#pretty sure it was normal I cry at an instant but my parents accused me of doing it to get my way and oh maybe that was joking I’ve just

[trash-bin-ary]

Okay im gonna reblog this again then actually go to sleep cause I feel it imperative that if cb does look at my account and see the stuff I posted tonight that he know that while him mentioning osdd and memory was the catalyst for it it is not a bad thing that he mentioned it. I need to work through this cause it has itched in my brain forever and it’s a good thing to work through it while knowing that you’re not alone in it

[penaltbox]

mistakes we make - alex turcotte

Word Count: 2.2k

I looooved this request and I loved writing this one!! If you like it please let me know!

__

The two pink lines stare up at you, seeming to mock the fact that this was your life now. How on earth were you supposed to raise a baby while you were in college? Your parents would probably help however they could, but that wouldn’t even be the hardest part. 

You didn’t have to guess who the father was, even though you were barely official. You and Alex had been messing around for months now and a few weeks ago he said he wasn’t seeing or talking to anyone else and it had been that way for a while on his part. You on the other hand had been head over heels since the first time you kissed him. 

You let a hand rest on your stomach, the worry setting in so fast that you almost missed the excitement. You had always wanted to be a mom one day. Of course, you figured it wouldn’t be until way later when you were married and everything, but maybe this was somehow a good thing. Maybe there was some silver lining with all this. 

Or maybe that silver lining would be destroyed two days later. The news doesn’t even come from Alex, but instead from a tweet that some LA sports reporter sends out, tagging Alex in it. He signed with the Kings and he wasn’t coming back to Wisconsin the following year. 

The following year... when you’d have a baby and would be continuing your education at your dream school. The panic sets in even harder then and you wonder when you should even tell Alex. 

It wasn’t the right time or the right place, and you probably weren’t even the right people for each other. But now there was a tiny human relying on you and that made all your decisions that much more important. 

You finally swallow your pride, decide you’re keeping the baby regardless, and figure you have to go tell him as soon as possible. He deserved to know, even if he was probably busy with NHL stuff. Half of this was on him. 

You pick up your phone and send him a quick text, not trusting your voice, ‘can you stop over today?’

You watch the screen, hoping he’ll reply quickly. He was usually pretty good about these things and you knew he always had his phone in his hand. Except today for some reason he’s not texting you back, so you get up with a huff and start to clean your room to try and keep your mind busy. 

Alex busting through your door catches your attention and he throws his hands up, “did you not see my text? You can’t say something like that and then not respond! I thought you were dead or something.”

Your eyes go wide and you grab your phone, noticing a handful of texts and one missed call from the boy standing across the room. You give him a bashful smile and walk over to him. 

“I’m really sorry, Al,” you apologize, “I’m not dead though, if that’s any condolence.”

He laughs, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning down to kiss you gently, “I’m really glad but you scared me.”

You try and smile at him then, knowing he’d be seriously scared in a minute. You both had news to deliver and neither was good. He’s the first to sigh, his demeanor softening as he kisses your forehead. 

“I have something I need to tell you... and I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner,” he starts, cupping your cheek, “I’m signing with the Kings this week. They want me to move up for the rest of the season.”

You knew this was coming, but it still hurts your heart to hear it from him. There’s a helplessness that washes over you then and you swallow hard. You nod, knowing you had to spill your news next. Both your lives were about to change forever. 

“You okay?” He asks, hugging you tight against his chest, “I’m sorry, I really am. If I could take you with me I would, but I know you love it here.”

You bite your lip and realize you have to just tell him. You can’t waste any more time and you’d have to rip the bandaid off to get this over with. 

“Alex,” you say hesitantly, forcing yourself to look up at him, “I need to tell you something.”

He frowns a little, “oh? Go ahead.”

With one last deep breath you put it out into the world, “I’m pregnant.”

Alex’s arms immediately loosen and drop as he takes a step back from you. Your heart sinks and you try to swallow around the lump that’s growing quickly in your throat. He’s shaking his head as all the color drains from his face. 

“No, come on. You’re not... what? No way. Is this a joke? Are you mad because I’m leaving?” He says, trying to keep himself as calm as possible. 

“I’m being really serious right now,” you whisper, crossing your arms tight to try and feel like you were holding yourself together. 

Alex runs a hand through his hair, nervously biting his bottom lip. He mumbles out a couple swear words before he seems to burst, loudly saying, “stop, this isn’t funny!”

“I’m not trying to be funny! This isn’t some fucking joke to try and get you to stay! I know you’re gone after this week and it’s scaring the shit out of me,” you retaliate, not expecting him to lash out the way he was. 

“No, no,” he laughs a little, his mood shifting in an instant, “this is bullshit. Are you trapping me? Why are you telling me today?” 

You feel your blood boil at his accusation, “fuck you, Alex. I would never trap you. What is wrong with you? This isn’t a joke and before you even accuse me of anything else, you know it’s your kid. You know damn well it is.”

“I don’t believe this. There’s no way you happen to be pregnant the same day I sign my NHL contract,” he says, crossing his arms. 

You clench your jaw, trying to compose yourself a little, “Alex, listen to me. I have no reason to trap you when I already had you. But if you’re going to sit here and accuse me of something like this then you can get the fuck out and never talk to me again.”

“I don’t have time for a baby. I have to move to California and play hockey,” he says with a shrug, like it’s just that simple. Like this is just some joke you decided to pull on him today and he’s not in the mood for it. 

“Then go. I don’t need you.”

He stands there for a moment, seeming to think things over. Finally he sighs and heads for the door, leaving without another word. As soon as the door clicks shut you lose all composure, the tears coming so fast you can’t stand up any longer and you have to focus on breathing. 

You let yourself cry on your floor for what feels like hours. The last thing you had ever expected was for Alex to balk on the responsibility and walk out the way he did. When you finally wipe your face off you look down, rubbing a hand over your still flat stomach. 

“I’ve got you, okay? I’ll make sure you’re safe,” you whisper, though you know the baby can’t hear. But it’s a promise just as much to them as it is to yourself. 

And it’s a promise you keep. You knock your grades out of the park that semester and take a couple summer classes to get ahead. Your parents surprisingly don’t murder you, especially once they hear that Alex walked off with no mention of helping. Things go better than you expect them to and the little boy you have ends up being everything you never knew you needed. 

__

When Alex comes back to town after the following season, you have no idea. You cut ties, blocked him on everything, and moved on as much as you could. You still saw the boys in town sometimes and most of them had even met the baby. 

At five months old, he was really developing a personality. He smiled so much and was so good natured. His dark hair and the dimples that were almost always present on his little face made your heart ache almost every time you looked at him. He was nothing but a tiny copy of Alex. 

Alex rings Cole and Owen as soon as he comes back to Madison in May. The boys stayed over for a training session in early summer and they were more than happy to have Alex visit. Alex agrees to meet them at one of the restaurants on State Street to kick off their little reunion. 

It starts off normal and fine, but Owen cracks eventually. He’d seen the baby more times than anyone else and had a bit of a soft spot for the whole situation. He sighs and looks across the table at Alex, letting the question drop. 

“Have you reached out at all? Have you heard about the baby?” 

Alex’s eyes flick over to Owen quickly, his jaw clenching at the inquiry. Owen knew damn well that Alex hadn’t tried to contact you. Alex crosses his arms as a pissed off look comes over his face. 

“Don’t ask stupid questions, Lindy. What the fuck is wrong with you?” Alex scoffs, shaking his head. The truth was, he’d avoided even thinking about it all. He hadn’t reacted the way he wished he would have but he got the message that you really wanted nothing to do with him when he found he was blocked on everything. 

“So you’ve never even seen him then?” Cole asks, not thinking twice about the phrase. 

Alex’s ears perk up though, leaning forward to rest his arms on the table, “him? It was a boy?”

The two across from him nod and Alex finds himself thinking about it suddenly. How old was he? What was he like? Who did he look like? He starts to stomp the idea down, knowing he’d messed up too much to even consider reaching out now. 

Owen fiddles with his phone, pulling something up. He hands it over to Alex and it puts everything to a halt in his life. He looks down at the screen and sees the little boy in your arms as the video plays. You’re both smiling and he knows it was taken on campus recently. 

The baby has a Wisconsin shirt on and a dimpled smile with big brown eyes that Alex is all too familiar with. You look so happy as you lift the little boy up and bring him back down to kiss his cheek. Alex can tell you’re a great mom just from the short video and he watches it a few times over as he tries to commit it to memory. It’s the first time he’s ever seen his own kid. 

“Holy shit,” Alex whispers, setting the phone down and putting his head in his hands. He feels sick suddenly and too hot despite the nice breeze that’s flowing through town. 

“Turcs, are you okay? You look like you’re gonna pass out,” Cole speaks up, a worried look on his face. 

“That’s my-,” Alex mumbles, stopping to take a deep breath, “that’s my fucking kid. I bailed on them.”

The other two boys glance at each other, not having expected this reaction. The way Alex had always approached the situation was from a place of detest. He figured you were lying because of him signing his contract. He swore it was a set up to get you locked in to whatever he’d be earning. He’d never been more wrong in his life though. 

That little boy was the spitting image of him and no one could deny that. He knew at least a hundred pictures at his parents house that looked just like the little guy he’d been shown. He feels a lump in his throat as he picks the phone up again and goes through your Instagram, the one he’d been blocked from seeing. 

There’s so many pictures of the baby and he can’t pull his eyes off the page. He scrolls and scrolls until he gets back to before the baby was born. There’s still a picture up of you and him. He taps it and the memories from that night come flooding back. You’d all gone out and you two had been inseparable, just like you always were. He knows exactly what the caption used to be below the photo, but it’s different now. You’d changed it at some point over the last year and now it makes him want to cry. 

‘Always my favorite’

Alex looks at his friends, a sudden urge to fix things running through him. He had messed up so much and somehow you still left that up. You still let people know he had meant so much to you. He couldn’t let this go any longer. He had to make things right. 

“I need your help, you guys. I need to meet my baby.” 

[vindogy]

Part 4 of the Skully ask that turned into a whole AU

(A little somethin extra at the end too)

After a concerning amount of time, Brian finally began regaining consciousness. Opening his eyes and letting out a few groans of pain, wincing at the soreness of his body, he looked down and instantly realized he was bound to the chair he was so familiar with. No longer having his vision obscured as he was so used to having, he realized his mask was off. He set his sights on Jay, giving him a knowing glare. He stayed silent, his gaze burning into Jay, but didn’t struggle from his position. All he had was an intimidating expression on his face that Jay wished was aimed at someone else. Mustering up some courage, Jay decided to break the silence at long last. But to his surprise, it was Brian who spoke first.

“Y’know, there were better ways to do this.”

Jay gasped in surprise. He assumed that one-word answers were all Brian could manage at this point, but it looked like that wasn’t the case. Brian continued speaking, a sly grin beginning to spread across his face, despite the several bruises and bloodstains.

“For starters, this chair is barely being held together after Tim nearly broke it. Metal’s bent, and I could struggle out pretty easily. Second of all, you can’t tie knots for shit. I already got a little wiggle room and I didn’t even move yet. Third…”

Brian turned his gaze to Tim, who was still crouched down and silent.

“… have you forgotten? We’re a team. I know how to control him, you don’t. Hell, I could tell him to kill you right now and you’d be none the wiser.”

Jay looked down in shame. He really didn’t think this through, and Brian was making sure he knew that.

“Seriously, what were you thinking? I don’t blame you though. I’ve seen how you act. You can be pretty damn stupid sometimes.”

Jay wanted to respond to the insult, but he couldn’t think of an adequate response. Brian let out a laugh and looked down at the blood dripping onto his jeans. He looked back up and flashed a crimson smile at Jay.

“But let’s say you weren’t a dumbass. Let’s say you took me far into the forest, Tim nowhere in sight. You tied me tight enough to make my limbs numb, and you have a jagged knife in your hand, ready to cut me up and bleed me like a pig if I don’t answer your questions. Let’s say you’ve absolutely broken me, and I’m sitting here crying in pain, begging you not to tear into me anymore. My eyes are gouged out, my clothes have been torn off, and you’re there making sure I feel as much pain as possible. Even then, I wouldn’t tell you jack shit. Let’s say you’ve trained Tim and you’re making him crush every bone in my body into fine dust. Hell, let’s say you’ve buddied up with Alex and he’s siccing The Operator on me, making me live through a thousand years of pain in one minute. Even then, I won’t tell you shit!”

Brian let out another laugh, taking sick pleasure in describing his own brutal torture.

“But none of that’s happening. You’re here, having me tied onto a flimsy chair, right next to one of my most vicious partners, and you didn’t even have the brains to gag me! You’re a real riot, Jay, I’ll give you that.”

In an instant, his tone shifted drastically, now looking at Jay with a stone-cold expression.

“But this is all so, so, so useless. Curiosity killed the cat, Jay, and right now you’re looking like a nice defenseless cat caught in a bear trap, surrounded by nature’s top apex predators. Why don’t you give me a reason to not kill you where you stand?”

Sweat was running down Jay’s back. He was terrified. Brian was not like this at all. Not the Brian he knew. Jay stuttered, trying to think of a valid reason that wouldn’t get him killed.

“W-well… you uh… y-you need me!”

Brian raised an eyebrow and smirked. Jay knew exactly what Alex was feeling when he told him to wipe that stupid smile off his face.

“I do?”

Jay tried his best to hide his fear. The shuddering overtaking his body was on obvious tell that he was very bad at hiding it.

“Y-yeah. You and T-Tim can’t take on Alex. Y-you’ve tried before! You need me!”

Brian looked to the side and nodded.

“Alright. Fair point. You can live for now, but if you t-”

“Wait!”

Jay made a sudden and brave interruption. He wanted answers, not another reason to fear the hooded man. Brian seemed surprised by the sudden courage as well.

“Whoa. Didn’t know you had the guts to interrupt me when I’m talking. What do you want?”

Jay stopped shuddering. He had to find out at least one thing.

“Why does the mask calm Tim down? Why does the mask turn him into that?”

Brian gave Jay a pained smile, looking like he’d been wanting to answer this for a long time.

“Aw well, that’s easy. See, when Timmy boy doesn’t get his meds, he gets real, real angry. It was always a slight problem. Back in college, the worst that would happen is that he’d lash out and maybe yell, but that’s about it.”

Brian paused for a moment, and Jay swore he saw a look of guilt in Brian’s eyes.

“But then enter Alex and The Operator. Yeah, that thing had latched onto Tim, but he did a pretty good job at not letting it get to him. Alex, on the other hand, oh boy. One encounter, and he’s out here killing people left and right, unknowingly feeding that thing. The Operator is a pretty messed up thing, y’know? If it doesn’t swallow you up in its dimension to keep your hopeless corpse in for god knows how long, it’ll instead chew you up and spit you out, breaking your mind in the process. Happened to me, happened to Tim, and now it’s happened to you.”

Brian’s eyes began to water, yet his voice didn’t waver.

“And man, let me tell you, it fucking sucks! Tim got even more violent before I was even there to intervene. He’d go on rampages late at night, running around the forest and tearing up all those poor innocent animals he saw. Dude was strong enough to take down a deer with his bare hands. That’s pretty impressive, ain’t it? Too bad I didn’t get any superpowers. All I got was a nasty cough and the worst trauma of my life!”

Brian’s voice was now breaking. He was beginning to lose his composure.

“You know how it feels to wake up one morning with no memory of what happened last night, and suddenly realizing that you don’t care about anyone anymore? I could cut up my own parents with a rusty razor, hear them cry my name and beg for mercy, and I wouldn’t feel a damn thing! Not even a drop of remorse, nope! And believe me, I wish I could. I wanted to care so much. But now, I couldn’t give a damn about what happens to anyone! Not even myself! I can’t live a normal life anymore. Society would lock me up and let me rot. I can’t have friends, I can’t have a family, I can’t have anything a normal person can have! And you know what? I’d prefer being dead!”

Brian let out a shaky laugh, several tears dropping onto his hoodie. He was vulnerable right now. Going against his morals, Jay decided to take advantage of this.

“Is that why you want to go to the ark?”

Brian immediately stopped. He looked up, his intimidating glare having returned. But just as soon as it came, it left. Tears welled up as Brian burst into tears, finally letting out years of pent up trauma and grief.

“Yes! Yes goddammit. I saw it! I saw the ark and by god, it was the worst experience of my life, but it has SOMETHING. I don’t know if I’ll ever go back to how I used to be. I want to. I want that life back so bad. I want all those lost years back. I want to have hope in the future, but right now I’m feeling that the only thing the future has for me is my lifeless corpse in the middle of nowhere.”

Brian took a moment to compose himself. Despite easily being able to free himself from Jay’s restraint, he chose not to do so. Jay wondered if this was a sign of submission.

“You though. After all those years, you began watching those tapes. You learned everything. And all of the sudden, I wasn’t alone anymore. I had a little sliver of hope in my life once more.”

Brian gritted his teeth and shook his head, regaining his anger.

“But you weren’t doing ANYTHING helpful. You just walked around like a headless chicken, getting yourself in spats with Tim. And then one day you team up with Alex despite knowing damn well something was up with him, and together you fucking broke Tim’s leg. No Jay, you weren’t just not doing anything. You were actively HURTING my efforts. You made it all worse getting all inflammatory with Tim. And I went back to being alone. Even more alone than before, since you took Tim along with you only to traumatize him even more.”

Jay immediately snapped back, shocked at Brian’s lack of self-awareness.

“I’m the one who traumatized him? Don’t you think treating him like your personal attack dog would have a worse impact on his psyche?”

Brian lashed out at the accusation, though Jay could see his facade beginning to break.

“Doesn’t matter what I do to him when he’s like that. He doesn’t remember any of it anyways. Unless of course, two lanky idiots decided to break his leg. That would matter quite a bit.”

Jay was getting heated as well. He knew that he wasn’t the most responsible decision maker, but Brian had a lot to be blamed for as well.

“You kept stealing his meds. You forced him into that state, robbing him of the normal life he tried so hard to have. He can’t hold steady work, and his mind is getting worse and worse every time you use him like that. Does that not matter to you?”

Another flash of guilt appeared in Brian’s eyes. He tried to deflect it once more.

“What matters is getting rid of The Operator. One casualty is nothing compared to the damage it d-”

“You never answered my question.”

Brian paused.

“Huh?”

“I asked you why the mask calms Tim down. Answer me.”

Brian’s face got red.

“Well, it’s because uh. . . it reminds him of the old days. I did my research. Back when he was being hospitalized, they’d always place a mask over his face to administer anesthetic to get him to calm down. Tim was too violent, though, so a normal mask wouldn’t work. They had to lock up his entire face into a heavy-duty one, made so that it couldn’t be ripped off or broken. Any time he wears that mask, it reminds him of those times. By instinct, it makes him calm and obedient.”

Jay shook his head as he glared at Brian.

“You’re fucked up. Don’t you feel any pity for him?”

Brian stayed silent.

“Well, do you? Tim was your best friend. Surely you feel at least SOMETHING for him?”

Brian bit his lip as he tried to stop the tears from flowing once more. He remained silent but pensive.

“What even is the ark, Brian? What is this thing you deem so important that you’re willing to ruin your best friend's life to even get a chance of seeing it?”

Brian looked up. His violent spirit had also been calmed, replaced with a softer tone that Jay could tell had a lot of fear behind it.

“The ark is where The Operator keeps all its victims. I saw it when Alex fed me to that thing. An ever-growing empty landscape filled with bodies. Some still conscious, but their minds gone. Some rotted, some freshly killed. Some still crying for help. The Operator feeds off of their despair. It prefers people on the brink of death, so it can suck out as much despair from them as possible. It keeps the corpses to induce even more despair into those who go into it.”

Brian’s gaze went off into the horizon, empty and unblinking, as he remembered everything.

“You’re a religious guy, aren’t you Jay?”

Jay nodded.

“You know the story of Noah’s Ark? Of course you do. There’s a reason why I call this place The Ark.”

Brian grinned for a moment before returning to his somber expression.

“There’s two of each.”

“What does that mean?”

Brian bit his lip once more, this time drawing blood.

“Every person in the world you can think of. A shy lonely man with social anxiety and a knack of bringing danger to his friends. A troubled man running from his past. A cheerful girl who dated the wrong man. Any person you can think of, any combination of traits or personality, anything. Absolutely any and all people you can think up of, no matter how specific, The Operator wants two of. Doesn’t matter how unique you think you are. In there, at some point, you’ll eventually find someone just like you. And that’s when you lose all hope. That’s when you realize that if someone just like you never escaped, you’ll never escape as well. How you’re just a bag of flesh with no purpose. And that’s when The Operator digs in, having the biggest feast of a lifetime.”

Brian took a deep breath, having to compose himself yet again. The stoic personality he kept in his hooded form had shattered thanks to Jay’s conversation.

“The Operator loves taunting us. Sometimes it’ll toss you into the ark without a second thought, wanting you to feel nothing but despair. But I want to go there. I know better. I can go in there with hope and help people escape. The more I help, the more people that can help others. It only takes one hole to sink a boat, after all. Once the ark is empty, The Operator has nothing left to feed on. From there, it’ll starve. And that’s one less horror the world has to deal with.”

Brian’s gaze suddenly turned hopeful.

“And that’s where my plan comes in. If I can get into the ark without being on the brink of death, I can save someone. Just one person. That alone would be enough to hurt The Operator and leave it from attacking us ever again. But that’s not what I want. I want it dead.”

Brian looked up at Jay, his eyes now kindled with a familiar warmth behind them.

“Catch my drift?”

Jay nodded. Brian had completely changed from the psychopathic sadist he was before this. Was a good conversation all he needed? Jay’s internal questioning was interrupted by Tim shuffling in front of Jay. This reminded Jay of another point he wanted to address.

“Wait! What about Tim? Do you really want to keep him like this?”

Brian nodded, then paused, shook his head, then nodded again.

“I uh. . . I don’t know. He’s more useful this way for sure but. . . if you take that mask off him and give him his meds again, he’ll be fine. But is that what you want? How do you think he’ll react to seeing you, not only still alive, but in cahoots with his presumed dead best friend who ended up being his stalker all along. How do you think he’ll react knowing that two of his closest friends brutally attacked him and broke his mind? Do you think he’ll be cooperative?”

Jay was stuck. Brian had a good point. Turning Tim back to normal would cause a lot more problems, and chances are it would traumatize him more than anything. But keeping him as an obedient, unthinking bodyguard felt wrong, and would only worsen his mental state. Meanwhile, Brian had already freed himself and was standing next to Tim, a bottle of pills in hand. He could tell Jay was having a rough time deciding. 

“Well, what’ll it be Jay? Free him, or keep him masked up for a while longer?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Surprise! I don’t know how to follow this up so I’m just gonna say fuck it and let whoever cares enough about this to choose. Of course, if I get requests for both I’ll write em both, but I’m interested to see where people's hearts lie in this situation.)

[writings-of-a-british-fangirl]

Unrequited (Ivar Ragnarsson x Reader; light Hvitserk x Reader)

Title: Unrequited? Summary: You see Ivar kiss Freydis, and even though you're not together, it still hurts. Why? Because you've been in love with him as long you can remember. Warnings: Angst, Swearing (what? These are my niche lately lmao), Sexual References (no actual smut) Request: N/A

A/N: I had to include some Hvitserk x Reader! Eventually, I will get around to writing a one shot for him!

Want to read more of my stuff? >>Here<< OR >>Here [Mobile]<<  [Got any feed back? I’d love to hear it!] Want to see the upcoming requests? >>Here<<

Ivar Ragnarsson~Unrequited?

It was no secret that you and Ivar were close; in fact, it was probably the reason you were still single. Every man was far too scared to even go near you because of Ivar The Boneless. This was still despite the fact that the two of you were nothing more than friends! No matter how much you wished it, Ivar was just your best friend and nothing more. He’d never shown interest in you like that, even when you flirted with him.

         It had hurt, of course it had hurt. Even when he pulled you closer, there always seemed to be a barrier. Not emotionally, you told each other everything, but mentally. It was as if the very thought of something else with you to Ivar was unthinkable.

         But, you stayed by his side because you loved him. Blindly. Unconditionally. Probably more than you should. His brothers saw it, the longing in your eyes, and had their fun teasing you about it. It seemed the only Ragnarsson oblivious was Ivar. Typical: the man you love is the type that doesn’t get hints.

         You followed him all the way to England. It was a leap of faith, for sure, but it was an important journey and you knew that you couldn’t not be by his side. At least, you thought he needed you there.

         That was until you saw him with Freydis.

         He had kissed her. You had only wanted to talk to him about battle plans, check up on him about how he was dealing with his parents’ deaths. Ivar didn’t reveal much to anyone about his emotions but you hoped you could at least remove some weight from his shoulders. Instead of finding him alone, you saw him kissing her and her kissing him right back.

         You’d never been in so much pain. The battles and fights were nothing compared to this pain.

         You ran to the only person you thought could help: Hvitserk.

         Despite being a well-known ‘ladies' man’ and having the Lothbrok ego, he was kind to you. You’d grown up with him and while you weren’t as close to him as you were with Ivar, he was still a good friend to you. He could heal the hurt you were feeling.

         You stormed into his tent and found him alone. You were thankful for that. Immediately, he could see that something was wrong, and brought you into a warm hug.

         “I fucking hate your brother,” you sobbed into his chest.

         “Which one?” he jokes to you, trying to lighten the mood.

         You pull back and begin wiping the tears from your face.

         “Which one do you think?”

         “Hm, what has Ivar done now?” Hvitserk murmurs, leading you to sit down on his bed.

         You sit beside him and fiddle with the blanket he places over your lap. Although it hurts, you’re not sure if it’s your place to tell Ivar’s business to everyone. Then again, Hvitserk wasn’t everyone: he was Ivar’s brother and if you asked you knew that he was capable of keeping a secret.

         You sigh.

         “I saw him kiss a thrall,” you try to stop yourself from crying as you recall the kiss in your head, “He kissed her, Hvitserk.”

         “Y/N…”

         “I know, I know, I’m stupid for ever believing that Ivar could see me like that… I just thought that because we were so close and he’d never been with a girl that he was… I don’t know hinting that he wanted to be with me.”

         “You’re not stupid,” Hvitserk says, gently taking your hand, “Ivar is, though.”

         You laugh and Hvitserk physically relaxes at the sound of your laughter. He smiles and uses his index finger to raise your chin to make you look at him.

         “Listen to me, Ivar is a fool if he doesn’t want you.”

         “Do you?”

         “Do I what?”

         “Do you want me like that?” you murmur leaning closer.

         “Yes.”

         “Then fuck me, Hvitserk.”

         “Fuck. I can’t,” Hvitserk curses, frustrated, “Believe me, I want to. I fucking want to make you scream my name but you don’t want this.”

         “Yes I do,” you whine, “Hvitserk, please.”

         “Don’t,” Hvitserk protests, but his resolve is breaking, “If you still want me to, I’ll fuck you later. Just not now, not when it’s too fresh.”

         “You’re right. I hate it when you’re right,” you sigh, “For the record, if I wasn’t in love with your stupid brother, I would be all over you.”

         It is Hvitserk’s turn to laugh.

         “I’d like that, in another life.”

         “Can you sleep with me though? Just sleep? I can’t be alone right now,” you ask.

         “Of course, stay in my bed. It’s much more comfortable.”

         You gently remove your boots and your outer furs and lay down on the bed. Hvitserk was right: it was extremely comfortable. You begin feeling sleepy almost straight away. Gently, Hvitserk slips under the covers next to you and places a kiss to your forehead.

         “Sleep well, shield maiden.”

~~~

You woke up in the morning still in Hvitserk’s bed. It was early, you could tell, and Hvitserk was still sound asleep beside you. He looked so peaceful and innocent.

         Gently, you rose from the bed and put your furs and boots back on. You stepped from the tent and found that most people were still asleep. As quietly as you could, you slipped back in your tent. To your surprise, you were met with a very angry looking Ivar.

         “Ivar?” you ask in confusion.

         You expected him to still be asleep, especially if he had a busy night with that slave last night. He glares at you from across the room and you make your way to him cautiously. You hadn’t seen him this angry in quite a few months.

         “What’s going on? Is something wrong?” you question further, standing in front of him.

         “I came to see you this morning because I needed your opinion and counsel. Imagine my surprise when I come to your tent and find it empty. I ask around and I found that you didn’t come home to your tent last night- you went to Hvitserk’s. And spent the night,” he talks with a very accusing tone, one that you feel yourself getting angry over.

         What right had he to be angry? To be jealous?

         “Yes, I went to see Hvitserk last night and I ended up falling asleep in his bed.”

         Ivar rolls his eyes.

         “How does it feel? Being my brother’s whore?” Ivar mocks.

         “I’m no one's whore, Boneless,” you all but snap, “Let me make this extraordinarily clear, I went to your brother, we talked and I fell asleep. That is all that happened. I didn’t fuck him.”

         “I-“

         “-And, even if I had fucked him,” you interrupt him, looking down at Ivar poking him in the chest with one of your fingers, “Even if he had fucked me all night long, it wouldn’t concern you.”

         “Of course it concerns me!”

         “And why is that, Ivar?!”

         “Because you’re my- my best friend!”

         “What? So that means that no man can touch me? That I am meant to live untouched for the rest of my life?!” you argue back, “If all you get from this friendship is a power trip from controlling me then consider it over!”

         “Don’t be-“

         “-Do you enjoy hurting me?”

         “What?” his voice softens and his expression looks almost child-like.

         “I said do you enjoy hurting me?”

         “I’ve never… I would never hurt you, Y/N.”

         “You hurt me every day. Every time I have to acknowledge the fact that you are my friend and nothing more, that you see me as nothing more than a distraction, you hurt me,” you murmur, “And, you especially hurt me when I have to watch you kiss pretty blonde slaves. You hurt me when I am in love you and all you do is keep me around for is… Pity? I don’t know and I’m really not sure at this point.”

         “Y/N, I-“

         “-No, I get it. No Ragnarsson can resist a pretty thrall. Why would you want me, huh? I can’t give you anything more than she already does.”

         He sits in silence.

         “You know what, forget I ever said anything,” you say, shaking your head, “I think it’s best if we… Don’t talk for a while. Stay away from me, okay?”

         “No! Not okay!” Ivar protests and grabs your hand, “Come back and listen to me.”

         “Ivar you’re hurting me, please,” you plead, tears forming in your eyes.

         He lets go in an instant.

         “Please,” he begs, “Please don’t leave me. I… I need you. I love you.”

         “Fuck you, that’s just cruel,” you say, eyes looking into his, “Don’t use that against me. You don’t love me-“

         “-Why do you think I got so… so jealous about you and Hvitserk?” he questions, “It’s because I love you! I always have! I just… I never thought someone as perfect as you could love a cripple like me.”

         “Why did you kiss her?”

         “Because you wouldn’t.”

         “You never asked me,” you whisper, slowly calming down, “I’ve never cared that you were a cripple, Ivar. It’s never gotten in the way before, why would it matter now?”

         “I… I thought you’d want someone normal and strong as your husband.”

         “There’s no one stronger that you, Ivar,” you smile, placing your hand on the side of his face, “I don’t need normal.”

         He leans into it.

         “And you’re going to have to ask first.”

         “What?”

         “For my hand in marriage.”

         Ivar smiles, then frowns.

         “I’ve been an idiot,” he admits, “I… I’m sorry.”

         You know how infrequently Ivar apologises and you’re proud of him for doing so.

         “I’m sorry too,” you reply.

         Ivar changes mood and pulls you into his lap. You yelp out in surprise but immediately get comfortable when he wraps his arms around your waist. He nuzzles into your neck and you giggle as his hair tickles you.

         “Can I kiss you?” he asks.

         “Yes.”

         You put a hand either side of his face and bring him in for a passionate kiss. He smiles into it and kisses you back eagerly. You pull back and peck his lips.

         “Can we do that again?” Ivar says, his eyes sparkling up at you.

         “Yes,” you laugh.

         “Everyday?”

         “If you’re good,” you tease.

[emeraldwaves]

Title: What We Lack Part 3 Pairing:  Kacchako, mention of todomomo and Deku/Melissa Rating: T Word Count:  2,972 Read on Ao3 Summary:  

Quirkless.

They’re the last people anyone expects to have a child without a quirk.

Neither of them can fully wrap their heads around it, but Ochako knows Katsuki is struggling far more than her.

Thank you to @its-love-u-asshole for reading this ahead of time!! And @youaremynewdream for being my title savior!!

Full fic under the cut

Shouhei's brown eyes blinked as he glanced between his parents.

"Quirk... less?" he repeated the word back, trying to process what it could possibly mean.

"Mhm..." Ochako said softly, her gaze flicking to Katsuki who stood stoically quiet in front of his son.

"So... she's not gonna get a quirk... ever?" he asked slowly. His lip curled up slightly, as if the idea confused him too much. "Or... is this just for right now?"

"No, honey... Sayuri won't ever be getting a quirk." She felt the air grow tight around her lungs. The more she actually spoke the words, the realer they felt, settling into her skin. She could tell Katsuki felt the same, his hands balling up into fists again.

"Oh... but... isn't that weird?"

"No," Katsuki interjected immediately, but he bit down on his lip, not wanting to yell at his son.

"Your Aunt Meli doesn't have a quirk," Ochako said quickly.

"Hm. True," Shouhei said, tilting his head back and forth.

"We don't want you to... give your sister a hard time about it."

"Pfft," he scoffed. "Why would I do that!?"

"Oi! Don't talk back to your mother!" Katsuki growled, leaning down to stare his son in the eyes. "This is important."

Shouhei glanced at his father, and then back to Ochako. She could tell her son was having difficulty fully comprehending what this all meant.

Ochako loved her son. She loved him from the moment she set eyes on him. Of course, when she was pregnant, she was convinced Shouhei was a girl. So when she delivered him and was given a boy, she couldn't control the shock which crossed her face. Katsuki laughed at her, and Ochako had cried, holding the precious boy close to her.

Katsuki accused her of being disappointed they had a son, but Ochako simply shook her head, saying she couldn't believe how beautiful and perfect he was.

Katsuki might have cried a little then too, but... she wasn't supposed to tell people about that.

"Shouhei," Ochako said finally, taking a seat on his bed with him. She gently brushed his brown bangs away from his forehead. "Can you... do something for Mama?"

"Okay!" he smiled, looking excited she asked him for something.

"If Sayuri talks to you, will you be sure to tell her you think it's cool?" she asked him. "You know she loves you very much, and she loves watching you use your quirk."

Lately, Ochako was working with her son to hone his quirk, his levitation skills far stronger than hers. Like her, he could make things float when he touched them, but he also had control over where the objects went as if he were using telekinesis.

Sayuri loved watching, eager for her own quirk to manifest...

"I can do that!" Shouhei nodded. "It is pretty cool I guess. I mean it's kinda... rare? Like... an old video game!" he smiled wide.

"Good," Ochako said, leaning forward to kiss his head. "We wanted to talk to you before dinner, in case she wants to tell you about it."

"Okay, okay," he said. "Is dinner soon? I'm hungry," he whined, flopping back onto the bed.

"Mhm, Daddy's going to go cook right now," she said, glancing towards Katsuki. "Do you have any homework tonight?"

"Uhm... no..." he mumbled. "Just supposed to work on our quirks."

Katsuki raised his eyebrow. "Hah? That's your homework? Don't lie, or I sure as hell won't be cooking dinner!" he growled.

Shouhei rolled his eyes. "I'm serious! You can ask Arata and Yuuta!"

"Oh really?" Ochako asked, staring down her son. "So if I call up Momo-chan right now, she'll tell me the same?"

Shouhei's eyes widened. "O-Okay, okay... There's a writing exercise and some math..." he mumbled.

"See... if you lie you won't get to work on your quirk," Ochako scolded. "But, if you finish those before dinner, we can practice out back for a little bit, okay little man?"

"Okay..." he sighed, grabbing his backpack off of the floor.

"I'll be checking on you!" Katsuki said, pointing his fingers at his eyes then back to his son.

Shouhei giggled and hopped onto his desk chair, "I'm starting, I'm starting!"

Leaning forward, Katsuki ruffled his hair. "Good."

Leaving their son be, Ochako followed Katsuki as he stormed towards the kitchen. He began to yank pots out of the cabinets, pulling the rice cooker forward. He often angrily cooked when he couldn't quite figure out his emotions, and Ochako normally found it best to leave him alone when in the kitchen. They learned early on in their marriage Ochako was not to be trusted with any kitchen appliances.

She took a seat at the kitchen table, watching him move about. "You should talk to her before you get started." Ochako rest her chin on her palm.

Katsuki froze. "It's late. I need to freaking cook, Ocha," he scoffed, focusing on the food.

"I could get stuff ready-"

"Forget it! You know you're not allowed in here!"

Ochako sighed. She knew her cooking skills left much to be desired, but she wanted Katsuki to speak to their daughter. Sayuri probably still thought he was mad at her.

"Please, Katsuki. This is important too," she urged.

Katsuki glanced towards the door, his gaze softening. "I'll speak to her at dinner..." he grumbled, turning back towards the counter.

Ochako couldn't bring herself to argue with him. Between how things went with the doctor, and then telling Sayuri and then telling Shouhei, Ochako was exhausted and things were only just beginning.

She felt like crying... Actually, she'd spent all day on the verge tears, a few actually falling from time to time. And now, as she sat at the table, she found herself desperate to release the emotions locked tight in her chest. Now wasn't the time however, Sayuri or Shouhei could walk out at any moment and Ochako wanted to be strong for them, for all of them.

Her eyes watched Katsuki dart about the kitchen, his body seeming to move in slow motion. How many times had she sat in this exact spot, and been in this exact position?

At first, they lived alone together, Ochako usually sat by herself, watching Katsuki work his magic in the kitchen. On their nights off, he would cook elaborate meals for them and during busier times, Ochako occasionally burned instant ramen… somehow. Eventually they would fall asleep on the couch or stumble into the bedroom, falling into one another.

She supposed that was how she came to sit at this very table, pregnant, stroking her belly, talking to their daughter who was actually to be their son.

Then this table for two became a table for three, Shouhei occupying the largest spot at the table, since he often made messes, taking up most of their time. Admittedly, Ochako was surprised when Katsuki agreed to have children... he didn't seem to be the type. But he loved her... and he knew she wanted it. Secretly, he wanted to carry on his legacy and so Katsuki became the number one Dad alongside his high hero-ranking.

One day, their table for three seemed to be a little too small, and Ochako found herself whining at the table, desperate for Katsuki to make her whatever she and their daughter (she was convinced again this time) craved.

Finally, Sayuri came home, and their table for four finally felt complete.

Their lives were hectic. Being full time parents and full time heroes wasn't exactly easy, but if anyone could handle it, it was certainly Ground Zero and Uravity.

She brushed her hand over the table, her thin fingers trembling. Her hands held so much of her power, and yet she felt so weak, staring at them shaking against the wooden table. Everything she worked for, the family she loved and cared for so deeply felt like it was about to fall apart at her fingertips.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, her chest feeling incredibly tight. It wasn't going to be easy for any of them. She knew Katsuki was hoping deep down inside Sayuri would inherit his quirk, since Shouhei basically had an evolved form of hers, and that was such surface level disappointment. She was walking on eggshells with him, not wanting to upset him even more. She knew his frustration had nothing to do with her or Sayuri, but seeing him so distraught on her behalf only made Ochako's chest even tighter. Was she breathing properly? It didn't feel like air was getting to her lungs and-

"OI!" Katsuki slammed the pot down on the table, the lid rattling from the sharp movement. "Calm down. I'm gonna talk to her the second she comes out here."

Ochako yelped, gasping as she felt the air enter her lungs, the world seeming to move again. She blinked, and stared up at her husband. "I-I'm sorry, Katsuki. I-I know you will I just... got in my head about it all. It's been a long day."

"No shit," he snorted. He grabbed a few plates and set them down on the table. "Go get the brats, food's done."

"Right," she nodded, standing up, her legs feeling awkward and shaky.

Before she could walk over, Shouhei's door slammed open and he came running into the kitchen. "Food's done! I heard Dad slamming down the pots!" He scurried to the chair and hopped up on it, leaning forward to pull the lid off the pot.

"Oi! Wait for you sister!" Katsuki snapped.

Shouhei puffed out his cheeks and flopped back in the seat angrily, folding his arms. "Fine!"

"You're gonna get served last if you give me attitude like that!" Katsuki grumbled, storming over with more food to place on the table.

"Boys..." Ochako laughed softly, finding the energy refreshing. She gently tapped on Sayuri's door, opening it slowly.

The little blonde girl sat on the bed, looking at one of her toys; Katsuki's action figure. Honestly, Ochako could never really get over having toys of herself and Katsuki, but Sayuri had begged her for toys of her own parents.

Her brown eyes looked sad as she moved the toy's arms up and down, her small hands struggling to adjust the position. She was quiet too, not saying a word when Ochako opened the door.

"Sayu... sweetheart. I know it's been a long day, but can you come eat something?"

Sayuri turned to her mother, and tilted her head. "Okay Mommy." She placed Katsuki's figure back on her night stand and pushed herself down from the bed, walking towards the door. Her little blonde ponytail bounced as she walked, but her steps were not nearly as energized as they normally were.

However, when she walked to the table, she immediately looked down, not wanting to look Katsuki in the eye.

Ochako helped her up into her seat and she cleared her throat, looking to Katsuki to speak.

"...Sayuri..." Katsuki muttered, pushing the rice around on his plate.

Their daughter immediately glanced up, her wide eyes blinking. "Daddy?"

Ochako watched her husband, waiting for him to speak. She raised an eyebrow at him expectantly, but she knew apologies, even to his own children, were difficult for the man.

"I... wasn't angry at you," he said, clenching his fist against the table.

"Oh..." she mumbled. Her eyes flicked to Shouhei and then she looked back down, not saying another word.

"Come on Sayu! There's no reason to be so upset about it, being quirkless is cool!" Shouhei said loudly, looking proud of himself for following his parents wishes. He glanced to them as if to look for praise

Sayuri frowned and stared at the edge of the table. She didn't respond to Shouhei, nor did she look up, she sat silently, her eyes fixated on the plate in front of her.

"Eat your dinner, sweetheart," Ochako smiled. "Don't just stare at it."

Her bottom lip curled out, trembling. "NO!" she yelled and pushed the plate away from herself, crossing her arms indignantly over her chest.

"Oi!" Katsuki snapped. "Don't-"

Ochako frowned. "Katsuki-"

"I'm NOT hungry!" she yelled over both of them and pushed her chair out. She hopped down and walked towards her room, closing the door with as much of a slam as a tiny four year old could muster.

She should've expected her daughter to get explosive about it, based on who her father was.

The slam echoed through the hallway, trickling into the kitchen and Ochako went to push her own chair out, ready to follow her daughter, but she stopped. She didn't want to speak about this, and the last thing she needed was for Sayuri to be angry at her too.

She stared down at her own meal, suddenly losing her appetite, but she sat there, shoving it down her mouth while Katsuki and Shouhei ate in silence.

"Gonna go... finish my homework," Shouhei said quietly as he carried his plate over to the sink, disappearing into his own bedroom.

Katsuki stood up, picking up his own plate and Ochako's though she wasn't finished with the food. She didn't argue, perhaps he could tell she was forcing herself to eat.

Ochako let out a sigh, covering her eyes with the palm of her hand. In the darkness, she could feel the distance tugging them apart; her son and daughter in their respective rooms, Katsuki cleaning in the kitchen. Everyone felt so far away; her family slowly falling apart.

She tried to pull air into her lungs but every breath felt shallow, like her lungs were clogged, unable to fill with any oxygen. She felt like she was drowning, struggling to swim to the surface, water pulling her down. Her chest constricted in on her, as she gasped for air.

"Oi." She felt Katsuki's arms around her shoulders as he helped her stand up, her hand finally moving from her face. "C'mon. Let's go to our room," he muttered, and led her away from the table and down the hall.

Shutting the door behind them, he led her to the bed, his strong hands pushing her to sit down. "Let it out," he said. He knelt in front of her, his hands cupping at her cheeks.

"I-I... I can't breathe... Katsuki..." she said softly, her breath still feeling so shallow.

"Yes you can," he snapped, squeezing her round cheeks. "You need to stop holding your damn emotions back. We're alone. The kids are in their rooms. You can fucking cry, Ochako."

Hearing him say her name, his hands cupping her face in the privacy of their room, she finally let out the sob she was holding back all day. The tears streamed down her face, getting his hands wet as she let out the cries for her family and her daughter. She pulled in long breaths of air as sobs wracked her body, her whole figure trembling in his hold.

He let her cry. His calloused thumbs stroking her soft cheeks while the tears fell, relief washing over her body. The problems weren't gone, but at least she wasn't holding in every emotion.

"I-I just feel... so sad for her..." she sobbed. "I-I know she's suffering and I-I... I hate it... and she's so... young she probably doesn't really know how she's feeling-"

"Oi..." he growled, standing up to sit next to her. He pulled her into his chest, letting her cry against him. "You can't think about shit like this...

"I-I just feel like our family is going to fall apart. Sayuri is in pain, you're... you're angry..."

"I'm always fucking angry, Ochako."

Through her tears, she laughed at that. It was what she told her daughter earlier and she turned to stare at her husband's piercing red eyes. "I know you are," she sighed, her breathing trying to regulate after crying so hard.

"Our family isn't going to fall apart. I'm never going to fucking let that happen," he growled, holding her close, his hand gently stroking through her hair. His words were harsh, filled with a growl he couldn't control, but his touch was soft, comforting.

"I just want her to be happy..." she whispered, taking in his sweet, sugary scent, as she pressed her cheek to his chest.

"That's all I fucking want too," he muttered.

"I know..." she said softly, pulling back to look at him again.

He scoffed, looking down at her. "Did you text the nerd and his wife yet?"

She shook her head. "N-Not yet... I wasn't sure when we should-"

"Tomorrow." He clicked his tongue, his cheeks flushed as he turned towards their door.

"Tomorrow? Katsuki... are you sure? That's... so soon."

"I'm fucking sure, don't make me change my mind," he growled. "I... I want her to feel better as soon as fucking possible."

Ochako sniffed, looking up to her husband. His cheeks were slightly red, his eyes trembling with a mixture of frustration and sadness. He hated not being able to help her; he hated having to potentially rely on Deku and his wife when he constantly wanted nothing more than to handle this himself. Ochako could feel the emotions radiating off of him.

For their daughter, he would set aside his pride.

Sitting up, she brushed her lips against his, cupping his cheeks. "I love you," she whispered.

"Yeah, yeah. I love you too," he mumbled, kissing her back. He brushed his thumb underneath her eye and let out a sigh. "I'm gonna finish the damn kitchen."

"Alright, Katsuki," she said and pecked his lips one more time, watching him leave the room.

She wiped her eye once more, pulling her phone from her pocket as she tapped on Deku’s name. She really hoped he and Melissa could help Sayuri.

[unexpectedreylo]

Mary Sue Or Not?

Having climbed aboard the Reylo ship 10-11 months ago, I’ve written quite a bit about them as a couple and about Kylo/Ben, since he is endlessly fascinating on many levels and he is the last Skywalker heir.

But it’s time to shine some light on our girl Rey, the heroine of this fairy tale/gothic romance novel collision in space.  And the first thing I want to address is whether or not it’s fair to call her a Mary Sue.

One problem we have is no one really can define what a Mary Sue is anymore; it’s become what former U.S. Supreme Court justice Potter Stewart once said about obscenity...you can’t define it but you know it when you see it.  A lot of the time in modern parlance, it’s a lazy shorthand for “a female character I don’t like.”

But “Mary Sue” did mean something once and it was very specific.  It was meant to describe an original character in fan fiction who was basically an idealized version of the author, there to suck all of the gravity of a particular universe in her direction.  Someone I knew in Star Wars prequel fandom once described a Mary Sue as a fundamental writing error.  I would add it’s the kind of error (usually) young, inexperienced writers who aren’t familiar enough with the source material tend to make.  

The OG Mary Sue from the zine Menagerie #3.

The term “Mary Sue” came from a satirical Star Trek fan fiction (“A Trekkie’s Tale”) written in the ‘70s meant to spoof these kinds of stories.  The heroine, Mary Sue, is the youngest Starfleet officer at 15.5 years old and is half-Vulcan.  Everyone falls in love with Lt. Mary Sue; of course Capt. Kirk hits on her but being a woman of virtue, she rebuffs him.  She dies a tragic death trying to save the Enterprise and is mourned by all (in the early days, Mary Sues often died tragically and heroically).   Since then Mary Sues have become more sophisticated and varied, but are often marked by their extraordinary skills, unusual but beautiful appearance, and ridiculously convoluted names (”Mary Sue” is pretty vanilla these days for a Mary Sue).  They also stubbornly refuse to die.  But the principles remain the same:  the Sue is the always the center of attention, the Sue is always a usurper, and the rules of the canonical universe/characterizations always bend or break to justify a character who really doesn’t fit into that universe at all.  For example in “A Trekkie’s Tale,” the normally stoical Mr. Spock blubbers like a baby at Mary Sue’s funeral.  In the infamous “My Immortal,” the denizens of Hogswarts are transformed into suicidal bisexual “goffs” to accommodate its Draco-humping vampire anti-heroine “Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way.”   (”My Immortal” just might be the 21st century internet troll’s version of “A Trekkie’s Tale.”)

I started reading Star Wars fan fiction 26 years ago and every now and then, I’d run into a Mary Sue.  More often than not, she was Force-sensitive and was usually paired with Luke.  In older zines, particularly ones pre-TESB, I’d see the kind often paired with Han Solo that I’d called “Spacer Sues.”  About 20 years ago I wrote a fic spoofing Star Wars-style Mary Sues called “Hello Jedi Sue.”  In the story the main character Sue was sucked up into a tornado and sent into the GFFA.  She had a higher midichlorian count than even Anakin and immediately upon meeting Luke, he realizes she is destined for him.  Over the course of the story, she leads Rogue Squadron to victory against a stray Sith Lord who turns up out of nowhere (she’d never flown an X-wing before), she pilots the Falcon through an asteroid field after Han suffers a heart attack, and of course she trains to be a Jedi.  Leia is kind of chilly to her at first but comes around and gives her a ring that once belonged to Queen Amidala, the only memento she has left of her birth mother.  Some apprentice gets jealous of her and pushes her off the top of the temple to her death.  Leia declares it a worse tragedy than Alderaan.  Everyone’s crying and stuff but Sue uses her Force superpowers to resurrect herself.  She and Luke marry and she immediately gets pregnant.  Obi-Wan’s ghost appears to tell the happy couple she is his granddaughter and Qui-Gon’s great-granddaughter (don’t ask).  

So you might say TFA raised my eyebrows because some of it reminded me of “Hello Jedi Sue.”  Before everyone hits the unfollow button, I DO NOT think that Rey is a Mary Sue.

I’ll break it down like this.  In order for a character to be a Mary Sue, the character must do most if not all of the following:

Be an idealized version of the author.

Be the center of attention, even in situations where it wouldn’t be practical or appropriate.

Bend or break the rules of the canon universe just to fit in.

Possesses highly unusual but beautiful looks and exhibit a large amount of extraordinary skills.

Be irresistible, especially sexually irresistible, to everyone.

Usurp the roles played by canon characters and their importance.

So, let’s go over that list with Rey in mind.

1.  Is she an idealized version of J.J. Abrams, Rian Johnson, Lawrence Kasdan, or George Lucas (who created Rey’s progenitor “Kira”)?

Uhh, I doubt it.  It’s not just that Rey is obviously not of the same sex, but she doesn’t seem to exhibit anything that reminds me of these men in real life.  Sure she’s packed with girl power but so what?  So are Lara Croft, Ellen Ripley, Sarah Connor, Padme Amidala, Xena, Leia Organa, Black Widow, Wonder Woman, that dragon chick from Game Of Thrones, Ahsoka, etc..  

2.  Is she the center of attention, even where it wouldn’t be practical or appropriate?

She’s the main hero(ine) of this trilogy and the avatar for the audience but she serves the same function that Luke Skywalker did in the OT or Anakin Skywalker did in the PT.  So of course the story is going to focus on her.  But if she was genuinely a Mary Sue, she would be doing everything of importance in the film to the point of making everyone else useless.  They could be sitting by the sidelines having a beer while she’s basically running the movie.  

3.  Does she bend or break the rules of the canon universe just to fit in?

This is one point where I think a lot of the contention lies.  She gets accused a lot of being “overpowered.”  Well, what does that mean?  The way I see the narrative shaping up after two films, she is obviously very powerful in the Force but TLJ makes it clear her power level is the same as Kylo’s.  I think the movies are hinting she and Kylo/Ben are something new and unique, a creation of the Cosmic Force in its post Anakin-balanced state.  I hope we get more of an explanation of this because I think it would go a long way to reassure people.  

On that note, another common complaint is that Rey takes on skills rapidly with minimal training.  I admit, I felt this was a problem the first time I saw TFA.  I couldn’t understand why for instance she was able to use the Jedi mind trick so quickly without any training.  By contrast, Luke wasn’t able to use the mind trick until ROTJ.  I couldn’t understand why she was able to defeat someone trained in the Force in a lightsaber duel, regardless of his mental state or injury.  It took until I saw TLJ and saw some comments from one of the story groupers that I understood she’d basically downloaded Kylo’s skills when he entered her mind and she’d entered his.  Now I get it.  But this is one criticism I still have of TFA; it didn’t make that clear enough to the audience.  There’s a reason why George Lucas spent time letting you know Luke was a good bush pilot on Tatooine who could shoot womp rats in his T-16 or Anakin could win a pod race...it’s so that when they fly out to blow up something at the end of the movie, you’re able to understand why they can do that.  Sometimes you do have to make movies so that the common idiot can figure it out!

Now a critic might argue that Rey Matrixing her way to Jedi skills is lazy.  Maybe the filmmakers wanted to make sure they had a protagonist able to get into the mix early on because there weren’t enough Force-sensitive characters around who could’ve taken on Kylo.  But then again, did we really see the OT or PT spend a lot of time on training?  Luke fought Darth Vader after about 25 minutes of training in TESB and we never saw Anakin train at all; 10 years had passed between TPM and AOTC and by the latter film, he was able to do all kinds of cool stuff.  And TLJ makes it clear that while Rey had the skills, she still needed direction and instruction.  She thought the Force just controlled people and made things float!

And sometimes the audience misses things, especially if they only see a movie once.  For instance, the first time I saw TFA I was baffled why Rey was able to pilot the Falcon.  It seemed like Little Miss Desert Scavenger just hopped into the cockpit and away she went, whereas if I just got on a spaceship for the first time ever, I’d crash that mo-fo pretty quickly.  Then when I saw the film again some time later, the dialogue makes it clear she IS able to pilot.  She never left Jakku not because she couldn’t leave but because she was still waiting for her loser parents to come back.

4.  Is she irresistible to everyone?

Mary Sues always get a reaction out of every canon character and that reaction is a strong one.  It’s always fierce devotion, instant BFFs forever, undying passionate and true love, boiling-over lust, or pure loathing and hatred (that of course turns into the opposite or the hater is toast).  There’s never indifference, or relationships that take time to build, or first impressions that turn out to be wrong, etc..  And it’s always instantaneous.  

Most of the good guys like Rey but is any of it different from how characters took to Luke in the OT or Anakin in the PT?  Not really.  The only thing that stands out is Leia running over to hug the girl she’s known for part of a movie over Chewbacca but even Abrams admitted he’d goofed.  And one instance does not a Mary Sue make.

The only characters who have more intense feelings for Rey are Kylo and Finn and in both cases, those feelings are complicated.  

5.  Does she have a highly unusual but beautiful appearance and exhibit a large amount of extraordinary skills?

Note the lack of rainbow hair and silver eyes.

Daisy Ridley is a beautiful young woman but as Rey, it seems like if anything they’re shooting for more of a natural, earthy beauty that befits her character.  There’s nothing unusual about how she looks or how she dresses.  She looks like she would almost fade into the crowd if you didn’t know who or what she was.  Mary Sues on the other hand ALWAYS have to be noticed for their looks.

As for Rey’s skills, this is another thing people criticize.  But in the Star Wars universe, being a Force-user isn’t alone an indication of Mary Sue-dom.  Now if Rey was more powerful than anyone else ever, even Anakin Skywalker, that would be a Mary Sue issue.  But the films make it clear that she isn’t more powerful than everyone; her power level is the same as Kylo’s.  Her only advantage comes from being the more morally correct character in the story.

Her other skills are explained in the films and are nothing unusual in the Star Wars universe.  She’s a good pilot but not such an ace everyone’s saying she’s better than Wedge Antilles, Poe Dameron, and Luke Skywalker combined.  She’s a grease monkey but that comes from years of scavenging.  Her talents aren’t just dropping out of the ether.  

A Mary Sue would be the most powerful Force user ever, the greatest pilot of all time, someone who could teach space aeronautics at MIT at the age of 20, have an IQ higher than Einstein’s, be the greatest and most ingenious hacker, a better leader than Leia, a better shot than Annie Oakley even while drunk, cook like Julia Child, have sex like a porn star, have a singing voice like an angel, and is all-around the best at everything that needs to be done at any given time, ALL OF THE TIME. That’s not quite what we’re getting with Rey.

6..  Does she usurp roles played by canon characters and their importance?

This is another area of heated contention and it depends on what you believe are the filmmakers’ intentions.  Are they setting Rey up to be the “real” Chosen One, essentially changing Lucas’s story?  Are they setting up the Skywalkers as unworthy so Rey has to basically take their place as the “gods” end their cursed line?

Believe it or not, I was really worried this was exactly what Disney was going to do.  Now, I don’t think this is the case.  If anything, Rey is there in part to save the Skywalker line and legacy, not to end it or steal it for herself.  But I suspect there are a lot of fans who still think this is where they are going in IX, so of course they’re going to resent Rey.

I came to the conclusion after seeing TLJ that while Rey is important and the lead character, she’s not the center of gravity in the story.  Kylo Ren is.  Pay attention; nearly everything that’s happening in the films is in some way because of him or related to him.  It’s harder to believe she’s some random OC who broke into the Star Wars saga to suck the attention away from the Skywalkers once you realize this.

All of these said, there’s one more reason why Rey is not a Mary Sue.

Canon characters by definition cannot be Mary Sues!

It drives me nuts that people call canon characters Mary Sues.  The whole point of a Mary Sue is someone who doesn’t really fit in with a universe so the universe is fit around her.  Bella Swan may be a lot of things but she’s not a Mary Sue.  (Now if you wrote a Twilight OC who pushes out Bella, gets Edward to fall in love with her, and gets Edward to give up his vampire ways and become a Christian, THAT’s a Mary Sue.)  Now, some fans won’t accept anything Disney produced as canon but this is what we’ve got and it’s all we’re getting.    

I don’t know who did this--I found it on Know Your Meme--but it’s a decent guide.

[bones-and-tomes]

Nightmare Part 2

(The egos discuss what happened in part one)

“I just don’t get it.” Dr. Iplier muttered as he leaned across the kitchen isle, “Has anyone seen him like that before?”

After being locked out of Dark’s room, the egos tried to persuade the demon to reopen the door for hour or so before giving up. Now they were all, with the exception of the Jim twins, King, and Yan who had all been sent to bed, congregated in the kitchen.

“Anyone? Anyone have any clue?” The doctor’s voice rose an octave as he looked around at the others. All of them were carefully keeping their eyes lowered, some instead becoming far too interested in their drinks. With a growl, the Doctor slapped his hands on tables surface, “Christ! I thought we were supposed to be a family. How in God’s name do none of us have a clue?”

Ed Edgar rubbed his hands over his eyes, “Doc, give us some slack. That man has more secrets than a dog has fleas.” He moved his hands down his face before he locked his arms firmly over his chest, “Besides, you have no more a clue than us, so don’t go be getting high and mighty.”

A few egos nodded at that, but most looked just too frazzled to really have much to say.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He just didn’t know what to do. He was a doctor, more than that he was an ego that was a doctor, a being literally created to want to help people. Right now though, he had no clue how to. “But not even you Host? You know everything. And you, Warfstache, you and him have been around for about the same amount of time. You have to have some clue.”

The Host, who had been entirely silent until this point, clinched his hand around his glass, “The Host tells Dr. Iplier that there are some things he does not look into, and in other cases, things The Host avoids entirely.” He moved his drink to his lips and took a sip, “The Host informs the doctor that Darkiplier is a man of power, who has many layers. The Host learned long ago not to look where he was not wanted.”

So that meant The Host had tried to take a peek at Dark’s back story, and had been shut down in a major way by the demon.

Everyone now shifted their attention to Wilford, who unlike the rest of them, who had huddled together, seated himself away from the group. He sat in the window stile, staring out into the night, seeming almost oblivious to the conversation going on around him.

“Wilford. We are awaiting your explanation.” Google’s eyes were focused intently upon the man, “You are acting uncharacteristically silent. This implies you have more information than you have previously let on. It would be in your best interest to impart this knowledge.”

Wilford let out a chuckle, lolling his head towards the other egos, and locked eyes with Google, “Try to sweet talk it out of me, why don’t you?”

“So, you admit that you do know something.”

With a sigh, the pink ego stood and brushed his cloths clean of non-existent dirt, “No Googs. I don’t.” He shifted his gaze to the doctor now, and Dr. Iplier was struck with just how tired the normally inexhaustible man looked, “Doctor, you know how mixed up I am upstairs. Some days I wake up and don’t know my own name.” 

Wilford closed his eyes, and rubbed his forehead before giving it a few resounding smacks, “I know I should know, I know it’s important. I know it is. I know it is.” He opened eyes again and scanned the other egos faces. “But I can’t. I can’t remember, I just can’t.”

Almost everyone in the room seemed to slump a little father into their seats. Bim smiled wanly, trying to reassure the older ego, “It’s alright Wil. We all know you’re trying.”

Wilford nodded quickly, and turned as if to leave. Before he could get very far though Google asked a question that stopped him in his tracks.

“One more inquiry. Do you know anything of Evelyn?”

Wilford seemed almost frozen for a moment, like someone had paralyzed him. Stiffly he turned back to face Google with an intensity that had been missing before, and he tone was filled with something that almost sounded like pride, “She’s perfect. She’s the most perfect thing in the world.” He blinked a few times and seemed to come to a shuddering halt. Wilford grit his teeth, his face scrunched up tightly, as he lay a few more blows to his temple with the palm of his hand.

Wilford’s words came out almost franticly, “That’s all I’ve got, that’s all I have of her. I just can’t think.”

Dr. Iplier let out a sigh through his nose. So, much for that. “Thank you, Wilford. You’ve done marvelously.”

The oldest ego smiled briefly, “Thanks Doctor.” He straightened himself, and glanced at a clock eyes widening, “My, My! Its almost three thirty, if I want to get any rest I ought to be going now.” His eyes reglazed into their usual madness. “I have a lot of interviews in the morning gentlemen. Might even have snagged one with the Easter Bunny.”

Silver Shepheard, who was laying his head on the table, grumbled, “Very nice Wil, we’re sure it’ll turn out amazing for you. You do always know best.” Shepheard over his years as a superhero had learned exactly how to placate the criminally insane, or so he said. Dr. Iplier had a sinking suspicion he just had a soft spot for the pink mad man.

As expected Warfstache preened at the complement, “Ahhh, Shep, you always know just what to say to a guy.” He grinned madly at all of them before skipping down the hall, and disappearing.

“Was it wise to let him leave? Even if he is having difficulties remembering he does hold our answers.”

Dr. Iplier looked over at Google, “You know as well as I do we wouldn’t have gotten anything out of him. His semi-lucid moment was over.”

Google stared at him for a few moments, before giving a brief nod, “You are correct. I simply wish he had been able to give us answers.”

“He did give us answers.”

Everyone’s head swung to stare at Ed Edgar who watched them as he picked at his teeth. He looked at each of them in turn, before letting out a deep sigh, “Ah, come on folks. I can’t be the only one that saw it.” When he received only blank looks, he let out a laugh, “Boy, it sure does feel nice to be the smartest one in the room for once. If you know what I mean.”

Google narrowed his eyes, “Then by all means Edgar enlighten us.”

Ed instead of fallowing Googles command, seemed to try and sook up a few more moments, of having figured out something before the others, “Why don’t you figure it out? Ya’ll are so much smarter than me, I’m sure you will figure it out soon enough.” He placed his hands behind his head, gloating to himself over this achievement.

“The Host reminds Ed Edgar that this is not a game that he has won. The Host further reminds Ed Edgar that whatever he has learned is potentially important to maintaining Darkiplier’s mental health.”

Ed’s grin melted of his face, “Shit. You’re right Host. Sorry about that. I got caught up in the moment and forgot the big picture.” After a moment, Ed leaned forward and spoke clearly, making sure every ego in the room would hear him, “When Googs asked him about that Evelyn girl, we were clued in on part of who she was. The only time a man talks that way about a girl is when he’s talking about his own flesh and blood. Whoever the Evelyn girl was, I know for sure she was Wilford’s daughter.”

Shocked silence rang throughout the room, and with Shepherd’s cry of, “What?!” The room broke down into complete madness. Accusations were being thrown left and right, voices laying over each other till they reached such a tremendous volume Dr. Iplier was nearly certain that the human world could hear them.

He had had enough of it all most immediately. The Doctor slammed his hands down on the table, “Quite!” in an instant the room had fallen silent again, as the doctor voice reverberated around the room. Dr. Iplier waited for each ego to turn their full attention to him before he spoke, “Thank you. Now Ed, please explain further. As you can see we are all quite confused.”

Ed nodded, “Well as most of you know, I’m in the business of children,” several egos shifted uncomfortably at that, “And by default that means I’m in the business of parents. I hear how they talk about each other nearly every day of my life. On top of that. . . I’m a father. Even if my son and I think pretty poorly of each other now days, I’m still his father. And as a father, I know how another Father sounds when he talks about his child.”

Silence fell across the room again, Google this time, sounding almost hesitant broke the silence, “Wilford Warfstache is well known for his sexual promiscuity. It is likely . . . that one of these encounters could have resulted in a child.”

Bim wrung his hands slightly, wetting his lips, “Okay let’s say that’s true. Let’s say Wil does have a daughter, why did Dark wake up at one thirty in the morning screaming her name? That doesn’t make since. Right? It doesn’t, right?”

“Maybe Dark had a thing with the kid.” Silver suggested, even though he said the words as if they tasted funny, “Maybe he and Evelyn had an affair . . . Wilford didn’t like it . . . and she got killed somehow.”

Ed considered this for a moment, “That would explain the tension between the two of them. I know I’d never be relaxed around a man getting it off with my baby girl. Especially if he got her killed.”

Google pursed his lips into a thin line with his brows furred. Dr. Iplier could practically see the gears turning in his head, “With our knowledge of Darkiplier this does not seem likely.” Bim nodded immediately, looking relieved someone shared his view.

“I agree with Google. I cannot picture Dark ever getting involved in something like that.” Bim bit his lip, shooting a nervous look down the hall that lead to the bedrooms, “Also all we really heard through the door was the name Evelyn, and that’s not much to go off of. I just think we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves. Besides did you see Dark’s face? He- he was crying, and he looked so lost.” Bim shuffled in his seat and he ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t think a love affair would make him look like that. I just don’t.”

Ed threw his hands in the air, “Well do you have any other ideas?”, when no one spoke up Ed continued, “Then shut your mouth. At least we’ve made some progress in figuring this out. What do you say tomorrow we poke around the bush, and see what we get? Maybe if we give Dark the hint we know his dirty laundry, he’ll tell us something more concrete.”

And with that final comment, Dr. Iplier already knew tomorrow would be a horrible day.

Part 1 here https://bones-and-tomes.tumblr.com/post/170385120203/nightmare-celine-wakes-in-the-night-to-her-baby

Part 3 https://bones-and-tomes.tumblr.com/post/170417948348/nightmare-part-3-the-next-morning-it-was-difficult

Part 4 https://bones-and-tomes.tumblr.com/post/170455614303/nightmare-part-4-dr-iplier-was-thankful-his-small

Part 5 https://bones-and-tomes.tumblr.com/post/170498914423/nightmare-part-5-for-the-first-time-in-his

Part 5 1/2

https://bones-and-tomes.tumblr.com/post/170650199613/nightmare-part-5-½-dinner-was-much-quieter-than

Part 6 https://bones-and-tomes.tumblr.com/post/170663439958/nightmare-part-6-dark-woke-to-the-sound-of

[bizarrebird]

make yourself some friends or you’ll be lonely

Prompt from @secretlystephaniebrown -  Diner AU: Tex and York being asshole friends who love each other

So there’s not really any of the actual ‘diner’ part in this, but it’s set in the same au as ‘pour some sugar on me’ and ‘cherry bomb’. 

Also on ao3 here

Warnings: Implied abuse

Rating: T

Pairings: Background Yorkalina, background Chex, platonic York & Tex

It starts on a playground.

“Get off him, you big dummy!”

The girl is half the size of the boy pinning York to the bark chips, but that doesn’t stop her from sending him running off crying, hand pressed to his bleeding nose. She’s got a grin with a missing front tooth and a hand covered in dirt and bandaids that she sticks in his face to pull him up.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, that was so cool, you were like pow! And he was like ‘waaaah mommy help me’ and it was awesome!” York bounces on the spot, not even caring about his stupid lisp for once.

The girl giggles and beams at him. She brushes imaginary dust off her shoulders. “Yeah, I’m kind of a big deal. Why was that guy picking on you anyway?”

Shrugging, York shoves his hands into his pockets. “He said I stole something out of his cubby.”

“Did you?” This girl’s a smart one.

“Maybe. But he didn’t see me, so he can’t prove it and he got all mad.” York should probably feel a little guilty, his mom always says stealing is wrong. But he would’ve put it back if the jerk hadn’t made such a fuss about it.

So it’s his now.

“What’d you take?” The girl doesn’t sound like she’s accusing him of anything, she just seems curious, her big gray eyes blinking up at him.

York hesitates for a moment before grinning as he pulls a small model spaceship from his pocket. “Pretty cool, right? He was waving it all around before, bragging about how no one else could see it unless they gave him the best stuff outta their lunch.”

“What a cockbite.”

Eyes widening a little, York can’t quite stop himself gasping. The girl cocks an eyebrow at him, looking like she’s trying not to laugh. “What?”

“Nothing, just… your parents let you swear?” He glances around, almost as if expecting someone to be there listening, waiting to get her in trouble. But there’s no teachers, no parents.

She snorts and rolls her eyes. “Where d’you think I learned that? My mom says it all’a time. ‘S no big deal.”

“Cool.” York can’t stop the little giggle that sneaks out. He holds the ship out to her. “You wanna play with it? I don’t really like space stuff, just thought it was too cool for him to have, y’know?”

“I get’cha.” She eyes the ship for a moment before snatching it, making sound effects as she waves it around. “I’ll give it to my brother, he likes this nerd stuff.”

She shoves it into her pocket and then gives him a good, long look before offering her hand. “I’m Allison.”

Her hand is a little grubby and gross, but York takes it anyway, grinning wide and crooked. “I’m York.”

Allison tips her head to one side, making a face. “That’s a weird name.”

“Yeah, I guess. It’s my last name.” He shrugs, looking at the ground as his hand falls back to his side. “It’s kinda… hard to say my first name with my stupid lisp.”

He knows the question that’s coming, the same one as always, or the gentle assurance that Sylvester isn’t that bad a name. But they don’t come. Instead, Allison just leans her head the other way, brow furrowed in thought.

“It’s not that bad, but… you do talk kinda funny. You can call me Ally if you want, that doesn’t have an ‘s’.”

York blinks, eyebrows rising a little. This is weird. People don’t make things easier for him. Try harder, they say. You can do better if you just work harder. “Really?”

“Sure.” She shrugs. “I don’t really like ‘Allison’ anyway.”

“Okay, cool.” York tries to bite back the big crooked grin that’s sneaking across his face. He turns away to hide it, eyes drifting over the deserted playground. “You wanna go on the swings? I could push--”

“Hell yeah! Bet I can swing way higher than you!” And she’s already halfway there, bark chips flying through the air behind her.

It’s not until high school and Allison is Tex that they finally have a class together. As much as York likes giving her and Wash shit for being little baby freshmen, it’s so fucking nice having Tex behind him in Astronomy. Even if she likes throwing crumpled bits of paper at the back of his head when he tries to take a well deserved nap.

“So, your place today or are we crashing at North’s again?” he asks as they head for the lockers, Tex on his left, Wash on his right. They’re both a head shorter than him, so it’s easy for him to drape an arm around both of their shoulders.

“I’d rather go to North’s.” There’s a little blush dusting across Wash’s freckles.

Tex snorts and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I bet you would.”

“Aw, Washy wants to see his booooyfriend.” York coos at him, shifting his grip to a loose headlock, pulling Wash closer.

Wash splutters and goes bright red, squirming until he shoves his way free. “Shut up! He’s not! I just… I just don’t wanna go home today.”

And the air changes around them in an instant as Wash’s gaze drops to his shoes and Tex goes tense at York’s side. He instinctively pulls her a little closer, and she goes, leaning against his shoulder a little.

“Go grab your stuff.” Tex’s voice is calm and even, because of course it is. She does angry and annoyed in public, but not… whatever this is. York doesn’t quite have a word for it.

Wash nods and moves down the hall to his locker. Gnawing at the inside of his cheek, York stands on tiptoe, trying to watch, but that kid moves fast when he wants to and is lost quickly in a sea of students. “He doing okay?”

“Hell if I know.” He feels Tex shrug against him. “He doesn’t talk to me about that stuff. C’mon, you’ve gotta open my locker again, I put the wrong lock on this morning.”

“Why do you even keep that old one?” He knows why. It takes him less than a minute to get the fiddly old thing off Tex’s locker, but that means they get to walk halfway across the school together, talking about whatever for an extra five minutes.

She shrugs and flashes him a little grin. “Cause if I get a better new one, you might not be able to get it open if I forget the combo.”

He scoffs and presses a hand to his chest, doing his best to look deeply offended. “Excuse you, I’m the lock whisperer. Have you ever seen me find a lock I can’t get past?”

“Yes. Several times.”

“Okay, but besides those--”

She just laughs and tugs him along. By the time they’re out of the school to meet up with Wash and the Dakotas in the parking lot, the uncomfortable moment from before has all but left York’s mind.

In the back of his head, he knows things aren’t perfect, that there’s some pretty good reasons why Tex and Wash want to spend as little time at home as possible, why they’ve both tried to leave behind the names their parents picked. But it’s not something he can fix. There’s too much shit for any of them to wade through alone.

But he can hold both of them close when they pass out on the couch in South’s room and pretend that maybe it’s all going to turn out okay.

York stares at himself in the mirror, carefully combing his hair into perfect shape. He’s got to get this right. He needs to look good for this. Today’s the day.

There’s a pounding on the bathroom door. “Would you hurry up in there?”

“You can’t rush perfection, Ally,” he calls, smirking a little to himself, knowing he’s going to pay for that later.

“I’m not rushing perfection, I’m rushing you, asshole. Get the fuck out here, teachers keep giving me dirty looks.”

“Okay, okay.” With a final glance at himself in the mirror, York tucks away the comb and steps out into the hallway. Tex is leaning against the wall, but she doesn’t seem to notice him, her eyes fixed down the hallway at the entrance of the school. She’s been doing that all day.

He gives her a little nudge. “What’s up? You waiting for something?”

She shakes her head a little then lets out a huff. “It’s nothing, just… Wash missed first period.”

York’s brow furrows and there’s a slight curl of anxiety around the already potent bundle of nervous energy that’s keeping him bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Did he come in with South?”

“No, he was going to drive himself again.” Her eyes are still on the door.

“Maybe he just… got here late and got stuck dealing with shit in the office. They held me for half the day once.”

She cocks an eyebrow at him. “That’s because you forged your mom’s signature on your late slip right in front of the principal.”

But a little of the concern has melted into vaguely amused annoyance and she’s not having a staring contest with the front entrance anymore, so he’s calling that a win. Clapping her on the shoulder, he steers her down the hall toward the cafeteria. “Wash’ll be fine. Now, let’s get back to worrying about me.”

Tex huffs, but lets him pull her along. They stop in the doorway of the cafeteria and York stands on his tiptoes, trying to peer over the crowds of students milling about, looking for that telltale bright red hair.

“Over there.” Tex points toward the back corner. York is never going to forgive the genetics that made Tex and Wash both shoot up over the summer, each of them getting almost five inches on him. It’s just not fair. “She’s in the back--it looks like she’s talking to that Connie girl. Ooh, looks like they’re getting cozy, you better hurry,” she says, giving him a teasing nudge.

“Very funny.” He nudges back, smile in place, though there’s a horrible lurching in his gut as he looks over where she’s pointing. Taking a breath, he shakes out his hands at his sides. “Alright, remind me of the plan.”

“Jesus Christ.” Tex sighs and pinches the bridge of her crooked nose. Grabbing him by the shoulders, she starts propelling him through the cafeteria, talking in his ear all the while. “You’re going to go up and introduce yourself--like a normal person, no stupid lines, no witty jokes, just say hi and ask her out.”

“Right. I can do that. I can talk with my mouth and make words go. I’ve got this. How’s my hair? Tex, tell me I’m pretty.”

“Out of ten, you’re at least a solid seven, maybe an eight in good lighting.” She comes to a stop several feet away and gives him a little shove and a slap on the ass. “Go get her, moron.”

York nods to himself, stumbling a little before regaining his usual stride. Dragging a hand through his hair, aiming to give it that perfect ‘sexy messy bedhead’ look, he glances back at Tex, who’s taken a seat at an empty table. She gives him two big thumbs up and a wide grin. Right, he can do this. He’s got this.

Or he would, if the school hadn’t cheaped out so much on their wet floor signs. York’s a foot away when he slips and starts sliding, just as beautiful, mystery girl turns toward him. Mystery girl has some really, really nice arms that manage to catch him and stop him landing flat on his face. She laughs as she steadies him.

“Are you alright?”

She has the greenest eyes in the world and her eyebrows don’t match her hair and York’s hands are suddenly the sweatiest anything in the universe has ever been, he could fill a swimming pool with the ridiculous amount of damp rushing out of his skin. Jesus Christ, why did he think he could do this?

“I’m super,” he says. Except, it doesn’t sound like ‘super’. He hasn’t lisped in years, years. But there it is, rising from the depths past countless hours of speech therapy and careful practice. If the ground could just open up and swallow him whole right now that would be awesome.

Wincing a little, he tries to recover. He can do this. Half the school is totally into him. Or he’s pretty sure they are anyway. It’s not like he’s mister jock popular or anything, but he definitely has that outcast bad boy thing going for him. He’s got this.

“I mean, I’m fine. Sorry about that, didn’t mean to fall for you--on you.” Nailed it. Nothing like a smooth, accidental on purpose slip of the tongue to crank up the charm.

But mystery girl looks more amused than impressed, one of her eyebrows rising, her lips curling like she’s trying not to laugh. Fine, amused is fine, he can work with that. “I’m sure. Maybe you should sit down before you get any further ahead of yourself.”

Oh no. She’s clever, and there’s a little smirk on her face and a sparkle in her eyes and he’s so doomed.

Her name is Carolina. They end up sitting and talking together for a while, it could be a few minutes, could be hours for all that York knows. She’s new this year since she just moved back in with her dad after a few years of boarding school. Her brother’s already been here a year, and York’s pretty sure he sounds like the loser who’s been trailing after Tex for months. They’re talking about classes and comparing schedules when York glances over toward Tex’s table.

And he goes still, stopping mid word.

Tex is sitting there, talking to the principal. She looks like she’s about to be sick, her hands gripping the strap of her backpack so tight he can see her knuckles turning white even from half a room away. It looks like she’s shaking.

“Uh, hey, Carolina, I’m really sorry. I’ve gotta just… go check on my friend. I’ll be right back,” he says, offering her a quick grin before getting up and moving to Tex’s side.

“Hey, is everything okay over here?” His smile is wide and easy, even when the principal shoots him a look, implying he should probably make himself scarce.

“There’s been an accident, but it’s none of your concern--”

“It’s Wash.” Tex’s voice is clipped and strangely quiet. She rises and grabs at his arm as if to steady herself. “I need a ride. Right now.”

“Uh yeah, sure. Let’s go.”

The principal still doesn’t look like he approves, but he doesn’t stop them. That’s… so not a good sign. York waits until they’re out of the cafeteria and heading toward the parking lot before he starts asking questions. “What the hell’s going on? What happened to Wash?”

“He’s in the hospital. There was some accident, he crashed--I don’t know, he barely told me anything.”

“Holy shit.” York pulls his arm from Tex’s grip, grabbing her hand instead, squeezing as he picks up the pace, tugging her along to his shitty old truck.

It’s probably not the best idea to speed given that they’re going to check on someone who literally just got in an accident, but York doesn’t pay a whole lot of attention to speed limits on the way there. His grip on Tex’s hand never lets up.

“What if I just blow it off?”

York’s sprawled out on his bed. His room is a mess, as usual. Not like his mom cares. Hell, as long as he hasn’t set the place on fire, she couldn’t give less of a shit. And it’s not like he’s going to be there too much longer. She’s probably going to turn it into a craft room or something as soon as he’s gone.

Tex looks up from where she’s sitting in his desk chair. She’s got her feet kicked up on his desk as she looks through his mail. There’s more than he’s ever gotten in his entire life. This is what he gets for applying to two dozen colleges just to make sure something stuck. He can’t believe even half of them accepted him.

It’s not like his grades are terrible, but he’s no Carolina. She’s already heard back from three Ivy Leagues who are desperate to take her. Of course, the only school her dad wanted had to be the one that waitlisted her. Such fucking bullshit.

They hadn’t accepted him either, but… he hadn’t really expected them to.

“Blow off what?” Tex’s eyes are narrowed like she already knows the answer.

“The whole college thing. It seems kinda overrated, and the loans are a total scam. Even if I get decent financial aid, I’m gonna be in debt till I’m thirty. What’s the point?”

“The point is that it gets you the fuck out of here,” she says, flicking a letter at him. “I thought you were into this?”

He shrugs. “I was when I was just applying to every school in New York for the hell of it, but I dunno…”

“Are you freaking out about this? Usually when you freak out there’s more pacing.”

“I’m not freaking out.” Except he is. So, so much. The letters make it too real. Groaning, he throws an arm over his eyes. “What if I just like… don’t go? That’s a thing I can do right?”

“No, it’s not.” He hears Tex get up and walk over and knows she’s glaring down at him. “Okay, what the hell is this about?”

York blows out a breath and sits up. There’s a stack of letters at the end of his bed, some clearly big fat acceptances, others much thinner, none of them ease the frantic churning nerves that are making him flashback to the burnt as shit grilled cheese he had earlier. Tex can’t cook for shit, but she tries, and no one burns a sandwich like she does.

“I’ve just been thinking… what if I took the money my mom’s been saving for college and just… used it to get an apartment? I can probably get a job somewhere in town, and then you can just crash at my place whenever you want, Wash too. And I mean, Lina and I were gonna end up doing the long distance thing anyway. It’ll actually be shorter if I just stay here--”

“Okay, you need to stop right fucking now.” The bed dips as Tex plops down next to him. York doesn't have to look at her to know she’s glaring. “Where the hell did this come from?”

He shrugs, pulling a few letters from the pile into his lap, flicking through them, not really reading anything written on the envelopes. “Nowhere. I’ve just been thinking it would be easier if I stuck around here a while. It’s not a big deal if I put it off a year.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Tex holds up her hands. “Are you doing this cause you don’t want to go to college without me?”

York hums and shakes his head. “I’m pretty sure that’s not what I said. Who says this is about you? Maybe it’s about Wash. Or even Church. You know the little asshole is very near and dear to my heart, maybe I want to stick around to make sure he has a shoulder to cry on the next time you dump him.”

“Oh please, he’s got people for that,” she says, rolling her eyes. “And I’ve only done that like… twice this year. But that’s not what we’re fighting about here.”

“Are we fighting? Why didn’t you tell me? I need to stretch first, you know that.”

Tex huffs and lightly shoves at his shoulder. “York, would you be serious just for five minutes here?”

“That’s a trick question.”

“Oh my god.” She groans and leans forward, her head thunking against his shoulder as he just grins at her. “You’re such a bitch sometimes.”

“I know I am, but what are you?”

“Gonna fucking punch you in a second here.”

“Wow, Tex, threats? What is the world coming to?” He shakes his head and tosses the letters back into the pile. “But okay, okay… I just--I guess I always thought college was one of those future things that was never going to actually happen. But now it is…”

“Ha, you’re totally freaking out, I knew it.” She lifts her head up and smirks at him a little, but it doesn’t last long before her expression gets a little softer. “It’s not as big of a deal as it seems. And it’s not like we’re going to stop talking or anything… you know that right?”

York suddenly finds the floor immensely fascinating as he shrugs. There’s an indignant squawk from Tex as she smacks at his shoulder. “That’s it, isn’t it? You think this is gonna fuck things up?”

“It’s a possibility.”

“You’re such an idiot.” The bed shifts and he feels her back press against his. “I’m gonna call you so much you’ll get sick of me. And it’s not like this is the first time--we still talk to North every other day, and even South calls once a week.”

“Yeah, they do.” He wants that to reassure him, he really does. Letting out a breath, he runs a hand through his hair. “I just… I don’t like that I won’t be able to just walk over to your house any time. I know it’s stupid…”

“It kinda is.” But that doesn’t stop her from reaching to grab at his hand. “Look, it’ll be okay. Trust me. Fuck, we’ve been stuck it out this long, this isn’t gonna be what messes things up.”

“Promise?”

“You’re such a loser.” There’s a slight pause, and then she sighs, knocking her head lightly back against his. “Yeah… okay, I promise.”

When asked what he remembers about the incident years later, York will mostly say loud. After being pressed a bit more, he’ll say loud and bright and ow.

York’s woken up from enough head injuries to know when he’s got one. He comes to slowly, keeping his eyes closed as he tries to figure things out around him. There’s soft beeping that’s more familiar than it probably should be. Not for the first time, he’s suddenly sure that his particular group of friends has spent way too much time in the emergency room.

But it sounds weird. A little distant. Or like someone filled one of his ears with cotton. That’s probably not great.

He blinks, or he tries to. The left side of his face feels weird, sort of numb and covered in bandages. They must be covering his eye too for some reason. That… doesn’t seem good.

“York?” Carolina’s voice is a little distant, but there’s no mistaking it.

He turns toward where it sounds like she’s coming from, finding her sitting to his right. It feels weird, but he still manages a smile. “Hey there Carolina. Am I dead? Cause you look like an angel.”

She snorts, but her eyes look red and tired. At least there’s no tears there now. Nothing has ever been more terrifying than seeing Carolina cry. There’s a scraping sound as she drags her chair closer to the bed. “Not funny.”

“I don’t know, I think that one was pretty good. Definitely better than the pie one.”

Carolina sighs and shakes her head, but she takes his hand when he reaches for her. “How are you feeling?”

“Mm, like I’m on some really, really awesome painkillers.” His grin grows a little when she manages a shaky smile, but it doesn’t last. “So… guess I must’ve got pretty fucked up?”

“That’s putting it mildly.” And there’s a little bit of a bite to her tone.

“Do you know what the damage is?”

Letting out a breath, she shakes her head. “Not yet. The doctors said they did what they could, but they aren’t telling me much since I’m not family.”

“Pssh, lame. You should’ve told them you’re my sister, so then we could make out and creep everyone out.”

Snorting again, she ducks her head, giving his hand a little squeeze. “They’ve definitely been giving you too much morphine if you’re making jokes that bad.”

“Got you to smile, didn’t it?”

She looks up at him, that smile still lingering as she nods. “Yeah, I guess it did.”

There’s the sound of a door opening and Carolina looks somewhere past the foot of his bed. York can’t really see what’s happening, but he notices the way Carolina’s face suddenly goes cold, her eyes narrowing, back straightening. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see if he was awake yet.” That’s Tex’s voice. Uh oh. Not good.

With a little grunt of effort, York tries to push himself up. “Tex, hey, are you here to cry at my bedside too?”

“You wish,” she says, smirking, but there’s a slight softness to her eyes. Shit, this must be really serious then. “The doctors said you might be waking up soon, figured I should make sure you weren’t dead.”

“I appreciate that.”

Carolina doesn’t look like she shares the sentiment, still glaring daggers at Tex. York squeezes her hand a little to get her attention. “Hey, Lina? Can you go see if they’ve got any good food here? I’m starving.”

She looks down at him, for a moment, it seems like she’s going to protest, but then there’s a little slump to her shoulders. “Sure. I should call North anyway. He’s been texting me every five minutes for updates.”

“Oh well, you definitely need to get that. Can’t keep Mother North waiting.”

There’s a little hint of a smile on her face as she leans down and meets him for a quick little kiss. The glare is back as she straightens up and heads out of the room, shouldering past Tex. Since day one, there’s been some… unpleasantness there. York’s always seen it, but this seems like… more somehow.

Tex isn’t glaring as she watches Carolina go though. And that’s also really fucking weird. She steps into the room, closing the door behind her as she moves to sit on the edge of his bed, apparently ignoring the chair Carolina just vacated.

York’s brow furrows. “Okay, you’ve got serious face, what’s up?”

Grimacing, Tex stares at her hands. “It’s my fault.”

Oh boy. This already. With a little groan, York pushes himself up, sitting back against his pillows. “No.”

Tex blinks at him. “What do you mean no?”

“I mean what I said. No. Not your fault, and we’re not doing this. We don’t do this, remember?” It’s been their rule since fifth grade and the time he had accidentally gotten Tex’s hand stuck in a hole puncher. They don’t blame, they don’t hold grudges. And they don’t get all guilty and shitty. It makes things so much easier.

“But it was my fault. I’m the one that got the fireworks.”

That sounds… sort of familiar. Honestly, the last thing York remembers is waiting in North’s car for him to get back with beer. He knows they were going to do something after that with fireworks, their usual Fourth of July shenanigans. Right… and then they were going to the park to see the stuff Tex had got and then… and then… a bright, bright light. And loud. Lots of loud. And pain.

And now he’s here.

“Yeah, but you weren’t the one that… did whatever happened. Uh, you might need to catch me up on that part. Things are kinda fuzzy.”

That doesn’t look like it makes her happy. But she sighs and looks at the wall. “We were setting off fireworks and one of them… I don’t know what happened, it must not have been hammered in right and it just went right at you.”

“Huh. At least it was something cool. ‘How’d you lose your eye?’ Firework to the face,” he says, playing out the conversation with himself, grinning.

Tex doesn’t look amused, and she doesn’t feel amused either when she smacks at his shoulder. “Shut up. You don’t know if you’re gonna lose it.”

Oh… is that a thing he should be worried about? Shit. He had just figured his face got kind of fucked up. Which… sucks. He likes his face. Carolina likes his face. But he’s pretty sure she’s not going to just dump him because he’s got a few new scars. If his eye’s messed up though… that’s going to be an issue.

“It’s still not your fault,” he insists, reaching his hand toward Tex. She eyes it for a moment as he wiggles his fingers at her.

After a few moments, she sighs and takes his hand. “Okay,” she says, very softly. “I still feel like shit.”

“Yeah? Well knock it off. You’re gonna have to be my seeing eye Tex.”

“That’s still not funny.” But she’s grinning a little now as she shakes their joined hands at him. At least she seems a little less sad and quiet and un-Tex like. Good, that’s good. He’d trade his other eye for that. “I guess, if we’re really pointing fingers though… I did tell you stop standing so fucking close.”

York snorts and presses his free hand to his chest. “Wow, okay, I don’t remember, but that doesn’t sound like a thing I would ever do ever, how dare you. Me do something you told me not to? How could you even think of accusing me? That’s just--how dare. I’m so offended.”

She laughs a little and shakes her head as she leans over and rests her forehead against his shoulder. “You’re such a big dummy.”

It’s a little soft and a little sad, so he wraps an arm around her shoulders and gives her a squeeze. The hand that isn’t holding his curls into the hospital gown he’s wearing. She doesn’t say anything for several long moments, the light atmosphere drifting away. York leans his head against hers and sighs.

“I’m okay, y’know? Well… even if I’m not, I will be. I always bounce back, Ally.”

There’s a little groan and she shakes her head, still not lifting it from his shoulder. “God I hate that nickname,” she says, and her voice sounds a little close to tears, so he gives her hand another squeeze. “Why the hell did I ever say you could call me that?”

“Cause you loooooove me,” he sing songs as he kisses the side of her head.

Tex sighs. “Yeah… I do.”

And she says it in that soft, quiet way that makes him bite back any other stupid jokes rolling through his still fuzzy feeling head. He doesn’t know how long they stay like that, but eventually she pulls back. For a split second, York thinks he might see a tear on her face before she turns away and rubs at her face.

“You should call your roommate,” she says, voice carefully casual as she pulls his phone out of her pocket and drops it on him. “He texted a bunch last night and I told him what happened. Sounds like he probably wants to yell at you for it. North does too, by the way. And Wash.”

Groaning, York flops back against his pillows. “Why’d you tell Dee? He’s gonna give me so much shit.”

“Uh yeah, that’s why I did it,” she says, flashing him a toothy grin as she rises from the bed. “Well, I can’t just hang around here all day and you’ve got a lot of yelling coming, so I’m gonna head out. Call me when the doctors tell you what’s up.”

“Okay mom.”

Tex snorts. “Hey, I’m pretty sure I’m nowhere near as mom-ish as the other guys.”

Well… he can’t exactly argue with that, so he just nods as he picks up his phone. Looking at the screen, he winces. Oh boy, twenty-seven missed calls and forty-three text messages. That’s not good.

“Yeah, you should probably get out of here before the screaming starts,” he says, picking a voicemail at random to start with. He winces again when Wash’s screeching punches its way out of the phone.

Snickering, Tex leans over and kisses the top of his head, squeezing his shoulder before heading out of the room.

“Hey?”

York looks up from the laptop. He’s sprawled over Tex’s couch, having spent the last several hours slowly slumping down it until the laptop’s on his chest and his arms are regularly cramping up trying to actually type anything.

There’s a weird look on Tex’s face, her mouth pinched a little to one corner as her hands drum on the back of the couch. “Nah, nevermind.”

Okay, that’s just bizarre. “What’s up? I’m not doing anything.”

For a long moment, Tex just pauses. Then she huffs and jumps over the back of the couch, shoving York’s legs off to make room for herself. He sits up and sets the laptop on the coffee table. Tex pulls a small box out of her pocket and flips the lid open. Inside is a silver ring, almost plain except for the very faint blue inlay. It’s gorgeous.

“What do you think of this?” She’s not looking at him.

“Tex, I’m flattered, but you know gold is more my color.”

“Oh fuck off.” She shoves at him, but he’s pretty sure he hears a faint laugh in her voice. 

He lets out a mock gasp of surprise. “I thought what we had was special.”

“Can you be serious for like five seconds?”

York shakes his head. “Sorry, I’m pretty sure that’s not physically possible for me. I had all my serious surgically removed and implanted into Delta.”

She lightly shoves him again, but makes no move to scoot away when he shifts back closer and stretches an arm along the back of the couch. “But it’s not too much, right? Some guys get all weird about jewelry and shit.”

“It’s perfect, Tex, but this is Church we’re talking about--you did get that for him, right? There’s no mystery dude you’re not telling me about?”

Tex rolls her eyes and lets out a huff. “Yes, it’s for Church, dumbass.”

“Right, yeah, like I was saying, I’m pretty sure he’d take a rubber band with a paperclip stuck to it if it came from you.”

“Yeah, probably.” There’s something fond in her eyes, as she looks at the ring, and something a little worryingly sad. Okay, maybe not the best thing to say, time to backtrack.

“So is this just… a present or?”

She looks at him like he’s one of the biggest idiots on the planet. Which is probably fair. Fancy ring in a little black, velvet lined box usually only means one thing.

“I’m asking him on Friday,” she says, a slightly forced certainty to her voice. “I figure… we’ve been together long enough, I should probably just do it.”

York frowns, one eyebrow rising. “Really?”

Tex lets out a huff and drags a hand through her hair. “Sort of? Not really. I know he wants to get married, but he’s too chicken shit to ask me, so I’ve gotta be the one to do it.”

“But do you want this?” He shifts a little on the couch, turning to face her more. Honestly, York doesn’t know all the details of the ups and downs with Tex and Church and… he doesn’t want to. Some things are tmi even for him.

For a long moment, Tex says nothing, then she very slowly nods. “I… I don’t know. I think I do? It’s weird, y’know? I never figured I’d want to settle down and all that boring bullshit, but… things have been good lately. Like really good. I know I used to mess around and stuff, but the last few years… I haven’t wanted to. Things are good with Church.”

“Have you two talked about this at all?” His hand drops onto her shoulder, thumb gently rubbing the back of her neck.

“A little, yeah. We already live together, and I mean… we’re basically already there, just not officially.”

“And… no one else is trying to talk you into this?” He doesn’t want to drop a name, but he can tell from the look on her face she knows exactly who he means.

There’s no hiding the disgust as she shakes her head. “No, he’s got nothing to do with it. Fuck, if we’re doing this, there’s no way in hell he’s invited. It’s bad enough he still sends me birthday cards,” she says, shuddering a little.

York’s arm goes around her shoulders and she moves to lean into his side. “So… you really want this? With Church?”

“Yeah… I really do. He’s an idiot sometimes, but he’s my idiot.” There’s a sweet smile on Tex’s face, her eyes on that little box. York has to look away for a second, almost feeling like he’s intruding on something here.

He lets her have her little moment before he gives her shoulder a squeeze. “Well good. I think you’re good for each other, y’know? And North owes me twenty bucks--he was so sure Wash and that Tucker guy would tie the knot first.”

Tex cocks an eyebrow at him. “Half of that twenty better be mine. You assholes need to stop betting on this shit.”

“Let us have our fun, Tex, I need something to live for,” he says, halfway toward pulling out his phone. “Am I allowed to brag yet or do I have to wait till you pop the question?”

“You should probably wait, I don’t even know if he’ll say yes.” She shrugs and tucks the ring away as York scoffs.

“We’re talking about the same Church, right? I’m pretty sure he would’ve said yes if you proposed two days after you met the guy. Don’t worry about it. So, am I the best man or what?” He gives her a little shake, smile obviously teasing to lighten the mood.

Snorting, she lightly shoves at his chest. “The groom picks the best man, dumbass. But… I was gonna ask you to be the maid of honor, or whatever.”

He taps his chin. “Do I have to wear a dress? And follow up question, can I pick it myself? Cause Vanessa has this collection of ugly bridesmaid dresses and I’m telling you right now, I love you, but you can’t do that to me. I need something that makes my eyes pop. Well, eye--you get what I mean.”

“You can wear whatever the hell Donut picks out for you. He’s got final say on all that shit, or he will once I start telling people. I figure if I don’t let him plan things, he’s going to start showing up at the foot of my bed at night and anyone else who tries to make a seating chart is gonna have a mysterious accident.”

York’s brow furrows for a second. “Donut… he’s the guy at the diner that wears all the light red stuff, right? The one who hooked up with North and redecorated his place?”

“That’s him,” she says, snorting as she nods. “He’s got all these binders about party planning, and he’s been making comments about wedding stuff ever since Church moved in here.”

He nods, and then something occurs to him. “Wait… am I the first person you’re telling?”

“Uh yeah, of course you are, genius.” Tex looks at him like he just said something amazingly stupid. Which is fair, he does that from time to time.

But right now, he can’t even be a little annoyed by that. It’s so simple, such a small thing, but she told him first. Of course she told him first. He knows he’s got a big stupid grin on his face as he reaches out and pulls her into a hug.

Tex lets out a squawk of surprise, but she doesn’t protest, wrapping an arm around him. “What’s this about?”

“Nothing. Just felt like it. Now less talking, more hugging.”

York can practically hear her roll her eyes, but she doesn’t try to squirm free. “Okay weirdo.”

The hug lasts for a few more long moments before he pulls back and starts making plans for his speech at the reception. They stay up till two making plans and laughing at each other until Tex is yawning and leaning heavily against his shoulder.

“You really think he’s gonna say yes?” Her voice is low, a tiny, tiny hint of doubt there. It doesn’t sound right.

“One hundred percent. But y’know… even if he doesn’t, it’s gonna be okay. And you know why?”

She sighs and he doesn’t have to look at her to know she’s rolling her eyes. “Cause I’ve got you?”

“Cause you’ve got me,” he agrees, nodding. He expects a biting comeback or a joke, but he just feels her nod against his shoulder.

“Yeah… I do.”

“Damn right you do. So… how do you feel about me playing Wonderwall as you walk down the aisle?”

“Hmm, I feel like I take back every nice thing I ever said about you.”

“C’mon, it’s a classic.”

“Maybe in your dreams,” she says. Sitting up, she stretches and yawns. “As fun as your bad ideas are, I think I’m going to bed before you come up with something even worse.”

“Just think about it.” He tips his head to grin at her as she walks around the couch and heads for her room.

“Yeah, no. Goodnight asshole.”

“Goodnight Ally.”

The door to her room shuts behind her and York stretches out on the couch, a smile on his face. He pulls his laptop back onto his chest and starts writing his speech.

It all started on a playground...