"I'm pretty well-acquainted with that cloud," you comment.

"Why does everything I do have to affect them so much?!"

"You're their son," you shrug.

"But it's my life, right? I swear, I feel like going out right now and getting drunk just to show them I can do what I want." Oh, how sweet. Brandon's going through a little rebellious phase.

"I know just the place, B,"

-

You take his hand as you lead him down West Beverly, the halls uncharacteristically empty.

"Where are we goin', Y/N/N? I see enough of this place during the day,"

Wordlessly, you bring him to the doorway of a crowded classroom. A girl stands up. You wave briefly to Dylan, who's sitting directly to the left of you.

"Hi, I'm Katie. And I'm an alcoholic."

"Hi, Katie."

Dylan stands, "Hey, I'm Dylan-- and I'm an alcoholic."

"Hi, Dylan."

"Uh, hi. I'm Y/N, and I'm an alcoholic."

-

You sit in your brother's Ferrari at the edge of the Walshes driveway.

"I never knew so many kids had a problem," Brandon sighs, "I'm sorry. I’ve been a total jackass. How are you feeling?”

"I'm getting there. It's just been a rough few days. Are you okay?"

"I am now," he nods.

"I'm sorry too," you apologize, "I totally blew up at you the other night but... I still meant what I said. I don't want to start anything till you've got everything under control. I'm not letting bad timing mess up what we've got."

"No, it's fine. I get it," he sighs, "I care about you way too much to screw this up. And I've already done enough screwing up this week for a whole lifetime. But if you ever want to talk about..."

"I know. You'll be there," you smile. Kissing his cheek, you unbuckle your seatbelt. "Goodnight, Brandon."

"Goodnight, Y/N."

-

-

-

Taglist: @be-patient-be-good @mpmarypoppins @bevelyhills90210 @blueoz​ @harleylilo88 @princess-ghost-alien @hueycat2004 @l4life

[thankyougotham]

Here’s an article that Film Daily wrote about Nygmobblepot. If you’d like to see them write articles about other relationships, you can contact them on Twitter and make a request. They’ve been very supportive of Gotham in general, so follow them if you’re on Twitter.

“Gotham is an innovative show based on DC Comics characters and produced by Warner Bros.  The Batman origin narrative helped us rapt viewers understand how our favorite heroes (Batman) and villains (The Joker, Penguin) came to be. It also cast a light on just how Gotham City became the wretched crime-filled cesspool we all know & love.

As the fandom knows, we’re so behind the mission to Save Gothamthat it hurts, but today we’ve decided to take a break from all the activism and talk about love. Here’s why we and the Gotham fandom ship hard for Nygmobblepot, and why these fantastic felons are anyone’s perfect gateway into Gotham for people on the fence about the show.”

Sample Quotes from fans: 

Mr. Millicent Cordelia

Both Ed & Oswald were transformed by love. They made sacrifices for each other & always ended up back together. They deserve, and the fans deserve to see this relationship respected as a romance on a server that understands it’s the 21st century.

Merc

Honestly because they’re both idiots and they really deserve each other.

Zoe Tomorrow

They’re two individuals who’ve spent their lives mistreated and misunderstood. They are the only ones who accept one another wholeheartedly. Together they’ve learned about trust, sacrifice, forgiveness, and love. And no matter what they always find a way back to each other.

#PenguinSpinOff

Excellent chemistry between them, and a fun, fresh take on these old, iconic characters. They’re like peanut butter and jelly: fine on their own, but especially delightful together.

Rachel

For one, they “really are meant for each other”! They’ve been through so much and have hurt each other so many times but they’ve managed to overcome it. They have a strong bond, would do anything for each other, and somehow they always come back together!

𝕫𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕒

These two men grew up misunderstood and overlooked, and learned to use that to grow. they have risen together, and make an excellent team. they have both admitted to being stronger together, and their fates always become intertwined. they’re destined to be together.

Angela

While I’m not the biggest shipper of Nygmobblepot, I do care for their happiness and for the fans who do ship them. My ship is Batcat. They are best friends as kids & love each other deeply. They always want to protect each other. They are family.

LongLiveGotham #Gotham | #SaveGotham

Nygmobblepot has a long, complex history that reveals both the best and worst of these 2 characters. They have grown and learned much from the relationship. They deserve to be on a server that allows them the freedom to be a romantic couple.

Jenny i love my girlfriend

they are two men who have been abused and undermined their entire lives, but see each other as equals. they have certainly had their ups and down, but they always come back, better and stronger than ever. they understand each other more than anyone else ever has.

(not to mention how groundbreaking it would be to have two characters who have been historically heterosexual be in a romantic relationship)

Hale | 45 Days Till Neo

I’m down for anything with dear Oswald- his chaotic energy is a joy to watch, especially when it’s messing with other character such as Edward and Jim.

Scheming Minor

I am going to say something different in lieu of semantics. Technically in a sense when you get to the details they really are one of the few villain pairings portrayed in a “healthy” relationship in the Batman fandom. They progress, accept and move on; never stagnating. I included the healthy relationship chart to prove a point. Each one of those slices can be seen over the course of Riddler and Penguin’s relationship in Gotham– more so when we reach season 5. Their entire journey is about respect. Adding one more thing – Riddler has traditionally been coded as queer and flits with tentative bisexuality, meanwhile Penguin is known as a womanizer but has rare moments of ’what if’ regarding men. Gothamis one of the few Batman shows that follows through with M/M content.

kebu loves Oswald

They are both extreme individuals, but they fit together perfectly. Both are complex characters that went through life unaccepted by everyone which shaped their desire for more and their paths to becoming supervillains, so when they met it was the first time they found their equal and were accepted by someone. Their paths have been intertwined ever since, and whether they’re together or at odds, they’re always the most significant person in each other’s lives. But even though they ended up appearing together, we didn’t actually see them get “officially” together. Their story has yet to come to a close.

Riz || Professional Mr.Penn promoter

A very complex relationship that cannot be concluded in a spawn of a cut off season like it was. They have had a long journey and a perhaps even longer one before them. Their lowest and best have been shared together and they’re the one person who understand the other fully.

M/M relationships in media and tvshows especially is a rare breed. Even more is the concept of the big chance to make two comic characters and made an entirely new spin on them by being brave enough to make them queer, Oswald perhaps within the asexual spectrum at that. Ed as a tormented, abused soul who struggles with his own identiy and perhaps sexuality.

There is really so much to say, which is exactly why there need to be more to tell the rest of the story.

Vero

While Ed fights with the dichotomy within himself, he’s always felt the most whole when he’s been all-encompassed by Oswald’s world and care. Oswald found compassion and acceptance for all the parts that Ed thought were not loved. They are twin souls that deserve a longer story.There’s always been a complexity to both of them, and they understand the extremes that have made them into the people they are. There is no desire to change the other, only bring out the best in one another and a comfort shared that’s so important.

madi

I feel as though they have stories that extend beyond what Gothamwas able to show through their 5 seasons. Especially with the 5th season being half of its normal length. They mean so much to me, and so many others, and I would love to see even more of them (1/2)

(2/2) and to be able to see Gotham’s depiction of Ed’s backstory, an explanation for the whole Isabella fiasco (like how is she even possible) and a plot line where Ed saves Oswald. We haven’t had any of those since s2/early s3 and I need that in my life. I miss them so much.

Evan

Not only off the charts chemistry, but near similar backgrounds also. Both Ed & Oswald were abandoned by their parents, and had to fight the world their whole lives. Then brought them together and they’ve been unstoppable ever since.

Suzy Dakroub

Because they have the best character development and bond I’ve ever seen on a show! They both truly have no one but eachother. For villains where it’s rare to see compassion and love, these two have it for each other and it’s so wholesome and sweet.

Frothy

it’s the first LGBT representation in such a major franchise on TV! it was taken from us once, twice, but there won’t be a third. i will produce season 6 in my basement with tze and my best friend if i must

Warrior_Of_Loyalty

REPRESENTATION!!! Seriously, there’s nothing quite like it. Oswald and Edward deserve a wedding and a musical episode to go with it. Because, if Arthur’s teacher can get married on TV why not The Penguin and The Riddler!? Please!! Make it happen!

𝕻𝖊𝖓𝖌𝖚𝖎𝖓 𝖎𝖓 𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊 ||

Because they are two characters who have been physically and emotionally abused most of their lives, and even after all of their hardships and turmoil, found love and trust and safety in one another

Azura Lynn Paulin

Because they never got to become a real couple on screen and they deserve to have that chance at happiness

MamaDev

Their chemistry, specifically between Robin Lord Taylor & Cory Michael Smith, is incredibly entertaining and heart warming to watch. It makes my whole day, of not, week better when I see them interacting on screen. FOX did not do them justice by keeping them in the closet.

Queen C

Because their story is FAR from over. Cory and Robin’s skills and chemistry shouldn’t be squandered. We had 5 years of their story buildup and got crapped on in the final episode, and I deserve my #BisexualRiddler!!!

Bandi [Gotham/Good Omens Spoilers] #SaveGotham

Nygmobblepot truly is such an interesting ship. As singular characters they are great, but together, they shine. They’re complex, damaged characters and take comfort in each other. Their journey is a long, painful one, but they deserve and compliment each other. It makes sense.

Anders

They are truly self confident with each other, anything becomes possible. They don’t need any cane.

They have each other.

Mae

they just have such strong chemistry and are so much better together than apart. their relationship constantly evolved throughout Gotham, becoming the main driving force for their individual developments too and… they were just made for each other okay

Tam Loves Kris @ Resting in Home

I see a lot of myself and my partner@MisterPenguinin the#Nygmobblepotship and I feel that their relationship is very well developed with lots of ups and downs and it’s fate that they are both meant for each other.

Kat Shade

With all of the characters that had amazing chemistry on Gotham, the main three had to be nygmobblepot, wayleska, and babitha. Nygmobblepot have been through so much together, and besides how revolutionary and amazing it would be for a show based on two previously heterosexual characters in a homosexual relationship, they simply work amazingly together.

[thecloserkin]

book review: E.L. Konigsburg, From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frakenweiler (1967)

Genre: children’s literature

Is it the main pairing: yes

Is it canon: n/a

Is it explicit: n/a

Is it endgame: n/a

Is it shippable: yes

Bottom line: ‘sup i’m here to retroactively ruin your childhoods by excavating aaaaallll the incestuous subtext

“Two middle schoolers run away to New York City and live in the Metropolitan Museum of Art for a week” is a premise that would never fly in our present surveillance panopticon. It works just fine in the sixties though! This is a well-nigh perfect book and I didn’t reread it on account of the incest subtext, but once I had reread it it was impossible not to ship (and when I say ship I mean aged-up characters since these are prepubescent). Elder sister Claudia is a dreamer. Little brother Jamie is practical to a fault. They complement each other like peanut butter and jelly. Here is a typical exchange between them:

”But if we make a real discovery, I’ll know how to go back to Greenwich.” “You take the New Haven, silly. Same way as we got here.” “That’s not what I meant. I want to know how to go back to Greenwich different.” “You can take a subway to 125th Street and then take the train.”

Amazing, right? Initially she’s trying to Prove a Point by running away because she feels under-appreciated at home—props to E.L. Konigsburg who was unabashedly out here agitating for Eldest Daughter Rights:

Claudia was the oldest child and only girl and was subject to a lot of injustice.

Of all her brothers she picks Jamie to accompany her because he’s got the most money squirreled away. That moment when she singles him out still kills me:

Claudia sighed, “I don’t want Steve. Steve is one of the things in my life that I’m running away from. I want you.”

I DON’T WANT STEVE I WANT YOU. If we flash forward to halfway through the novel, by which time a period of sustained teamwork has forged Claudia and Jamie into a single unit:

What happened was: they became a team, a family of two … You might call it caring. You might even call it love. And it is very rarely, indeed, that it happens to two people at the same time—especially a brother and sister who had always spent more time with activities than they had with each other.

This passage establishes conclusively that Claudia and Jamie weren’t especially close before they ran away from home, that this adventure has changed them, and isn’t that what falling in love is, stripped down to the very kernel of its essence? You undergo a transformation. Which is why I’m arguing for a submerged courtship-and-marriage narrative beneath the surface narrative of “kids just want to have autonomy and be taken seriously” (it’s still a superb book even if you just read it on that level though!!! you don’t have to be wearing shipper goggles to enjoy it).

One of the great joys of this book is Jamie’s deadpan humor. This is him after Claudia explains they’ll be stashing a few changes of clothes in their empty instrument cases:

“All in a trumpet case? I should have taken up the bass fiddle.”

Claudia plans their getaway in excruciating detail, and from start to finish it goes off without a hitch—although when she told him to “destroy” the note she wrote, she probably didn’t expect him to swallow it lmao. Watching Jamie be dramatic is fun because he never does it out of an excess of feeling, he does it out of an excess of caution (later on he nearly batters a door down because he’s convinced Claudia is slitting her wrists in the bathtub). Jamie’s sense of humor is most effective when Claudia and Jamie are bickering like an old married couple:

”How come you didn’t take art appreciation lessons with me the summer before last?” “Well, the summer before last I had just finished first grade…It was all I could do to sound out the name of Dick and Jane’s dog.”

Let’s just take a minute to appreciate how on-point this sibling banter is. They find a candy bar on the floor, still sealed in its wrapper:

Claudia: ”Was it bitten into?”

Jamie: “No. Want half?”

Claudia: “You better not touch it, it’s probably poisoned or filled with marijuana.”

Here’s when he picked which wing of the museum to visit with the express aim of boring her:

Many painters of the Renaissance had painted huge billowy, bosomy naked ladies. She was amazed at Jamie; she thought he was too young for that. He was. She never even considered the possibility that he wanted her to be bored.

Tfw when your dumbass younger sibling does something that makes you want to throttle them:

It caused Claudia to want to embalm Jamie in a vat of mummy fluid right that minute. That would teach him inconspicuous.

Among the shenanigans they get up to while living at the Met, the time when these two INVENTED TELEPATHY to avoid getting busted by museum security has got to take the motherfucking cake. Runner-up is the fact they call each other “Sir James” and “Lady Claudia” on the way to the commissary to purchase potato chips for dinner. Then there’s the iconic bathing-in-the-wishing-fountain scene—it’s the next best thing to sharing a bath right? If this were a romance novel there would come the pivotal moment when feelings are confessed to and this is it:

”I didn’t run away to come home the same.” “Well, this has been more fun than camp. Even the food’s been better.” “But Jamie, it’s not enough.” “Yeah, I know it’s not enough. I’m hungry all the time.” “I mean the difference is not enough. Like being born with perfect pitch…or getting the Academy Award. Those are differences that will last a lifetime.” ”I think you’re different already, Claude.” “Do you?” “Yes. We’re all sane, you’re insane.” “James Kincaid!” “Ok ok I’m insane, too. I’ll go along with you.”

Note that Jamie does not disavow his prior claim—Claudia is insane, no two ways about it—but he’s willing to throw in the towel on the whole “being sane” project merely to keep her company. If that isn’t true love I don’t know what is. I just. Can’t get over how they are SO MARRIED and know each other SO WELL:

”You know, Claude, when I’m not wishing I could give you a sock right in the nose, I’m glad you’re on my team. You’re smart even if you’re hard to live with.”

”Jamie, you know, you could go clear around the world and still come home wondering if the tuna fish sandwiches at Chock Full O’Nuts still cost thirty-five cents.”

”You’re never satisfied, Claude. If you get all A’s, you wonder where are the pluses. You start out just running away, and you end up wanting to know everything.”

Yes, Claude is his pet nickname for her and he kind of employs it to annoy her but at the same time, nobody else calls her that do they?? He’s the only one. Just like he’s the only one who gets her. ”We’re the only two people in the whole world who live with it,” says Jamie, referring to a new exhibit they’ve grown attached to, but he could just have easily been referring to this entire scheme of Claudia’s that landed them in the museum in the first place.

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS

The mystery of the new exhibit, a cupid statue of uncertain provenance, eventually drives the kids to call on the eccentric old lady who donated it from her own personal collection, the eponymous Mrs. Frankeweiler. But first a word about why Claudia is so bloody-minded about getting the dirt on this statue, which may or may not have been carved by Michelangelo. “Finding a secret can make everything else unimportant,” and Claudia is above all someone who relishes the hoarding of secrets. Discovering proof of the statue’s authenticity would enable her to go home the same on the outside but profoundly changed on the inside. If we’re diagramming this story Claudia’s lowest point is definitely when their funds are nearly depleted and they’ve exhausted every avenue of inquiry wrt the statue:

Jamie let her cry for a while. He sat there and fidgeted and counted the number of benches. She still cried; he counted the number of people on the benches. She was still at it; he calculated the number of people per bench.

So Jamie is absolutely useless at dealing with her emotional outburst but he readily acquiesces to spending the last of their money on a taxi to Mrs. Frankenweiler’s house. This is kind of a big deal for Jamie, considering we have him on record saying this:

”I haven’t been a tightwad all my life, have I?” “As long as I’ve known you.” “Well, you’ve known me as long as I’ve known me.”

That’s the sound of me screeching loud enough to bring down the roof. First of all did you notice that for Jamie “being alive” is synonymous with “knowing Claudia”!!! Second, he’s been vetoing Claudia’s motions to take taxis instead of buses/trains for …the entire book up to this point!!! And he says yes to this hail-mary pass in the form of Mrs. Frankenweiler because he knows Claudia needs the truth more than he needs the money. He goes along with it to please her, even if it goes against his most basic instincts. And that’s Jamie Kincaid in a nutshell: he’ll follow his sister anywhere.

The reason I want to dwell on Claudia’s fetish for keeping secrets is because it strongly supports my “submerged romance narrative” reading of the novel:

Claudia doesn’t want adventure. She likes baths and feeling comfortable too much for that kind of thing. Secrets are the kind of adventure she needs … That was why planning the runaway had been such fun; it was a secret. And hiding in the museum had been a secret. But they weren’t permanent.

YOU KNOW WHAT WOULD BE A PERMANENT, falling in love with your brother now there’s a secret you’d have to no choice but to take to your grave JUST SAYIN CLAUDIA. Like, yes they figure out the “truth” about the stupid statue but it’s the way they figure it out that matters, it’s Jamie inadvertently supplying the missing piece of the puzzle because as smart as Claudia is, as much as she’s 100% in the driver’s seat of this marriage partnership she couldn’t have done it without him. And the way it ends!! So open-ended!! So much scope for shipping!!! They resolve to adopt this lonely old lady since they’ve lost their own grandma(s), and to take day trips to visit her, and to keep any future visits secret from their parents too. What I love about Mrs. Frankenweiler as a character is that she’s the friend that Claudia and Jamie both desperately need. It’s instantly obvious why her and Claudia are kindred spirits; she susses out Claudia’s motives with little trouble:

”Because you found that running away from home didn’t make a real difference? You were still the same Greenwich Claudia, planning and washing and keeping things in order?”

What’s less immediately obvious is why Mrs. Frankeweiler and Jamie would get along like a house on fire:

”You won it at cards?” I could see the admiration grow in Jamie’s eyes.

Jamie, an inveterate cardsharp, is duly impressed. Mrs. Frankenweiler displays wily strategic thinking by extracting information from Jamie while Claudia’s in the bath, which devastates Claudia because she knows information is the only coin they possess to bargain with, but poor Jamie is like IN MY DEFENSE I HAVEN’T TALKED TO ANYONE ELSE FOR A WEEK AND I FORGOT HOW TO KEEP A SECRET. This is so sweet that these kids have not spoken above three sentences to another soul since they ran away from home. Their unplanned sleepover at Mrs. Frankenweiler’s also yields the funniest exchange in the entire fucking book, which goes like this:

Claudia wanted very much to let us know that she was annoyed and why. She acted cool. I pretended I didn’t notice. Jamie didn’t pretend; he simply did not notice.

“I’ll skip the soup,” Claudia announced.

“It’s good,” Jamie said. “Sure you don’t want to try it?”

I am DEAD and GONE. Claudia is subtly snubbing Mrs. Frankenweiler, but subtlety simply does not register for Jamie who operates entirely on a surface-meaning level. So he does what he does best (other than cheating at cards) which is urge Claudia to eat delicious food. He’s constantly thinking about food and whining about how hungry he is. But here he’s coming from a place of “this soup is lit, I care about Claudia so I want her to enjoy it too.” I love this scene sfm because it’s a harbinger of their future: Jamie’s totally the type to walk around obliviously in love with Claudia because as we’ve established he’s incapable of ascribing non-literal meanings to things, and she’ll have to clobber him over the head with the truth and it will be glorious. For those of us who ship incest because we like the idea of “secret” knowledge or a “hidden” text that only we have access to, this is it: This book is pretty much perfect.

While we’re here allow me to rec this pitch-perfect futurefic (11k words) chronicling Claudia and Jamie’s further adventures after they go home. It’s not shipfic but it’s startlingly in-character—even the authorial voice reads like Konigsburg’s—and since canon itself is a trove of shippy content, i’m a happy customer. This is Jamie’s BFF Bruce (the one he regularly cheats at cards): “Look, Jamie, am I your best friend or not? Or is it your stupid sister?” “SHE’S NOT STUPID!”

[jessicasland]

The One That Fits Right In Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Rocky Beginnings Reagan stared at the large white school building in front of her. It was her first day at the public high school and since she moved with her family, she already felt nervous. Reagan’s face went pale, she felt like she was going to be sick, there were butterflies in her stomach. It was big, bigger than the palace she used to live in back in Southern France. Was she really going to go in there? Well, she had no other choice. She took a big deep breath and walked up the stairs to the main hall. Reagan look at all the students bustling, talking, and laughing in the hallways. It was completely crowded! She couldn’t even walk without being squished in between one or two of the students. She checked her schedule. The first thing she needed to do was find her locker. It was locker 239. Reagan adjusted her glasses once she managed to get out of the tsunami of students to find her locker. There were endless rows of tall dark green lockers. But which one was her’s? As she passed by the students, she always remembered to say her “excuse me’s” or “pardon me’s” when she was trying to get through, and remembered to say her “sorry’s” when she accidentally bumped into people. Reagan was about to check the next row of lockers to find hers until- BUMP! The next thing Reagan knew, she was on the ground. Her backpack, books, and lunchbox were scattered on the ground. In front of her was another girl. She had short brown hair and sap colored eyes. Her skin was the color of a what someone would look like if they had gotten a sun tan. She also wore very expensive clothing, tall high heal like boots, and had layers and layers of foundation and make up on her face. Reagan gasped and said, “Oh geez. I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.” She pulled the other girl into her feet and picked up all her books and makeup. “Here. These belong to you don’t they?” “Don’t you dare touch those!” said the girl, snatching the belongings out of Reagan’s hands. “Don’t you know how much money all this makeup costs?!” “...No.” Regan replied. “I-I don’t think we’ve officially met before during the orientation. I’m Reagan!” Reagan smiled and held out her hand for the other girl to shake. The girl looked at Reagan and looked at her hand and sneered in disgust. Using a pencil, the girl moved Reagan’s hand away, “Oh yes. The new girl from, what was i? Larodon? Southern France?” “That’s right! Future Heir to the throne to!” replied Reagan. “So, what’s your name?” The girl scoffed and replied, “You don’t know who I am?” Reagan said, “No not really. That’s what I was trying to ask you.” “My name is Harper. Harper Jane Cadigan Scott.” said the girl. “And these four girls make up my group. The one with the black hair is Marissa, the one with the gross looking flying pig thing on her shirt is Elle, the one who’s the brace face is Lorraine,” Reagan mouthed to Lorraine, “You’re braces look nice.” and Loraine mouthed back “Thanks.” Harper continued, “and the one in the yellow which is a really disgusting color BTW, is known as Krystal.” Reagan stared at them before saying, “Nice to meet ya.” “So, now that you know this little group here, get outta my way.” said Harper, turning up her nose. “What are you even doing anyway?” “Oh, um. I’m looking for my locker.” said Reagan, showing Harper her schedule. “It’s locker 239.” “What?! You can’t have that locker!” said Harper. “Why not? The school staff gave it to me so that means it’s mine for this year.” said Reagan. “But that’s my locker!” said Harper. “Everyone knows that locker 239 is the biggest locker in the school! Well, everyone except you Four Eyes.” “I know. That’s why they gave it to me.” said Reagan. Harper growled and was ready to strangle Reagan but Marissa stopped her and said, “Harper. We gotta go. Besides, I heard Kaiden was in our economics class.” Harper gasped in delight, “Why didn’t you say so?! Let’s go!” The other girls followed Harper down the hall, except for Loraine, who stayed behind to help Reagan find her locker and just like Harper had said, locker 239 was the biggest locker in the entire school. Reagan waisted no time to get started organizing her brand new locker. “Shame.” Reagan said to herself. “This locker looks so dull. It would be nice to spice it up a bit.” Then, Reagan had a wonderful, spectacular idea! Tomorrow before school started, she would bring in the beautiful acrylic paints that she had gotten for her birthday back in the summer and paint her locker till her her hearts desire. Reagan checked her schedule as she finished placing the new lock on the front. Reagan’s Schedule - A Day: Mon, Wed, Fri 1st Period-Art 3rd Period-US History 5th Period-Biology 7th Period-Office Aid B Day: Tues, Thurs 2nd Period-Spanish 1 4th Period-Culinary Arts 6th Period-English 2 8th Period-Algebra 2 Lunch: First Lunch Reagan was happy when she saw her first class. Art was one of her favorite things to do! She would spend hours a day just drawing and doodling in her sketchbook. It even helped her when she was stressed or upset. So this class would really help improve her art a bit more, especially when it came to drawing hands. History. Oh brother. History was super long and super boring and History wasn’t one of her strengths. Biology. Mmm, not so bad. But then Reagan remembered she didn’t really like it as much when she was homeschooled because she never got to do any labs at all. Office Aid? What was that? Spanish. Perfect! She more or less knew some words in Spanish thanks to homeschool. And one of her aunts spoke Spanish to so this would help expand her vocabulary. Culinary Arts? Wow! She loved to help the family’s personal chef in the kitchen back home and bake things on her own from time to time to! She could learn to cook and expand from making a simple PB and J sandwich. English. Interesting. Would she be learning the language English? Algebra. It was neither her weakness or her strength. But she was well advanced in math seeing how good at it she was. Reagan checked the time on her watch. 7:55AM “Uh oh.” thought Reagan, “I should already be at art class!” She didn’t wanna miss her first real class. She stuffed her schedule in her pocket, picked up her art supplies and sketchbook, and dashed down the hall to the art room. The minute Reagan stepped foot into the room, she was already greeted with large tables, pictures and paintings from years past, easels, light tables, tables with five chairs for five students to sit at, and a closet filled with tons of art supplies. But the professor was missing. Where was she...or he? Reagan dropped her things at the nearest table and walked around the room while the students chatted amongst themselves. She looked around the large room but then stopped at the closet. She saw a short figure who looked shorter than her, fumbling about where the paints were. Reagan asked in a shy tone, “U-Uh. E-Excuse me? I-I don’t mean to be a bother b-but uh. Where did the professor run off to?” The women bumped her head before turning to Reagan. She looked and dressed like a gypsy women. Beads and all. Reagan’s eyes widened as she saw her. The women hopped down from the ladder and walked up to Reagan. “You’re lookin’ right at her.” she replied. She had a thick Russian accent. “Oh. It’s uh, nice to meet you.” said Reagan. “I-I’m-“ “New student. I know.” she replied. “Davay! Davay! out out out!” She pushed Reagan out of the closet and said, “Take your seat. I don’t have all day.” Reagan said nothing and took her seat. This art professor seemed pretty rude. The women clapped her hands to get the students attention. “Dobroye UUUUtro class.” said the lady, holding the U. “Dobroye Utro Ms. Preobrazhensky.” said the rest of the class. “Welcome welcome! I would love to welcome you all to my Art class.” said Ms. Preobrazhensky. “Now, vhile I take the roll. I would like you to complete your first sketchbook assignment. Vou must draw your name and draw all de things you kiddies like. Uh, for instance uh de Fortnite game or de annoying song vith the colorful sharks or vhat ever you kiddies like now a-days. Da! Begin.” Regan opened her big, black sketchbook and got to work. She wrote her name in big bubbly letters and colored it red. Then she got to work on surrounding her name with many things she liked like. Her drawing consisted of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a lamb, a paint pallet with a paintbrush, a drawing of Iron Man, the symbol for Taurus, a stack of comic books, a steam engine train, Patch from 101 Dalmatians, and some puzzle pieces representing the fact that she has Autism. She didn’t notice that any time passed by until Ms. Preobrazhensky shouted, “Gold Girl!” Reagan jumped in her seat in surprise. Most kids snickered at her. “Come on, let me see your vork.” she barked. Reagan showed Ms. Preobrazhensky her sketchbook. Ms. Preobrazhensky stared at it for a while before she took it to her desk. Reagan sat in her seat for the longest time while the gypsy looking art teacher was staring at her sketchbook. She felt nervous and started twirling a loose strand of her hair (which she often does when she’s nervous). “REAGAN!” Ms. Preobrazhensky screeched. Regan’s eyes widened as the teacher called her. She stood up and walked to the desk. “Niet! Niet! In my office.” said Ms. Preobrazhensky, pointing a long bony finger to a small office. Reagan gulped and stepped into her office. Was she going to get in trouble on her very first day? Ms. Preobrazhensky closed the door and started.....hugging Reagan. Reagan was confused. “Vou brilliant child! Look at this!” said Ms. Preobrazhensky, showing her the assignment. “I had no idea you’s could draw so well! How long have you’s been drawing?” “..Since I was 3.” said Reagan, still twirling her hair. “I’ve never seen dis type of talent in my class before.” said Ms. Preobrazhensky. “My dear! There is not much I can teach you! You have very good talent!” “Really?” asked Reagan excitedly. “...but I wish I could draw hands better. My hands look like potatoes.” “Tell you what.” said Ms. Preobrazhensky. “How about I gives you some pointers on how to draw hands. During the lunch break. You’s can have your lunch here and then we can start.” “You mean it?” asked Reagan with a gleam in her eyes. “Of course of course!” said Ms. Preobrazhensky. “After all, talent like this does not show up everyday. Although. I am curious about de puzzle pieces you drew here. Wvat do they mean?” Reagan fumbled with her words. If she told the teacher, let alone the whole school that she had Aspergers, she’d be the laughing stock of the entire 10th grade! “U-Uh....I-I love to do puzzles.” Reagan lied. “Ahh.” said Ms. Preobrazhensky, “interesting hobby for a girl your age.” “Uh yep.” said Reagan with a nervous laugh. Ms. Preobrazhensky handed back her sketchbook. “So, I wvill see you during lunch on Wednesday?” asked Ms. Preobrazhensky. “Sure!” said Reagan, “Thank you. Thank you Ms. Preoba...uh, can I call you Ms. P?” “Of course you may.” said Ms. Preobrazhensky. “Cool. Thank you Ms. P!” said Reagan as she walked back to her seat. She sighed with relief. .... The rest of the morning went by in a blur and before Reagan knew it, it was lunchtime. She took her orange metal lunchbox and headed for the cafeteria. Reagan walked slowly as she tried to find a seat but most of the students already called dibs on each table. Then, Reagan saw Harper and her group of friends (minus Loraine) sitting at half-empty table eating and gossiping. “Harper!” said Reagan. “Harper! It’s Reagan from this morning!” Harper stopped her, “Hold it Four Eyes!” Reagan stopped dead in her tracks. “This table is for popular girls only.” said Harper. “Yeah, we don’t take in newbies!” added Marissa. “B-But I don’t have anywhere else to sit.” said Reagan. “Tough!” said Krystal. “Let me show you where the newbies sit.” said Harper. She lead Reagan to the garbage cans in the corner of the cafeteria. “B-But that’s the garbage can.” Reagan said. “Exactly. That’s where all the newbies go. Because every single newbie that comes to this school is nothing but a lowlife piece of trash!” explained Harper. “Ask the freshmen! Trust me, this seating arrangement is WAY up you’re alley.” With that, Harper walked away, leaving Reagan alone. Well, Reagan had no other choice. She sat on the floor and ate her lunch. It was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, some apple slices, a little white milk carton, some celery sticks, and a chocolate chip cookie. Loraine noticed that Reagan was sitting on the floor by herself. “You got sent to the trash to?” she asked. “Yep.” said Reagan, not paying attention. “I know how that feels.” Loraine replied. “I got sent here to. But you wouldn’t be sitting here if I didn’t sit with you.” Loraine sat next to Reagan. “S-So. You’re Reagan?” asked Loraine. “Uh-huh.” Reagan replied. “And you’re........Marissa?” “Close. It’s Loraine.” said Loraine. “Ohhh! Brace Face!” said Reagan. Loraine stared at her and started to eat her food. Reagan realized that she wasn’t supposed to say that. “Oh geez. U-Uh, Loraine I didn’t mean to uh-“ “No, it’s Ok. I get that a lot. Even Harper calls me Brace Face.” said Loraine reassuring her. “Then, if Harpers your friend, why does she cal you brace face?” asked Reagan. Loraine looked at Harper and then back at Reagan. “Harper’s cool and all but she’s...she’s a real jerk sometimes.” replied Loraine, “and besides, she’s never complimented on my braces before. I just got them a week ago and they hurt like crazy.” “Oh, here.” said Reagan handing her an Advil cup. “Take an Advil pill, it will help with the pain.” Loraine took a tablet and swallowed it with some milk to wash it down before handing back the Advil cup back to Reagan. “Thank you.” said Loraine. “Hey, since we’re here, wanna tell secrets? If that’s what you royalty folks like doing.” “Sure!” said Reagan. “Uh, you go first.” “OK.” said Loraine. She whispered, “I have had this weird habit of biting my nails. I still have it and nobody else knows this.” “M-My turn.” said Reagan. “The thing is that I...I............IhaveAspergersSyndrome.” “What?” asked Loraine, “You we’re speaking to fast Reagan.” “Sorry.” she replied, “I…I have Asperger’s Syndrome…its a case of mild Autism. I’ve had it since I was two and it-it effects me socially and mentally. I have some weird obsessions. I still watch Blues Clues for pete’s sake and-“ “Reagan.” said Loraine, “I’ve heard enough. But why don’t you wanna tell anyone this information?” “I-I don’t wanna tell anyone because I-I didn’t wanna get bullied again.” said Reagan. Loraine held out her pinky and said, “I won’t tell a soul that you have Autism. It’s a promise. A pinky promise.” Reagan looked at her pinky and joined hers in with Loraine’s. “Thank you.” said Reagan as she hugged Loraine. Loraine was shocked but hugged her back.