#some soap opera and i would only half listen and it would be okay

[girlivealwaysbean]

man

[clairedaring]

if you're hoping for joe 2.0 to get his 'revenge' in the second half of the series...

warning: mild novel spoilers (but also not really because i'm just discussing things that have been shown in the trailer)

i really think you should either drop the series or give up the hopes of a satisfying makjang revenge storyline in my stand-in instead of setting yourself up for disappointment. because that simply isn't the story that my stand-in is trying to tell.

so what is my stand-in about really?

well, for me i think its a romance tragicomedy drama about an idiotic scum male lead losing the person he loves most because of his own arrogance and refusal to listen to his heart and the series of unfortunate events that happened consequently for our protagonist who was living a peaceful and quiet life as a stunt actor before the scum male lead entered his life.

joe 2.0 and his approach to life

i've mentioned it twice now that one of my favorite traits of joe/zhou xiang is that kindness in his strength where even if he can be choose to be mean or cruel, he simply doesn't because he has such a soft heart and he's weak to see others in pain (joe is my fellow enfp people pleaser okay) (⁠っ⁠˘̩⁠╭⁠╮⁠˘̩⁠)⁠っ which is why even in his 2.0 life, you won't get to see joe turning 180 degree and going around to hurt everyone who's ever hurt him like it's some makjang kdrama.

and while that seems like it could be fun, i think the reason why i loved professional body double (my stand-in novel) so much in the first place is because that very distinction between joe and other rebirth/second chance at life protagonists that you often see in revenge kdramas/cdramas/thai lakorns.

logically, if my stand-in was a 24-episode one31 lakorn/thai soap opera, joe would be full of hatred and burning rage after his rebirth and started his intricated revenge plot while still falling in love with ming whom he should hate the most.

and yet he isn't (or at least it seems to me so far).

if you read the lyrics 'Die For You' - the opening ost of my stand-in, i think you can have a good guess of what the second half of the story will be like.

Even running away to death can't help. If my heart had chosen to stop at you I'll have to surrender with the confusion I feel. To come back to the same old place. Even if I have to die, disappear and then be reborn But the love is still buried deep inside, even if it's been shattered into pieces Even if my life ends, I can't stop my heart from calling out to you Because this whole body, life, spirit It is yours only, for all eternity.

and even from the trailer of my stand-in, you can tell that joe 2.0 has a lot of internal conflicting feelings about whether he could trust ming again after the betrayal he faced in his 1.0 life. and i feel like essentially the journey of ming proving to joe 2.0 that he really does love joe is very much the central plot in the second half part of the story.

so i'd like to take this part to note how well the series has done to adapt the novel so far. i think a good adapted change they've made is this early realization of feelings for ming in the joe 1.0 timeline. i do think the novel made him realized his feelings a little bit later but my stand-in did well to show within ep.3 what happiness could have looked like for joe 1.0 and ming and i think it rationalizes a bit more more for why joe 2.0 would still have feelings for ming 'buried deep inside' even when he's been badly hurt the first time around. and reading the story i've always found it interesting that they took this route to focus on the re-entangled complex relationship between mingjoe rather than going for a joe-centric revenge makjang plot (i swear if this was your typical thai lakorn, joe would seduce ming while planning to take down his whole family or something).

of course, that's not to dismiss that there's a lot of character growth for joe in the second half of the story, especially in his building of self-confidence, self-worth, the ability to put himself first and the fight for his own happiness above all. but like i've mentioned above, his growth journey is not at the expense of a drastic personality change in regards to the kind hearted joe we saw in his 1.0 life. instead, we get kind hearted joe 2.0 who quickly adapts to his new life and attempts to start anew while conflicted feelings resurface for him as he is pulled back into the relationships he once had.

all in all, my stand-in is still at the heart of it, a love story. perhaps, a dark romance as my friend @dragonsandphoenix would call it, but a romance nonetheless. i think that is what also makes professional body double such a compelling read too, because the progression in the feelings and complex emotions of these characters are so tightly written that it's convincing enough for me (maybe not for others though) to believe that yan ming xiu has/will always love zhou xiang (to the point ymx would probably eliminate anyone else who dared to steal zx from him). obsessive love? yes. do they both need therapy? probably. yet i still believe in their happy ending? of course.

final note/disclaimer: then again, this is just my PERSONAL opinions based on the novel and up til 3 episodes of my stand-in (which seems to be very faithful to the novel so far), who knows maybe they can anger novel fans and adapt it completely differently later on (something i sure hope they don't but we'll seeeee) ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ

[wooahaeruby]

Chapter 33: Sparks

Chapter Word Count: 4,270

TW

None, it's cute.

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“You called?” Sitting at your desk, you were packing up your bag for the day. “Twice might I add.” 

“What are you doing?” Seungcheol asked. “Wait, I mean, hi…How are you? What are you doing?” 

You laughed as you turned the computer off and made your way to the door. “I’m doing okay today, thank you for asking. Currently, I’m about to leave the office, do you need something?” 

“Can I pick you up from your place at seven?”

“I don’t see why not, do I need to dress up or can I change into something comfy?” Waving goodbye to your coworkers, you stood in the elevator, heading down to the parking garage. 

“ Oh, fuck- Um.” You heard him fumble with his phone before he cleared his throat. “ Can you dress up a little, but you don't have to be over the top?”

“I can, I’ll see you at seven.” 

“ Cool, I’ll- uh- I’ll see you then.” 

Hanging up, you chuckled to yourself, seeing Seokmin getting into his own car when you made it to yours. 

“Plans for the night?” He asked, leaning over his car hood. 

“Got a date tonight.” Dropping your bags into the passenger seat, you could see him smirk. 

“Is it with-?” 

“Yep. Just called me before I came down.” 

“Have fun then.” He laughed, moving towards the driver’s door. “Oh, Hao wants to talk with you, give him a call or something.” 

“Ay ay, captain.” You gave him a salute before getting in your car and driving off towards your apartment. 

It would be the first night in a week that someone wasn’t in bed with you to sleep. Wonwoo had come over the other night before Jeonghan showed up, wanting to install panic buttons around the apartments, more as a precaution, hoping you wouldn’t actually need to use them. One was placed on your nightstand, facing your bed where you could reach it easily, another was placed under the counter of your computer desk, and the last was in the kitchen, on the underside of a hanging cabinet. 

Kicking your shoes off, you glanced around the dark living room, staying silently to listen for any changes but nothing peaked so you turned on the lights and continued inside. Glancing down at your watch, you had just over an hour and a half to throw on a nicer outfit and some makeup before Seungcheol showed up, enough time to even do your hair a little. 

With Dreamcatcher helping with your closet clean up, there were some…new clothes you noticed through the week; new business outfits, new…shorter skirts, and some different blouses. There were boxes of new shoes in your size stacked in the corner of your closet as well. 

Then…Then you kinda had an idea and you knew you had to roll with it. 

You pulled items from your closet, a little smirk spreading on your lips.

“So, Seokmin said you asked my girlfriend on a date.” Jeonghan snickered over the phone. 

Seungcheol sighed. 

Of course Seokmin told Jeonghan, he thought.

“I am…Is that a problem?” 

“Where are you taking Mouse?” 

“I…heard her saying to Mingyu that she was craving sushi…so…” He rubbed the back of his neck, going into his shared closet in the penthouse, grabbing a pair of slacks and a loose fitting button up. 

“You are a fucking sap, I love this so much.” Jeonghan laughed, which only made him sigh and groan. “ If we weren’t crimelords, I’d put our lives in a soap opera.” 

“I’m hanging up now, I need to shower and get dressed.” 

“Wah~ You’re no fun. I’ll just get all the details from my girlfriend later, loser.” 

“Whatever.” Seungcheol hung up before Jeonghan could get another word in and jumped into getting himself ready. 

As he stepped out into the living room, checking his pockets for his phone, wallet and keys, Jihoon stepped through the door, backpack thrown over his shoulder, dressed in his gym ware. 

“Where are you going?” Jihoon asked, kicking off his shoes. 

Seungcheol huffed, “I’m going out…” 

Jihoon paused, looking at him up and down. “...With Mouse.”

“I hate all of you.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, “But if you have to know, yes, I am going out with her.” 

“Cool.” Was all he said, strolling down the hall before coming back. “Soonyoung, Wonwoo, Mingyu, and I are going to the fight club tonight. Jeonghan is running a free-for-all for anyone who wants to fight.”

“Yeah, count me out. Don’t get your asskicked and make a joke out of us.” Slipping on his shoes and grabbing a jacket, he headed out and down in the garage. 

Okay – if Seungcheol was being honest, he was praying he wouldn’t fuck up tonight and it would be a step in the right direction. He had been texting her regularly throughout the week, but tonight was the only night he had free time to actually put some action into place. Jeonghan’s little fight club also got some of the guys out of her hair while the youngest three were running Ruby for the night. Minghao and Junhui were out of town on a job and wouldn’t be back until the following night. 

Pulling up to Mouse’s apartment, he parked in one of the visitor spots and made his way towards the garage door entrance. One glance at the watch on his wrist showed he was a few minutes early, but he didn’t bother to worry, stopping at the newly installed security panel and typed in her apartment number. Once the panel buzzed and the door unlocked, he wasted little time getting to the elevator and getting to her door. A simple knock had him hearing her call out for him to wait a minute.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Seungcheol waited, biting at the skin of his lips, even rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. He looked down at his feet, raising his head almost instantly when he heard the lock click and the door open. 

And he blinked, once, twice, and he damn near wanted to pass the fuck out .

Mouse stood before him dressed in a bishop sleeved, scoop necked red blouse and a short black skirt and tights. She lifted her foot and fiddled with the strap of her chunky heels, hand placed against the door frame. Grabbing her jacket, she slipped it on, a smile spreading on her red colored lips. 

She is gonna kill me , was all he managed to think, eyes wide as he took in her beauty. I might die . 

“Hi, hey.” Mouse pulled her purse off the console table beside her door, pushing her hair behind her back. 

“Hey.” Seungcheol cleared his throat, sliding his hands from his pockets and holding one out for her to take. “Ready?” 

She was quick to close and lock the door before taking his hand, letting him lead her down the hall and into the elevator. 

“So, where are we going?” She nudged him with her elbow, keeping their hands clasped together. 

He snickered, shaking his head. “I’m not telling you that, you can find out when we get there.” 

“Hmm, boo.” Mouse rolled her eyes but continued to smile. “I heard the guys are busy tonight?” 

“Yeah, Han is having a free-for-all . Kwan and the other two are running Ruby, but I think Vernon and Chan are going to watch the free for all since Kwan owes them a favor. Busy night.” 

“And you just happened to be free?” As the elevator doors opened, she eyed him curiously, a playful tilt to her head. 

“It’s my first night off in a while.” He admitted, shoulders dropping. “Thought I’d spend it right.” 

Mouse hummed, seemingly satisfied with the answer he gave. She gently swung their hands as he led her to his car, unable to stop himself from chuckling softly.

The drive to the sushi place he had picked was calm. Seungcheol was content answering Mouse when she asked how the days had been, able to express more of the nitty gritty of the group while in the car. 

He had also taken her words two weeks ago into some consideration recently as well. Or well…He had done a lot of thinking since the night Mouse and him talked. If she was going to be here, sitting beside them at least somewhat at their metaphorical table, the least he could do was be honest. And he was a little terrified she’d actually put more effort into hitting him if they fought again. She had done great work training with Chan, but with Minghao and Junhui soon? He’d need a bulletproof vest twenty-four seven. 

She was laughing as he parked, stomping her feet some. “How do you fuck up that bad?!” 

“I’m telling you, Mouse…I don’t even know at this point. Sometimes Mingyu is just too big for his own damn good and he broke the box of the ammo shipment, the actual box… Jihoon was going to kill him…”

“It was a crate! I can’t believe he managed to do that!” 

He simply gave a laugh before exiting the car, quickly rounding his vehicle to help her out. She took his hand the moment it was offered and stood, smiling up at him bright and wide. 

“Shall we?” He closed the door for her, clicking the lock on his key easily. 

“I think we shall, Seungcheol.” 

The place was relatively fancy, many different groups of people and couples littering the fully booked restaurant. Seungcheol had taken it upon himself to pull your chair out and push it in for you before taking his own seat, shedding his jacket. 

“So…” You snickered, picking up the menu placed on the table. “Who told you I was craving sushi?”

Reaching up, he rubbed the back of his neck, sending her a gummy, shy smile. “I…might have heard you talking with Mingyu the other day when he had you on speaker.” 

Looking past the menu, you eyed him for a moment, your lips twisting into a small smirk. “And here I thought you could read my mind.” 

Seungcheol scoffed and he laughed, shaking his head, jostling the relatively unstyled hair on his head. “I wish it was that easy.” 

“Is your hair naturally that wavy?” The question had him running a hand through his locks, brushing them back from his face before shaking his head to let it fall naturally. 

“I mean…Kinda? If I really let it grow out, it gets a little poofy since I don’t really do anything with it. That's why I usually keep it short. I kinda need a haircut soon since it’s been a while.”

“It looks good.” You complimented and you watched him swallow, eyes big, childlike. “I like it.”

“I- Thanks..” Despite the restaurant's dim lighting, you couldn’t miss the reddening of his cheeks. “Let’s- What looks good to you?” 

He dropped his gaze, lifting the menu to hide from you, eyes scanning over the items listed. 

It was cute, seeing him flustered over a simple compliment. You smiled to yourself, scanning over the plethora of options, debating what you wanted. 

The waiter that came to serve you was sweet, a nice young man that looked absolutely nervous, probably one of his first days. He filled the empty glasses before the two of you with water. With a glance between the waiter and Seungcheol, it was almost silently decided that you’d share whatever was ordered, not that it wasn’t expected after the last sushi ‘date’ the two of you had. 

“I’ll get right on that.” The young man hurried off, leaving you with a smile and a shake of your head. 

“I remember when I waited tables in college for a little while.” 

“I can’t even imagine you doing that.” He furrowed his brows together but he laughed, lifting the glass of water to his lips. “Why did you stop?” 

“Because some drunk guy slapped my ass and I punched him in the face.” 

Seungcheol choked on his water, picking up the fabric napkin to cover his mouth as you laughed, trying to keep yourself from losing it. 

“You punched him? So you’ve been doing reckless shit all your life?” He cleared his throat. 

“You really should hear about all the trouble I got Jongho and I into when we were together for two years.” 

“Mouse, I have all night. I’m all ears.”

“You…set off a bottle rocket…into your foster dad’s car exhaust pipe.” Half his mouth was filled with food, pointing his chopsticks at you with a frown on his face. 

“Yeah. He deserved it for beating Jongho.” You don’t see the problem now, just like you didn’t see the problem back then. “For no reason, mind you. Not only were these assholes just taking the government checks, but they worked him and I to the bone with chores, and we got punished if we didn’t. He was told to hand wash all the dishes with a toothbrush because he didn’t sweep the floor since he was finishing his homework.” 

“That’s…what the fuck?” He was taken back, eyes shifting from you to stare down at the platter of sushi between you both. 

“One time, that foster mom locked me out of the house because I was a minute late back  after a school event. She didn’t let me in for two days and Jongho had to sneak me stuff.”

“What-” 

“Yep.” You snickered, grabbing a piece of food. “Then I got Jongho and I out of there. Apparently insulting them was the tipping point. Fucking pricks.” 

“Man, and I thought I had a fucked up childhood.” Seungcheol managed to laugh and you nodded. 

“I’ve…heard a little from Hannie about what happened to the three of you.” 

His eyes were searching for something in the sushi, gaze flitting around with no set destination. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it, leaving you to continue. 

“I want to believe that you and I, and the rest of the guys have done well despite the adversity.” Nonchalantly, you picked up a piece of sushi and popped it in your mouth. “I mean look at you, big business, kicking ass and all. And me, the not so damsel in distress that has fought a few people for the hell of it.” 

That managed to get Seungcheol to chuckle under his breath, a sigh leaving his chest but a smile was present once he lifted his head. 

“And while on the topic, why can parents fucking suck sometimes?” You rolled your eyes, sitting back in your seat, seeing the smile on his lips widen. “But in general people can suck. This is why before all of you I was a homebody. Video games can’t hurt me physically, just emotionally.” 

“Oh my god, shut up.” He laughed brightly, dropping his chopsticks and covering his face in some embarrassment, not sure if it was for you or him. 

“Hey! Whoa!” You kept your dramatic gasp quiet to not draw much attention to your table. “How dare you tell your date to shut up. Here I thought I was out with a nice gentleman that wanted to make me swoon and now he is telling me to shut it. Some men…” 

“Mouse.” Dropping his hands, Seungcheol whined, a pained smile on his lips as he gazed across to you.

You leveled him with a playful look, unable to stop yourself from laughing. “Yes?” 

He held you in a soft gaze, letting his eyes roam over your features before he shook his head, dropping his eyes and picking up his chopsticks once more. “Nothing…Nothing at all.” 

“Good,” You smirked, “Kinda looked like you were attracted to me for a minute there.” 

Seungcheol sputtered out a laugh, covering his mouth so as to not choke on the piece of food he shoved into his mouth. “Oh no, totally not, you’re kinda weird if you ask me.”

“Some say I’m mysterious, but I can also accept being weird in this situation.” Nodding your head, you gave him a thumbs up. “Just don’t let my friends hear you say that. They can be a little overprotective if you ask me.” 

“Hm, I wouldn’t have thought.” 

Between the two of you, a quiet calm settled, letting you eat, taking in the ambiance and the chatter around your table. There was comfort in the quiet, the promise held close to your heart that he wasn’t going to do anything stupid anymore, and hoped that all would fall into place. 

He wasn’t like Jeonghan who loved to talk about everything and anything. He wasn’t Joshua who could make you laugh loudly at the smallest things. He was Seungcheol, a strong leader with a shell that seemed a little hard to break. He was a big softy that was goofy and now wanted to play video games every time he caught you sneaking off with Wonwoo to Pandora. 

He was becoming himself more and more than you already saw and you really liked it…

It wasn’t too long before the platters were finished and the waiter was asking if there was anything else either of you would like for the evening. Seungcheol peered at you, raising a brow but you simply shook your head, leaving your companion to ask for the check. 

You observed Seungcheol now, watching as he grabbed his wallet, sitting comfortably as he drummed his fingers on the table. When he noticed your gaze, he tilted his head, one corner of his mouth raising in a half smile, leaving you mesmerized by how handsome he looked. Part of you prayed he didn’t cut his hair, but it wouldn’t matter over all, he was striking with or without it this length. 

He was quick to pay the check when it was placed down, not even bothering to look at the amount as he slid his card over. He signed quickly before getting up, moving towards you to take your jacket, holding it up for you to slip on once you stood. Once he was comfortable with you bundled up, moving some hair from off your shoulder, he got his on, holding out his hand. 

“Can I convince you to go on a walk then maybe….get just some ice cream?” 

Your heart clenched in your chest, but you placed your hand in his, lacing your fingers together with a nod. “I’d love to, Seungcheol.”

Hand in hand, the two of you left the restaurant, leaving his car behind in the parking lot to return later. The air was frigid but the heat Cheol radiated as you stood close was enough to keep you comfortable. You were lucky you went with thicker tights to keep your legs warm in the short skirt. More or less you let him lead the way, a shy grin spreading on your lips as he swung your clasped hands.

A glance over showed a wide smile, his eyes flicking from you to the path, keeping you close. There was nothing needing to be said, knowing he was happy, probably way more than you were, but you were happy nonetheless. The ice cream place he ended up leading you to wasn’t far, a small hole in the wall shop with two little tables and a singular worker behind the counter. With the change coming into winter sooner rather than later, not many were going out to get ice cream. 

The bell over the door announced your arrival, a loud chime sending the worker to her feet, greeting you. You returned the greeting, approaching the glass to peer at the many options of sugary treats. 

“What do you want?” You looked at Seungcheol, curious as he didn’t even look at the different flavors. “Do you already know?”

“Yeah, I get the cherry-vanilla swirl.” He was serious, lips pursed before he gave a firm nod. When he gazed at you, the purse turned into a childish smile. 

“You know what, can we share?”

A chuckle rumbled deep in his chest, nodding his head once more. “Yeah, we definitely can, Mouse.”

“You are a fucking idiot.” Jeonghan laughed under his breath, removing the gauze from Soonyoung’s forehead, hoping it stopped the bleeding from the cut near his hairline.

“Don’t call him that, at least he won.” Mingyu snickered, grabbing more gauze and holding them to Jihoon��s nose, definitely broke even if it’s just a slightest bit.

“So…should I call Cheol?” Chan asked, raising his hand, sitting on the bleacher-like stands beside Vernon. 

“Do not-” Joshua shook his head, only for Jeonghan to send him a look. “Come on, they are fine.” 

“Soonyoung definitely has a concussion and Jihoon’s nose is broken. He’ll be pissed coming home to this.” Jeonghan sighed, nodding his head to Chan. “Give him a call.” 

Chan was already dialing the number before he finished the sentence, leaning his head back. 

“Hey- yeah everything went fine, but…” Chan groaned. “Yeah, I know you are out on your little date, but Jeonghan told me to call you because- It was Soonyoung and Jihoon…Yeah, but one has a concussion and the other has a broken nose…Mouse- Give the phone back to Cheol- Oh my god- Okay, I’ll see you in a bit.” 

Chan looked around once the line went dead, flattening his mouth into a straight line. “So uh, they are coming.” 

“And now we will feel the wrath of both Mouse and Seungcheol.” Wonwoo huffed, holding an ice pack to his eye. 

They showed up faster than anyone really anticipated. Jeonghan thought they had more time to clean up some blood and patch up Soonyoung and Jihoon. 

Mouse bursted through the door first, one hand holding the skirt as she hurried over, nearly skidding to a stop before Soonyoung. 

“Mouse!” Soonyoung was dazed, flinching at how loud he was, reactions a little slow and eyes out of focus. “Hi.” 

She sighed, taking his face gently into her hands, brows furrowed in sympathy. “Hi, Soon…” 

“You…” He shook his head, taking a deep breath through his nose, a pout forming on his lips. “You look really pretty.” 

“Thank you, how’s your head?” 

“The room is…a little sideways and I’m tired.” 

“You can’t sleep until we get back.” Jeonghan huffed out a sigh, wiping his hands with an alcohol wipe, making sure there was no blood. 

Mouse placed a gentle kiss to the top of Soonyoung’s head before she moved over to Jihoon, shoulders deflating at the already bruising area surrounding his nose and under eyes despite the ice pack.

“You both look like shit.” Seungcheol stepped in, hands in his jacket pockets, stopping not that far from Mingyu who was packing up the first aid kits. 

“Be nice.” Mouse warned and he huffed. She reached out, lifted the ice pack some, and glanced beneath it. Jihoon flinched but overall did nothing. “Damn, is there anything else broken?” 

“Beside the nose, no, but I’ll be sore as fuck tomorrow.” 

“Ah, nothing a little ice and some rest can’t fix, I can make the chicken bake you and Soonyoung like.”

Chan nudged Vernon with his elbow, snickering. “We should get beat up more so Mouse can take care of us.”

Whipping her head around, she sent him a glare. “Don’t you dare.” 

“Your skirt is short.” Joshua commented, grabbing his longer coat and handing it to her. “Put this on.” 

“Ah~ She is fine~” Jeonghan snickered, wrapping an arm around her waist, placing a kiss to her cheek, eyeing Seungcheol. “Sorry for ruining your night~” 

Seungcheol rolled his eyes, moving towards Jihoon to look at the injuries to his face, then to Soonyoung who gave a tired smile, and lastly to Wonwoo. “Can you at least tell me if all of you won your stupid ass fights?” 

“I almost got pinched in the last round but the dude broke my nose and I got pissed so I dropped him.” 

“Gotta stop toying with him.” Mingyu hummed, giving Jihoon a gentle pat to the back. “Soonyoung did great until the guy slammed him into the floor. He managed to get him in an armbar before his opponent tapped out.” 

“What about you?” Seungcheol looked to Wonwoo once more, raising a brow. 

Removing the ice pack, Wonwoo’s eye was a little swollen, definitely going to be bruised more the next day. He couldn’t help the smirk spreading on his lips before talking again. “Cocky asshole that swung before the bell and I dropped him in under a minute.” 

“Good.” Seungcheol broke into a smile, shaking his head. “Alright, load up, come on. We should get them home before they can barely move tomorrow.” 

“Can someone drop me home and I can grab my car?” Mouse leaned against Jeonghan, her head resting comfortably on his shoulder. Joshua’s jacket was folded in her arms, at least covering some of the front of her legs. 

Jeonghan scoffed, the hand he had on her waist tightening some. “Why the hell would we if you can just ride with one of us?”

“Ew, fuck off, no flirting in front of everyone. My poor eyes.” Chan gagged, covering his eyes dramatically with both hands. “They are burning out of my skull.” 

“It’s watching your best friend get with your brother.” Seokmin gagged as well, bringing his hands to his throat to choke himself. “End me.” 

“We could make this so much worse.” Mouse lifted her head, looking up to him with a smirk wide on her face. 

“Do not!” The choirs rang through the warehouse before a following rumble of laughter layered together.

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[the-deadrobin]

Jason 'died-before-advanced-internet' Todd. He's definitely not at all good with technology as a whole. He's more equivalent to a very old man.

Babs: *appearing on Jason's phone by hacking into it* Sorry Jason, I had to intercept your phone to pass this message.

Jason: *whispers* whaaa??... ahem nah- no, its fine.

Babs:...

Jason:...

Jason: So how... is that even possible?

- 2 DAYS LATER -

Tim: *does the same thing*

Jason: Nope- nope. This. *waves hand at Tim on his phone* Witchcraft.

Tim: *half asleep watching Jason being a dramatic bitch on the huge batcomputer screen* What.

Jason: WITCHCRAFT THATS WHAT.

-

Jason: Hey Timmers!

Tim: What's up?

Jason: So uh... I got a laptop problem.

Tim: Oh no.

Steph: *from across the room* not again.

Cass: *chilling on the couch* *silently leaves*

Bruce: *also on couch*

Also Bruce: *pulls out phone and puts it to his ear despite no ringtone* oh- yeah? Huh? What's that? Urgent meeting? *leaves hurriedly*

Duke: *Just entering the room*

*hears Jason*

Also Duke: *does complete 180*

Jason: *oblivious* I don't know what's wrong Timmy, it's not turning on.

Damian: *Sitting on the floor with Alfred the cat, the only one still in the room besides Jason and Tim* Have you tried the power button.

Jason: I'm offended.

Tim: Jason. Try the power button.

Jason: *stares into Tim's eyes as he turns it on* *waits* HA! IT DIDN'T WORK!

Tim: Jason- you're supposed to want it to work!

Jason: Dami, Tim is useless. Help me out here.

Damian: Akhi, I'm 11. Have some dignity.

Jason: Yeah, that died with me in the warehouse.

Tim: Okay, did you drop it in water?

Jason: The dignity is dead, not my fucking brain Tim- Why would I drop it in water?? You're supposed to be the smart one.

Tim: *mutters* I think the brains dead too.

Jason: WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?

Tim: My god- okay listen...

- 2 HOURS OF INTENSE ARGUING LATER -

Tim: No- Don't shake it like that-

Jason: Any better ideas???

Tim: YES!

Jason: LIKE WHAT??

Tim: NOT SHAKING IT???

- ANOTHER HOUR LATER -

Jason: ...You're such a smartass and you can't even fix this damn thing!

Damian: *calmly* akhi-

Tim: WHY DONT YOU JUST BUY A NEW ONE INSTEAD OF USING A LAPTOP AS OLD AS DAMIAN?

Damian: *sighs* akhi.

Jason: Oh, I'm sorry I'm not rich like you! And it's not as old as Damian, it's a year younger!

Damian: Akhi!

Jason & Tim: WHAT??

Damian: *points to charger, not properly plugged in*

Tim:...

Jason:...

Tim: Jason.

Jason: Just- don't.

Tim: *deep breath* Jason. Did you plug-

Jason: APPARENTLY NOT TIM! BUT HEY WE KNOW THE PROBLEM NOW!

Tim: IT WAS NEVER A PROBLEM- IT JUST DIDN'T HAVE BATTERY!

Jason: I'M SORRY I DIED BEFORE COMPUTERS LIKE THIS-

Tim: OHMYGOD YOU KEEP BRINGING THAT UP-

- CONTINUES TO ARGUE -

Babs: *was silently listening through security feeds and knew the whole time*

Babs: *twitching with frustration* It's like watching one of Dick's soap operas.

But also, it's just Jason sometimes partly messing with them and they know it. Then sometimes he isn't messing with them. That's where the problem is because Jason is so good at lying (and being a menace to society), they can't tell the difference.

Got a bit carried away there💀💀

[pinazee]

Lights camera homicidio

Hola! Me llamo pinazee! Me gusta queso!

Okay im just going to be honest here, when i first watched this (being part latina myself) it made me feel a lil’ icky because it was a knee jerk reaction of it feeling like a white guy doing a bad impression of a mexican; but once i learned James is half and that his dad enjoyed hearing him speak spanish on his show im perfectly fine enjoying all the over the top spanish bits. And listen, i understand that james wasn’t doing an impression of a mexican and it was really more an impression of the soap opera acting, it still felt like a degree of the culture was at play too. But again, its totally fine, and honestly even if he was a full blooded german i probably would have given it a pass, simply for the reasons stated above.

Anyways, I, surprisingly, don’t have a whole lotta notes for this one. So this might just be a set of gifs ;) i mean, look how much fun he’s having!

I love that rothstein and Jorge were almost instantly bff’s with shawn, to the point that the show called it out- which was great! He has this infectious quality of bringing people into his world and making them feel valued and listened to. The more i watch this show, the more im grateful that Shawn was the subversion of the “genius”trope we had at the time in the sense that he was actually great with people. Mid 00’s you had the mentalist (prick), house (prick), sherlock (prick), monk (awkward), charlie (awkward, p.s adorable), uh that lie to me guy (prick)- you get the gist. Shawns a lovable guy. I dare anyone to say otherwise.

Hahahhahaha get it? His sister is ugly! She looks like a guy! Hahahahahha -_-

*sigh* Look how deflated shawn gets because he’s so used to the criticisms at this point. Ugh, henry is really pissing me off this time around. But, i will say, this does add a little bit more to henry as a character. Like the whole bubble bath and tanning thing, we see henry is not the stereotypical manly man but instead feels he has to hide this more feminine side of himself, enough to the point that Shawn doesn’t really know the real him. Henry’s imposed this image of what he thinks a man should be while secretly hiding he doesn’t live up to that ideal himself. Henry’s a really guarded individual and i can’t help but wonder if there is a trauma there that built that wall, or if it was simply how it was growing up in his time. Idk, maybe a little of both. But, again, i don’t think it was ever really explored which is a shame. I would have liked to see henrys origin story. Could you imagine movie 4 opens with kid Henry and papa Spencer? That could be cool :)

The juliet B story- im so confused by what they were trying to say. It was naive of juliet to try to make friends? She shouldn’t come on too strong? Chief Vick is the only friend she needs?? I like the scene she has with the chief, and i honestly don’t even mind that lady being an asshole (cause feminism). I’m just confused by the plot really. I wish they would’ve given us some hope that she could’ve made a friend in the department. Like a passing lady says hi to her, and juliet smiles. Or had karen give her advice that was more than “be careful, these women are guarded.”

That scene juliet had with her did break my heart a little at this part. Juliet needs a friend okay.

Also, i think Ms. pascoretti thought juliet was hittting on her and thats why she filed a complaint, so she’s just a homophobic asshole who should be fired, and im going to assume she was as we never see her again so good riddance.

P.S TOO HARD!

[krenenbaker]

Diasomnia Character Songs and Associations

It's finally here! The end of the character songs and associations series! It took a bit longer to get out than I thought it would, but it's now finished.

Here is the seventh dorm, Diasomnia; the dorm of the spirit of nobility. The final of the seven, but also, interestingly, the dorm that started this entire idea.

Notes: Every song is from my liked songs playlist (so feel free to judge me for my taste, haha!) and I only allowed myself to use an artist once for this project. There is also some strong language and mature themes in some of the songs, so be aware if you choose to listen to them. I’ve included: - A song that represents them, - A song they'd listen to, and (for some) an additional song, depending on the character and circumstance

The full Spotify playlist for ALL songs and characters is linked at the end of the post.

Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde

Malleus Draconia

Represented by: Nymphs Finding the Head of Orpheus - Nicole Dollanganger

This song was actually what inspired me to make this series. It just reminds me so much of Malleus. The narrative setting is similar to the ruins he loves to explore, the music itself is somewhat ethereal, and the lyrics reflect the loneliness Malleus often feels, as well as his fear of loss and change.  It's powerful, it's reflective, it's strange, and it's beautiful. Much like Malleus himself.

Listens to: Symphony No. 40 in G Minor, K. 550: IV: Allegro assai - W.A. Mozart, Sinfonia Varsovia, Yehudi Menuhin

Malleus likely listens to primarily classical music, and probably knows how to play many of the pieces he listens to. He would especially enjoy the playfulness of Mozart's compositions, as most Mozart pieces (operas, symphonies, etc.) have a light mood, and are usually filled with jokes. Absolutely perfect for a fae prince!

Lilia Vanrouge

Represented by: Phantasmagoria - Polkadot Cadaver

This song feels very Lilia to me. With a focus on (possibly?) playful scaring, and the uncertain or hidden origins of what people see. There's spooks and startles, but is generally meant to be fun... or that's what's assumed. The Avant-Garde metal genre also suits the unique, fun intensity of Lilia's character.

Listens to: After Life in Purgatory - Lock Up

Okay, I know that 'Lock Up' is grindcore, and not the thrash metal that Lilia canonically listens to. BUT he would totally also listen to music like this. It's fast. It's loud. It's full of screaming. Lilia would love it! (And he'd probably somewhat relate to the lyrics of this song too, considering his past...)

Bonus - Suggests for Music Club: Renewal - Veil

Lilia would suggest something like Veil to play in Music Club, arguing that it's more "gentle" and "approachable" for non-metal fans than some other subgenres, which, yes, that may be the case, but still... Cater would be a bit freaked out.

Silver

Represented by: イジメ、ダメ、ゼッタイ - Babymetal

Silver is an interesting character, being both gentle and fierce simultaneously, which is well-encapsulated in Babymetal's music. The lyrics to this song also are akin to Silver's worldview, and his wish for balance, harmony, and connection.

Listens to: Over the Edge - Sarah Jarosz

I think Silver would listen to softer music, probably a lot of folk, bluegrass, and country music. and, like Jade, he would especially love songs about nature and the outdoors. It just seems like it would suit him!  However, I also think he shares a lot of his father's taste in music, resulting in some very strange playlists...

Sebek

Represented by: Soap - The Oh Hellos

Sebek seems to struggle a lot with his mixed identity, outright rejecting half of his heritage. (I think that's something he will learn to accept at some point in the future, and be able to become even stronger in himself and his identity as a result.) However, Sebek is also a bold, determined individual, and truly cares deeply for those he loves and respects... even if he may not outwardly show it.

Listens to: String Quartet No. 6 in F Minor, Op. 80, MWV R37: II: Allegro assai - Felix Mendelssohn, Quatuor Ébène

Because I think Malleus favours classical string music, I also think that Sebek would believe that he should also listen to similar music (as it is obviously superior!) And while he does enjoy many classical pieces, especially Mendelssohn's compositions, it would probably not be Sebek's preferred music in most situations, even if he does listen to it often.

Bonus - Prefers to listen to: Oscar Wilde Gets Out - Elton John

I'm not totally sure why, but I think Sebek would really like music by Elton John! I think that the softer pop rock sound would be something he would enjoy. Oscar Wilde Gets Out would definitely appeal to Sebek, for the literary allusions and references if nothing else.

[shiningdesignersreflections]

Chapter 2: Two Challenges

Narrated by Nikki.

Narrator: I flip open the script at the desk, marking out Jenny’s lines with stars as I read.

Choose “What kind of character is she?”

You: What kind of character is she?

Narrator: A young princess.

Choose “Does she live in a castle?”

You: Is she an extravagantly-clad princess who lives in a castle?

Narrator: Doesn’t look like it.

Narrator: Jenny is a princess who loves adventures. She embarks on several dangerous tasks in the play.

Narrator: I take out my sketchbook and try to jot down my fragmented ideas.

Nikki: White is a good color for showing the princess’ innocence, while bright colors accentuate her adventurous spirit.

Choose either “Red should be a good choice” or “Black creates a great contrast.”

If “red,” ...

You: Red should be a good choice.

Nikki: I agree! Red is a symbol of passion and courage. It’s also a classic combo with white.

If “black,” ...

You: Back could create a great contrast.

Nikki: It’s a bold choice for sure. Maybe some parts in the latter half would require some black.

--

Narrator: I dip my brush in red paint and color in the hem of the dress.

Nikki: Hmm... a puffy dress would be hard to move in. The princess would need a sleeker design.

Narrator: Wielding both pencil and eraser I tweak my design until it looks easy to move around in.

Nikki: Whew, almost done!

Narrator: I end up with a sketch of a red-and-white dress. Jenny’s actress will look like a blooming flower twirling in it.

Nikki: I hope the troupe members will see what I’m trying to convey.

Narrator: I bring the sketch to Edmond the next day and explain my ideas to him. Even put up an impromptu performance.

Narrator: Edmond listens attentively and studies my sketch a bit. His mustache raises in amusement.

Edmond: Excellent design. I’ve decided that you may join us... as the actor of Jenny.

Nikki: Yay! ...What, what?

Narrator: I’ll be playing Jenny?

Choose either “You’ll play Jenny” or “You should’ve known.”

If “play,” ...

You: Yes. You’ll be playing Jenny.

Narrator: But I thought volunteers would only be in charge of costume design and set work...

If “known,” ...

You: You should’ve expected this, right?

Narrator: Yeah, I guess. A lot of theater actors double as costume designers, too.

--

Narrator: No wonder Lolory said “Looking forward to seeing you on the stage.”

Edmond: What do you say? We’re very eager to have you as one of us.

Nikki: Thank you for placing your trust in me. I’ll do my best and practice hard.

Narrator: Things, of course, don’t go that smoothly. I devour the script and memorize the lines, but the acting part...

Narrator: I just can’t convey my character’s emotions properly. Seeing my agitation, Momo tries to comfort me.

Momo: Don’t be so upset! You’re challenging yourself with something new. Of course you’ll face a few setbacks.

Momo: I heard backstage that Yexiao’s working as a designer for the play, too, and she’s not doing that great either.

Nikki: Yexiao’s style is pretty different from the troupe’s. She must be challenging herself with a new direction in her designs.

Momo: You’re working as hard as she is. Besides, you have me! I know a way to help you to train better.

Momo: You’ve been reciting your lines to a lifeless lamb plushy.

Momo: If you practice with me instead, you’ll be more in tune with your emotions!

Nikki: Practice with you? Can you handle that?

Momo: Of course! I’ve watched tons of dramas.

Narrator: All Momo ever watches is soap operas. Still, as worried as I am, I fill him in on the plot.

Momo: There’s no need! I’ve been watching you practice for a while and already know the story!

Narrator: We bring Momo to the rehearsal site the next day and explain the situation to the actors.

Nikki: I have trouble getting into my role, so I asked Momo to help me practice. Is that okay?

Actor A: Sure. Getting into a role is never easy, and you’re still new to the scene. It’s good to practice with someone familiar.

Actor B: Yeah! I’m so jealous of you for having such a cute practice partner. My only partner is myself!

Actor C: In fact, if it works out well, we might invite Momo to perform in the play, too!

Narrator: Everyone is very understanding, and Momo ends up taking over the role as my “lamb.”

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

[pollyna]

All of these prompts sound fascinating! Being super into Ice, I'd be really interested in 4, 15, 22 and 31, but any writing of yours is a gift.

It wans't in any of my plans to actually write on of that prompts AHAHAH but anyway i can't say no, but it's gonna be an extension of the prompt more than a ff? I'm probably going to go back on them at some point when the fucking inventary will stop killing me. So thank you so much for your kind words and i'm really sorry if it's not what you were expecting.

-#04: Can't pass out

"We had a pact, Admiral" a voice says, from the door.

"No. You, my husband, and my kid decided on something. I, for my part, didn't agree with anything. So no, no pact of any kind, Admiral Kerner."

"Thomas." 

"Ronald, what can I do for you today?"

"Cancer won't win because work will kill you first."

"I'm going to die anyway. At least you should let me choose how, what do you think?"

Ron knows that snapping back won't help, that Tom is just as concerned and scared as they all are. And he's tired. He was more tired than he let people see, but Ron had been around since Tom was nineteen, and he saw it all, so he knew.

"Come on, old man, let me take you home; we can eat takeout and watch stupid soap operas, and I won't tell anybody you fell asleep ten minutes into the night's most interesting movie," Ron says, and he knows he's won when Tom snorts back at him.

"Okay, okay. But only if you can get the chicken from that southern place on the Sixth." 

Ron doesn't say it but he would go to Georgia to take a single piece of chicken tender if that would help in taking Ice home.

Tom goes from standing up to almost face down on the maquette in half a second, the time Ron has to imagine himself flying to Georgia and back in time for dinner and thinking about how many laws he could break or not. Tom's body hits the ground but not with his face because Ron still has some reflex and grabs him before the worst can happen.

"I'm too young for this shit, Ronnie" Tom whispers, against his chest, a lifetime of silence after.

"I know Tommy, I know. But you have to stay awake and not pass out. Then we will go home and eat all the fried chicken you want" he answers, whispering too because he's sure that if he tries to talk out loud he will start crying and he can't, not right now.

-#15: New scars. This one it's gonna be a little more consistent but that's bc it's a fic I'm trying to write since forver and i'm constantly changing parameters on what i should or shouldn't do. But it's not the interesting part of it, sorry lol.

"I can try to do that." Tom nods as if he's trying to convince himself, and Ron has to count from five to zero before moving a single muscle.

5 old scars someone put on his body and he tells the story to Maverick + the 5 Maverick was around to see heal.

I.

He got the first one when he's five and running around with a plastic plane his dad took home after his n. mission he can't talk about but makes him angry and snappy with his mom but soft with his son, expecially when he passes his big, big, hands in his hair. He's running around the garden and then he's falling on his little plane, his mom is running towards him, his dad is screaming he's an idiot and toy is broke in two pieces and Tom doesn't know what he makes him cry the most: the blood he's loosing from his knee or he precious new toy that now lies between the grass without a wing.

His dad put the plane in the bin and doesn't listen reason when his mom tries to tell him that it can be easily fix and Tom gets a scar, a small and insignificant one that he will soon forget.

(Mav kisses it, during one of nights they have free and have no hurry be anywhere if not in bed. He makes funny faces evertime Tom tells the story on how he got it and Iceman laugh along because you're cute when you make that face Pete.)

II.

The second one Pete notices, this time they're making out on 'Wood terrible couch because everybody else is outside for a barbecue and it's too hot to stay inside but kissing Pete is worth even that, is just a little as the first one, mostly covered by his hairs and when Pete's finger trace it he almost jump because he forgot he was there and it still so sensitive. Pete notices but doesn't have the time to say anything because Tom is kissing him again and Ron is calling because dinner is read and if they don't move their going to have to eat grass!

(He tells Pete, a couple of hours and beers later, that high school hasn't been as kind as he likes to remember. And he talked too many, two, languages people didn't understand and Easter Europe heritage made him a commie every day of the week. He got in a fight more against a desk than the boy but they both got suspended but nobody ever tried to mess with him, after that day.)

III.

-#22: Caughing out blood.

The next one has a funny story that makes Slider a little wild when he gets around talking about it because he has the same one in the same place! Young, dumb and a day away from deployment they drunk too much shitty alcohol they find in the mess kitchen and tried to jump over the wall on the Academy. They both failed so bad they end up with both of their forearms bleeding a little and the instructor was soooo pissed, do you remember Tommy? He talked for hours and we had the mother of all headaches but Ice cold no mistake found the way out of that situation just looking at the guy. I could have kissed you right there for that.

He washed it three times, and there's still blood on it. The blood is on his shirt, on his hands, on his skin, and uncl-his dad is lying on a hospital bed, with too many machines connected to his body and an oxygen mask covering his nose and mouth. Deployment sucked this time around; the squadron was full of navy brats who wanted to know more about everybody. At least Phoenix was there.

They were eating outside, at some place on the ocean Mav found while riding his bike at three in the morning when Ice wasn't there, and that he promised made the best risotto seafood he ever tasted. They were laughing, drinking white wine, and his arm was around Ice's shoulders in support of Mav's last disaster when the older man started to cough. Once, twice, and then a third time, until Bradley felt his own blood running cold because there was blood. Blood on the tissue and then on his shirt because Ice wasn't fast enough to cover his mouth again.

And then Mav's hands were touching Ice and looking at him like he was trying to find an answer to a question Bradley didn't even know existed.

"Breath love breath. Bradley is going to drive us to the hospital, but I need you to continue to breath like the doctor showed you." He said, "Yeah, yeah, like that. C'mon Ice, I know you can do it." 

"Baby Goose, eyes here. I need you to start the car. We will be right behind you. Then you will drive to the hospital, and I'm going to explain everything, but I need to make sure Ice is okay before that. Do you understand Brad?"

"Ye-yes, pops. Car, hospital, and then you're going to explain it to me. Okay. "

Ice's eyes were glossy and concentrated on Maverick and Maverick alone.

"It's going to be okay, Baby Goose." Ice murmured, his voice low and cracked. 

-#31: You can rest now.

The idea comes to Rooster while on a little too much of a drug after they had to set his shoulder twice because the first time it didn't set right.

Once I'm out of here, we should all go and spend the night in the den. Nothing is as warm and comfy as the den. I miss the den. Can we go to the den, pops?" he asked, almost on the point of tears.

"Yeah, Baby Goose, we can go to the den." He answers, laughing a little.

"Okay pops, thank you" he answers before snuggling a little more into his pillow, with Natasha and Jake's fingers patting his hair.

-

The den is warm and, oh, how Bradley missed this place.

"So this is the den?" a voice behind him asks, and someone whistles.

"Yeah, yeah this is the den." Bradley answers before slumping in his favourite spot, the cat already stretching her belly to let him pat her.

"It's nice." Jake says, sitting beside him.

"Yeah, every house should have one!" Fritz adds "and a cat! Who's this beautiful creature? Bradley, why are you trying to hide all the beautiful people in your life from me?"

Everybody's laughing and it's like Bradley's eight again when Carole used the den to organise him birthday parties he wasn't supposed to know anything about.

But now he's thirty-eight and his mom is dead more years than she was alive and the people around him are his family in the way his uncles are and-and Bradley wants to lie in the sun and let himself feel something that's not anger for once.

And apparently everybody has the same idea because he can finish the thought that eleven other bodies cuddle around him and he loses the count of hands that are touching, patting, and massaging him, but it feels so good that he doesn't want to be anywhere else. Lady Carole curls on his stomach, the door opens, and soft steps are followed by the smell of warm cider and biscuits. Before falling asleep, he hears Mav and Ice on the sofa, softly conversing with Halo.

[writingwithciara]

Just Another Day ~Miguel Diaz~

summary: y/n and miguel are close friends. y/n believes that valentine’s day is just another day of the year. miguel is a hopeless romantic who constantly dreams of the perfect date. when johnny asks his students for a volunteer to take his little sister out for the night, it only makes sense for it to be miguel.

word count: 1.5k

pairings: miguel diaz x Lawrence!reader, johnny lawrence x sister!reader

warnings: none

a/n: i started this around the time that cobra kai was released on netflix. that was about 2 years. it’s been sitting in my drafts, half completed, since then. i’m releasing it now because it’s valentine’s day. hope you enjoy & happy valentine’s day ❤️💝🌹🍫

masterlist

“you have a date for valentine’s day?” y/n followed her brother around the apartment as he cleaned up. “YOU have a date for the day of love? that sounds like bullshit.”

“well, it’s not.” he threw a couple of bottles in the trash before turning to look at his little sister. “you’re gonna be out that night, correct?”

“well, i would leave the apartment but i dont have any plans.”

“you could always just go hang out at golf n’ stuff.”

“no thanks. that place is going to be crawling with couples & i don’t feel like seeing that. valentine’s day is just another day that is over commercialized and i really don’t find the appeal.”

“if you stay here, you’ll see another couple.”

“well then find me a date for saturday night & i won’t be here to annoy you.”

johnny rolled his eyes and went to his room. he loved his sister, truly, but sometimes she got on his nerves. he wanted her to be happy. she was too young to be cynical about love.

the next day at the dojo, he examined his students, trying to find a suitable date for his sister. his eyes landed on hawk and miguel. either one of them would do, he thought. 

“alright, listen up. saturday is valentine’s day and im assuming neither of you guys have dates. am i correct?”

“actually, sensei, i do have a date with my girlfriend.” hawk smiled and high-fived miguel.

“okay.” he looked at miguel. “what about you?”

“my yaya wants to teach me how to cook.”

“look, someone needs to break their plans.”

“why is that, sensei?”

“because i have a date and my little sister needs to be out of the apartment for the night so i need someone to take her out.”

“oh. why didn’t you just say so? i’ll do it, sensei.”

“what about your yaya?”

“she’ll understand. she adores y/n so much.” miguel smiled. “she isn’t a very big fan of the day but i’m sure i can change her mind.”

“thanks, miguel. just don’t do anything stupid or hurt her, okay?”

“understood, sensei.”

friday came fast and that meant valentine’s day was tomorrow. miguel had already had the perfect date planned out and he tweaked it a little to incorporate some of y/n’s favorite things. he was sure she would love it. all that was left to do was ask her.

“hey, miggy. what are you doing in the library?” y/n looked up from the book she was reading when miguel sat down at the table with her.

“i came here to ask you something super important.”

“okay. i’m intrigued.” she closed the book completely and maneuvered so she was facing him directly. “what’s up?”

“what are you doing tomorrow night?”

“wandering around town because my brother is kicking me out for the night. why?”

“well, maybe you can hang out with me. my mom has a date so my yaya is gonna be watching old soap operas.”

“i love old soap operas. can i hang out with her?”

“what? no. can you please just say you’ll hang out with me?”

“okay. but just so you know, i-”

“i know. you don’t like any of that cheap valentines day crap. no romance, right?”

“as long as there is absolutely no romance planned, i’m in.”

“perfect. i’ll stop by your place and pick you up around 6. sound good?”

“sounds perfect.” she smiled and watched as he left the library happily. miguel diaz was truly one of a kind.

the next night, y/n stood in front of the mirror in her room. she changed her outfit about a hundred times but nothing looked good.

“johnny, can you come here please?”

“what is it? my date will be here soon and i want you gone before she gets here.” he opened her door and looked at her. “what?”

“does this outfit look fine? i’m hanging out with miguel tonight and i can’t decide on a decent outfit.”

“you look fine. i’m sure he won’t care about what you’re wearing. he likes spending time with you.”

“he does?”

“yeah, i think so.” johnny scanned her bedroom and sighed. “i hope you’ll be cleaning this up later.”

“obviously. i may be a Lawrence but i’m not a slob.” she smiled and dodged the jacket he threw at her. she began to pick up a few things when she heard miguel’s special knock on the door. “miguel’s here. i’ll be back later.” when she opened the door, miguel and his mom were standing on the other side.

“ready to go?”

“yes, of course.” she stepped out and his mom stepped in. “you’re my brother’s date tonight?”

“yes.” she smiled shyly and looked around for johnny, who had disappeared into his room.

“johnny, your date’s here. don’t keep her waiting.” y/n looked at carmen and smiled. “have a seat on the couch. he should be out shortly.”

“alright, thank you. you kids have fun tonight.”

“we will, mom.” miguel closed the door and walked away from the apartment with y/n.

“so, where are we going on this wonderful evening?”

“well, since you don’t like valentine’s day, or romance really, i have decided that the best place for you to be tonight is golf n’ stuff.”

“that’s where johnny told me to go but i said i didn’t wanna go because of all the couples that will probably be there. but at least now i won’t be alone. i’ll be with you.”

“most of the events tonight are just what we would normally do when we hang out, aside from the few special additions i planned for you.”

“they better not be romantic plans, miguel.”

“don’t worry. i chose carefully so you wouldn’t hate me.”

when they arrived at golf n’ stuff, it was nearly empty, aside from a few lonely people and the workers. they played a round of mini golf and then went inside to play some games. miguel won lots of tickets and got y/n a sculpture of a koala on a bamboo leaf. after the games, they went out to the go-kart track and raced each other. miguel let y/n win because he knew it’d make her happy.

at the end of the night, miguel took her to Tommy’s. it was her favorite place to go for a burger and it was the least romantic restaurant he knew of. 

“you know, i’m happy with what transpired tonight. it was way more fun than i thought it was going to be.” y/n smiled as she and miguel stopped outside her apartment. “thanks for taking me out tonight, miguel.”

“it was my pleasure.” he looked at her and smiled back. “when sensei asked for a volunteer to take you out, i offered to do it.”

“so, this was all because of johnny?” y/n frowned and miguel began to trip over his words.

“no no no. well, yes but...he was just...he was only looking out for you and wanted to make sure you were happy. he’s my sensei. what else was i going to do?”

“you volunteered because he asked you to do it? that’s not really volunteering then, is it?”

“what?”

“so this date wasn’t because you actually like me?”

“i do. i do like you. god, i am such an idiot right now.”

“elaborate, please.” she crossed her arms and tapped her foot.

“when he first asked, he never mentioned it was for someone to take you out. he just asked if anyone had plans. i thought he was going to ask us to come in to train some more so i told him that i had plans with my yaya. but then he said he wanted someone to take you out and when your name came out of his mouth, i quickly volunteered. i think that maybe he thought i was a little too eager because he was barely finished asking the question before i spoke up.” miguel chuckled. y/n, however, didn’t look to amused. “look, i know you think i’m an idiot but the truth is, i really do like you. the only reason i never asked you out before was because i know how you feel about romance and all that cheesy crap. i didn’t want to ruin what we already had by asking you out and scaring you off. so i figured that volunteering to do it would give me a little more confidence to enact the plan i’ve had written down since i met you.”

“are you done now?”

“no. wait, yes. i-i believe so.”

“okay, well aside from the fact that johnny was pretty much behind all of this, i really did have a great time tonight. any time i’m with you is fun, even if we’re just sitting around doing nothing. i like spending time with you, miguel. and as for the cheesy romance crap, i think i’ll be able to handle it as long as it’s coming from you.”

“are you saying what i think you’re saying?”

“i’ve been waiting for a year and a half for you, miguel. i really don’t want to wait any longer.”

“me either.” he smiled and pulled her in for a gentle kiss. they were so invested in their affection that they hadn’t noticed the apartment door opening. it was only when they heard johnny’s voice that they pulled apart.

“i guess you’re okay with valentine’s day now.”

leave it to johnny to ruin a beautiful moment.

[asirensrage]

Okay, so I thought about the special request from the birthday event. I’m still squealing with joy from having won something. It’s almost like the time Steve won a fight in season 3.

Anyhoo, can I request a Stranger Things one shot featuring an OC who, sensing the tension between Steve and Eddie, decided to set them up together? Somehow, she ends up dating both of them. Pretty please? 🥺 Thank you!

Okay, so this took me awhile but I actually had a lot of fun writing it. This oc was hilarious to write and it ended up longer than I intended. I hope you enjoy it.

Title: Best Laid Plans Rating: PG Fandom: Stranger Things Pairing: mentioned Steve/Eddie, Steve/OC/Eddie Warnings: oc assuming sexualities, obliviousness, not sure if there's anything else... Summary: Steve and Eddie argue. Constantly. She decides to do something about it but you know what they say about the best laid plans...

Notes: the oc is unnamed and not described except by she/her (and getting called babe and princess). She has good intentions but it's like she has blinders on...

She drums her fingers on the counter, watching as the two of them argue. They’re always arguing lately. It wasn’t malicious. She’s pretty sure they enjoy their debates with how passionate they are. Still, it was getting to be too much and she was half inclined to lock them in a closet so that they could deal with whatever repressed feelings they have. Maybe then she wouldn’t have to listen to them. 

That sounded mean even in her own head. Not that she means it that way it’s just…she’s bored of being single and seeing the two of them go back and forth is like watching a soap opera she doesn’t get the option to change the channel on. Though that gives her an idea. Since she has no control over the remote, the least she could do is get the action moving along and maybe they’d take their…passion elsewhere. At least then she wouldn’t have to see it and feel jealous. Not that she’d admit that. 

Well, challenge accepted. It would help make her summer more entertaining if nothing else. 

She starts with Eddie. 

“So…” she drawls out, sitting on the picnic table he uses for his base of operations. It’s the only place she knows they’ll have privacy. Eddie’s clientele either make appointments or are obvious in the ways they show up. 

“Hmm?” he leans on his arms, propped up on the table. “So what?”

“You think Steve’s straight?”

His elbow slips off the table, sending his head crashing down. 

She covers her mouth, trying not to laugh. “Oh my god, are you okay?” 

He jolts up, rubbing at his chin. “Uh, yeah. What–what did you just ask?”

“Do you think Steve’s straight?”

“Harrington?” He stares at her like she’s gained a second head. “Harrington who’s on a date every other night with a different girl, Harrington?”

She nods. “The very same.” 

“Uh, yeah. Why wouldn’t he be?” 

She shrugs. “Just curious.” She doesn’t want to press too hard. It probably isn’t an easy thing. The world isn’t kind to those who don’t fit the norms. Maybe it will be enough to get him thinking about it. 

“Why you asking? You interested in him?” He waggles his eyebrows at her, grinning slightly. There is a hesitance to his smile though. 

“No,” she reassures him. “Steve and I? Wouldn’t work.” She laughs it off. Eddie’s staring at her though, head tilted to the side. She’s used to him observing her. Eddie stares at everyone, trying to figure them out. 

“Think you’re selling yourself short, but go on. Tell me why it wouldn’t work.” 

“What do you mean?” she asks, turning to face him a bit more. Her feet rest on the bench next to him. “We have nothing in common.”

“Like..?” 

“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “I don’t party–”

“Far as I know, Harrington hasn’t been going to any parties for years.”

“I’m not athletic–”

“You sure? I saw you chase down some middle school kid who stole from that store last week. Kid was fast and you caught him.”

“Adrenaline and spite,” she waves it off. 

“That’s only two things…” he says, his voice lilting. 

She can’t help but scowl back. “I’m not done.” She waited until he motioned for her to continue. “We don’t even like the same things. You think Harrington likes Metallica?”

“Never took you for a music snob.” 

“I’m not! I just…can you picture Steve going to a concert without complaining? Besides, it's not just music.” 

“Then what is it?”

“Nothing!” She shakes her head, wondering how they even got to this point. “How did we even get to this?”

“You’re the one that brought up Harrington.”

“Not for me!” She huffs and jumps off the table. This is pointless. “I’m going home.” 

“Aw, come on, princess!”

“Bye Eddie!”

Eddie is a bust. Mainly because of the way he can get her distracted and off topic. She doesn’t like it. She goes for Steve next. 

She catches him when he’s on break at the video store. It’s handy because Robin is working but not on break so she doesn’t have to navigate Robin’s input into her investigation. Not that Robin would be a bad choice for a co-conspirator but she doesn’t want to accidentally reveal something the boys didn’t want anyone to know. She just wants…to nudge them in the right direction. That’s all. 

“What are you doing here?” Steve asks. He leans against the brick wall in the alley behind the store. 

“Just came to talk,” she says. 

He straightens slightly. “To me?”

“No, the brick wall behind you,” she says dryly. He scowls at her but sighs. “What do you think about Eddie?”

“Munson? Why?”

“Just curious,” she shrugs before moving to lean against the wall next to him. 

“You into him or something?”

“Eddie? No,” she laughs slightly, feeling a weird sense of deja vu. 

“Then why are you asking?” He crosses his arms over his chest, pointedly not looking at her. Maybe she should have started with Steve. 

“Like I said, I’m curious.” 

“Shouldn’t you be asking a girl or something? Like…Robin? Actually, maybe not Robin…one of your other friends?” 

“Yeah, but you’re here,” she says. “Besides, most of my other friends left town. University and all.” 

“Oh, right. You upset about still being here?”

“Nope. I’m happy where I am. Now are you gonna answer my question or not?” 

“What question?”

She tries not to roll her eyes. “About Eddie!”

“What do you want me to say? Munson’s a good dude. Don’t really know him that well.”

“Don’t lie to me, Harrington.” 

He rolls his eyes. “I’m serious. I know him through Dustin. Not like we’re friends…”

“Steve, you two argue all the time.”

“No we don’t. Besides not like you’re around us 24/7.”

Her eyes lit up. Was that a confession? “Yeah? How can you say you’re not friends when you clearly hang out enough.” 

“Jealous?”

“Not at all. I love having the peace and silence when you’re not around.” 

He frowns slightly. “You don’t like hanging out with us? Are we that bad?”

“What? No. I’m just tired of hearing you two argue.”

There’s a bang on the door before it opens and Robin peeks her head out. “Hey doofus, break’s over! Hey! What are you doing here?” Robin looks at her in surprise. 

“Just passing by. I’ll pass by later and come see you, okay?”

“Can’t wait,” Robin agrees. “Come on, Steve. Don’t leave me listening to this woman telling me that Footloose is peak cinema. Please.” 

He sighs. “I’ll see you later?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she agrees offhandedly before waving goodbye to both of them. At least she was finally starting to get somewhere. 

She continues to try to ask them questions about each other only to have both of them somehow twist the conversations until she’s the one who’s put on the spot. She doesn’t know how they do it, especially when she works hard to keep control of the topics. 

Finally, she comes up with the perfect plan. Okay, it’s not really perfect, but it was good. Decent. Whatever. She’s trying. Robin helps. 

She organizes a date. Not that they’re fully aware of it. It’s not meant to be anything obvious. Robin and her arrange for them to meet her at the local bowling alley. She’ll hang out a bit before disappearing and leaving them to play. Hopefully they’ll work something out and she’ll be able to continue hanging out with them without listening to them argue. Surprisingly, both men were enthusiastic about it. 

“Alright! Prepare to be dazzled!” Steve rubs his hands together as we all head toward the lane. 

“You just jinxed yourself,” she calls out. Eddie has his hands shoved into his pockets as he walks beside her. 

“You wait,” Steve turns around to tell them. “I’m a bowling master!”

“My money’s on Princess here,” Eddie says. “If she can roll a ball as hard as she can tackle a kid, you’re losing.”

“Will you stop with the princess thing?”, she turns on Eddie. “And let go of the kid. It was one time!”

“It was awesome.” 

“Oh my god.”

“Come on!” Steve calls out. “Let’s play already!” 

She plots out her escape as she moves forward. “Yeah yeah, prepare to lose, Harrington.” At least she’ll enjoy it before she disappears. 

She doesn’t get the chance. The men keep her occupied and every attempt to slink off has been thwarted by them asking where she’s going and looking for her the moment she’s gone too long. Even when she offers to grab food, Steve comes with her. When she heads to the washroom, Eddie tells her he’s going to try the claw game and to come see if he wins when she’s done. 

They usher her out of the bowling alley when their game is done. Steve suggests grabbing food, Eddie offers to drive and before she knows it, she’s in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van, sitting on Steve’s lap. She doesn’t know when Eddie got rid of the backseat but she’s not about to ask questions. She doesn’t really want to know. 

Eddie corners her in the booth while Steve sits on her other side. They order quickly, arguing back and forth over the best choice until she nudges them both and gives the waitress an out. This is not going as planned but then Steve throws his arm over the bench behind her and Eddie presses his leg into hers. It occurs to her that maybe they’re using her as a buffer, so no one will get suspicious. She can use that. Maybe having her here will make them wish she was gone. 

“What are you thinking about?” Steve asks, turning slightly towards her. “Aren’t you having fun?” 

“Yeah,” she admits. “But I think I should go soon.” 

“What? Why?” Eddie leans in. “Night’s young.” 

“You sound like a vampire,” she says dryly. “I’m not the party type.”

“We could go see a movie,” Steve shrugs. “Theatre’s still open.” 

“What? No, you guys can go without me.”

“Aww, come on, princess,” Eddie drawls. “It’s not fun without you.”

“Yeah, you’re gonna leave me here alone with Munson? What kind of date is this?”

“What?” she straightens. “What date?” Did Robin tell him the plan? 

“Aren’t we on a date?” Steve asks, sounding confused. 

“We can’t be on a date,” she says. “There’s three of us. Unless you want me to ditch in which case, move and I’ll go.” 

“Wait,” Eddie touches her arm, drawing her attention to him. “Hold on. Did you…really not know?”

“Not know what?” she hisses, confused and trying not to draw further attention. If she was right, she didn’t want to cause them problems. 

“That we’re on a date, princess. All of us. Together. We thought that’s what you wanted. That Robin was helping you out by forcefully saying she wasn’t coming.”

“Yeah,” Steve added. “You kept asking us about what we were into.”

“If we liked the other person,” Eddie continues. “We thought you were trying to figure out if we’d get upset that you wanted to date both of us.” 

She sits there, stunned. What? She thinks back on the last couple of weeks and tries to see it, not through a lens of them being interested in each other, but in her. “Oh my god.” The way they each suggested the other, twisting the conversations until it was about her and what she liked and who she was interested in. “Oh my god.” 

“Think she’s figured it out,” she hears Eddie says. 

“Or we broke her.  Are you ok babe?”

“Oh my god,” she whispers again. She looks between the men on either side of her. “And you’re both…okay with this?” 

“Well, bit weird but yeah,” Eddie says. “I mean, as long as you are. We had fun, didn’t we?”

“I did,” Steve inputs. They all pause as the waitress delivers the food. 

She takes the chance to eat, giving herself time to think. She can admit that she had fun, aside from them managing to derail all of her plans. She’s enjoyed herself every time she sought them out, even if they turned all of their conversations. “I…”

“Just think, princess. Best of both worlds if you agree.”

“You really think this will work?”

“Why not?” Eddie shrugs while grabbing one of her fries. 

“You really want to choose?” Steve asks. “I mean, you can. We won’t take it personally.”

“I thought…I thought you were…interested in each other,” she whispers the last part. The men laugh. 

“I mean, Harrington’s easy on the eyes,” Eddie says with a wink. “But lot of the time we were talking about you.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” Steve says. “Not all the time but yeah. We couldn’t get a read on you.”

“Until you started asking us about each other.” Eddie grins and nudges her with his leg. It forces her to knock into Steve. “So what do you say, princess? Willing to give us a chance?”

“Only if you stop calling me princess,” she says automatically. They both go still. 

“Does that mean yes?” Steve asks after a moment. 

She sighs. “I’m never going to get any peace, am I?” 

Eddie throws his arm around her and yanks her into his side. “Nope!” He lets go just as quickly. 

Steve leans closer, drawing her attention to him. “We’ll make it worth it.” 

“Okay,” she says softly. “Why not?”

Eddie grins. “That’s the spirit! Be adventurous!”

“I need a nap,” she mutters to herself. Steve just laughs. 

taglist: @raith-way  @arrthurpendragon @zeleniafic @jvstjewels @veetlegeuse @chickensarentcheap @nejires-hado @residentdormouse @endless-oc-creations @stanshollaand @wordspin-shares @chrissymunson

st tag: @happinessinthedarkesttimes

[phoenixyfriend]

For your suddenly omegaverse au what exactly happened? Like I think obiwan and Anakin hop over from cannon verse to omegaverse but I am unclear on if there already existed obiwan and Anakin in omegaverse. Did they die early or do they just not exist or are they just not force sensitive and therefore not a part of the order? Is there still a sith conspiracy around Anakin?

Context: Original Post, Surrogacy, Worldbuilding, Obi-Mom, Soap Operas

So, from the original post:

There is no preexisting Anakin in the Omegaverse

Obi-Wan and Anakin just straight up don’t exist until they drop headfirst into the council room, already covered in blood.

To clarify: There has never been an Anakin Skywalker in this AU. There has never been an Obi-Wan Kenobi.

They don't know this for sure when they land in the AU, though. All they know is that the Jedi have no record of either of them. They figure, well, maybe they just got lost in the shuffle. Anakin wasn't found until he was nine, after all, and that was only by great coincidence.

The rest of this post has almost no mention of the omegaverse elements, FYI.

Warning: References to the Tusken massacre, explicit sedation and isolation of a mentally unstable individual threatening violence.

I don’t want to make light of institutionalization and involuntary holds, but Anakin is a character with a history of violence talking about repeating such an act, and that’s... a bit of an extreme case.

------

It's not that hard to convince the Temple to let them run a mission that lets them stop by Tatooine or Stewjon. Anakin cares a lot more, so Tatooine it is! Obi-Wan can tell there's something sketchy going on with Anakin's particular anxiety about this, but he rolls with it. Anakin was very specific about the timing for some reasons, and at this point, it's easier to just let it all play through.

They go well after the whole “congrats, you’re omegas... somehow,” thing has happened, a month or so before Geonosis would have happened. Obi-Wan has managed to help the council sabotage and delay the Separatist side of the war enough that they’ve gained... maybe a few weeks, maybe a few months. Just a little more time to keep a few more people alive. Nobody’s reached out to Kamino yet, and Jango isn’t staging a failed assassination to draw someone in, either. They’ve bought enough time for Anakin to spend his vacation time checking in on his mom seeing if he exists here, and Obi-Wan can go with him.

They get to Tatooine. They wander about, and Anakin doesn't actually explain where they're going, but takes them straight to where the Lars farm is. Obi-Wan lets Anakin tell him that it was the Force that led him to the right area. Anakin can sense that his mom is in there, and Obi-Wan chalks up the relief from his former padawan to 'she's here and we don't have to look for her.'

Anakin is... panicking. Just a bit. What if he shows up and it turns out this reality's Anakin is off doing something completely unrelated and she realizes he's the wrong person? Or what if she doesn't recognize him and he calls her Mom anyway? What if he fucks up and says something stupid or just starts crying on her? She'll think he's insane.

Obi-Wan... takes over.

Anakin stays hidden, listening. Obi-Wan knocks on the door, and asks if there's a 'Shmi Skywalker' in residence. Someone in town mentioned her. He explains that he has a young friend of about twenty years--they're not sure, exactly, because the friend doesn't know his own birthday, but it's about there--who happens to be a Skywalker, and they're trying to see if they can reconnect him with a parent. They don't have much to go off of other than the surname... the Shmi that lives here wouldn't happen to have ever had any children about that age?

No. She hasn't had any children of her own blood, actually, her only child is her stepson, but she'd be happy to meet this other Skywalker, if he's in the area. It's always nice to find family, and connecting with those that were separated from you is a big deal on Tatooine. She's not going to look a gift bantha in the mouth.

(Cliegg, dear, put down the rifle.)

Obi-Wan promises to let his friend know, bids them goodbye, and goes to find Anakin.

Anakin is having a bit of a breakdown.

As one does.

Anakin insists that they stick around for a bit, that they do what they can to protect the farm, because that's his mom, even if she's not really his mom, and Obi-Wan can tell there's a Lot Going On here. He assumes it's because Anakin's upset his mom doesn't know him, which is a little irrational on account of their two options being "Anakin doesn't exist (and so Shmi doesn't know him)" and "Anakin does exist (but Shmi doesn't know this Anakin, so she still doesn't know him)," but Anakin's not a very rational person.

Obi-Wan thinks tamping down the current crisis is probably a little more important than chastising Anakin's attachment issues, mostly because Anakin's hands are shaking, and he's looking a little wild-eyed, and like. Obi-Wan's not great at dealing with Anakin's many and varied emotions, but he's learned at some point when it's best to just... roll with it Until There's Less Risk of Stab or Sobbing Laughter.

He helps figure out some minor fuckery with the Force to hide the family in the homestead behind them from visitors, and to warn them to hide when someone comes by. It’s not a lot--mostly just meditating and asking the Force for a helping hand--but it’s nice.

Except, well, Anakin keeps fidgeting. He keeps panicking. He has them coming back almost daily for a week, always too scared to talk to his mom but insistent on protecting her, and always looking at the calendar. Obi-Wan wants to get back to the Temple, but whatever the actual hell is going on with Anakin is too big to just ignored.

A specific day comes and goes. Anakin is a mess of jitters and nerves, and finally Obi-Wan asks just the wrong (right?) question, and... they visit Shmi.

Anakin says they can talk later, he just wants to see his mom One Last Time.

(Obi-Wan is getting more and more worried, but he sits through the incredibly awkward meeting between Anakin and his alt-universe mom, watches as Anakin has no idea what to say and almost cries, and Shmi just kind of lets him do that and Beru--a sweet girl, Obi-Wan thinks, and very practical--tells him that this is all very normal for reunited slaves.)

(Obi-Wan wonders if maybe there’s some stuff Anakin never told him about how being a slave affected him.)

(Obi-Wan had thought they’d moved past most of this, but..)

The meeting ends. There’s hugging.

They get back to the ship, and Obi-Wan gets to watch Anakin fall apart. Obi-Wan gets to watch Anakin cry and scream into a pillow, hyperventilate and nearly punch a hole in the wall as he rages about how it was all for nothing! Obi-Wan gets to watch Anakin break into a million pieces in a way he’s never seen before.

Obi-Wan gets a confession.

Anakin tells him about the Tuskens.

It’s not an easy conversation. It’s not a short conversation, either. Anakin’s full of pain and misery and rising guilt, talks about how he’s been asking himself if it would be easier to keep his mother safe if he just killed them all now, except Obi-Wan would know, and be disappointed, and sure the Chancellor had said that they were little more than rabid animals, but Anakin doesn’t think he can kill the younglings again when his mom is still fine, and--

Obi-Wan sedates him.

He wants to say that he’s not proud of this, but... Anakin isn’t well. Anakin isn’t well in a way that is currently, specifically, revolving around doing extreme violence. Anakin is talking about going out and committing a slaughter as preventative maintenance.

Anakin stays sedated until they get back to the Temple, and he’s put in Force-suppressant cuffs--Obi-Wan quietly tells them to use something that can’t be sliced or taken apart by a droid specialist, and to avoid collars because Anakin was a slave for nearly a decade, and has a lot of traumatic associations--and in an isolated room.

It’s not a cell. Not technically.

He can’t just leave, though.

Obi-Wan hates himself for it, just a little. He doesn’t want to be doing this, not to his padawan, his brother, his son, but... a massacre. Even the younglings, he’d said.

(“He said he didn’t think he could do it again,” Obi-Wan mutters, half to himself and half to the mind healer that asks for his rundown of the situation. “I think he knows it was wrong, but...”)

(But he still did it, of course.)

It’s... better than Obi-Wan feared, but worse than he hoped.

Anakin is emotionally unstable. He has been, for a long time, but he’s usually functional. When the mind healer isn’t directly poking at his worst wounds, Anakin can more or less pass for... not okay, necessarily, but no worse than anyone else in the war had. He can say the right words. He can do a joint meditation. He can talk about philosophy the way a Knight that’s taken all the right classes does.

But part of Anakin still holds to the idea that the Tuskens deserved to die.

“This is my fault,” Obi-Wan whispers, more than once, resting his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. “I should have...”

“He was an adult,” says Mace, who isn’t Mace, not the one that Obi-Wan knows, but a newer friend, one that’s still figuring how to act around him. “Young, but still an adult. He made that choice.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t answer. Things aren’t that simple.

“The timing can’t have been a coincidence,” Obi-Wan mutters to himself, later on, but in the same spot, and the same position.

The Quinlan of this universe shrugs. He knows Obi-Wan better than most, right now. Psychometry’s helpful that way, and sharing Obi-Wan’s heat hadn’t hurt. “Seems likely. You said Sith were involved and setting traps, and a kid like yours, with that much power and trauma... ripe for the molding.”

Obi-Wan whines, and then catches the noise and stuffs it back down, locks it up tight with the other ‘instinct’ things he doesn’t like to think about having. The sound already has Quinlan shifting closer, and the smell is... intended to be comforting, he thinks. Reacting to his own distress, which he’s probably just pumping out right now, because he still doesn’t know how to--

“Can I help?” Quinlan asks, and Obi-Wan lets him.

Someone gets through to Anakin, maybe, or he just lets himself be ground down, or Obi-Wan’s entreaties that he can’t teach Ahsoka until he understands his crimes get through. He won’t be trusted around the clones until the Jedi can trust him to do the right thing, they inform him.

“I wouldn’t hurt the clones.”

“Nobody’s going to believe that until you understand your crimes and truly, actually feel remorse for them.”

There wasn’t a crime, technically. Not in this universe. That tribe is still alive, here, unknowing of the fate they escaped by dint of Anakin talking himself down from committing another slaughter.

(He tells the mind healer it’s because Obi-Wan was there.)

(He might have done it, he says, if he hadn’t thought Obi-Wan would be disappointed in him.)

(He says it like it’s a foregone conclusion, that Obi-Wan’s opinion is worth more than the horror of what he might become.)

“We’re going to keep an eye on anyone talking to Palpatine,” Shaak tells him one day, after Anakin’s been mental instability hold for two weeks. “We don’t know for sure how far the similarities extend from your universe to ours, but given everything else you’ve been right about...”

“That bad?” Obi-Wan asks.

Shaak grimaces, fangs glinting in the light. “I want to believe we’d have never allowed a child into such a position, but I can’t know what political leverage may have been used in your dimension... whatever reason was had to put Skywalker in those rooms, we know the consequences now--”

“What did he do to my padawan?” Obi-Wan demands, because Anakin won’t even tell him that. Anakin hasn’t mentioned Palpatine since they left Tatooine. Not to Obi-Wan.

“Nothing physical,” Shaak manages. “But the lies he told and the suggestions he planted... it’s good they haven’t met again yet in this life. We’ll all be keeping them far apart.”

He wants to take solace in that. “Why do you know before I do?”

“Skywalker values your opinion,” she says. “Only yours. He doesn’t want you more disappointed in him than you already are, so much of what is relayed to the council as a matter of security goes no further, but this was deemed necessary to share. He agreed to it, if you worried we’d broken his confidence.”

Anakin’s therapy would normally be entirely private.

Anakin’s therapy would normally not be in response to confessions of mass slaughter.

He hasn’t asked to be let out, which Obi-Wan hopes is a sign that he realizes at least subconsciously that he was in the wrong. The mind healer says he could have been released under watch by a Master probably a day or two after he arrived, but seems to be drawing some kind of comfort in knowing he couldn’t hurt someone even if he tried.

Obi-Wan is Anakin’s emergency contact. His next of kin. His healthcare proxy. Anakin has a right to privacy, minor as it is in such a situation, and everyone recognizes and treats him as an adult, but... Obi-Wan learns as much from the mind-healer as he would have back when Anakin was actually a child.

“He trusts you to make the right decisions,” the mind healer tells him, careful and unassuming. “He has... a lot of conflicting opinions about many things, including the order, the coming war, the nature of human reproductive dynamics, the Code... but he seems keen on the idea that you are his best reference on morality and ethics.”

Oh, good, more horrifying responsibility.

“He’s better,” the mind healer tells him. “I want to get him out of here before he starts going stir crazy while still relying on the perceived safety as a crutch for his mental health. And he--”

“He’ll be staying with me,” Obi-Wan says, heavy as anything. “I know.”

“Well... there’s a war coming,” the mind healer says. She offers a thin smile when he looks at her. “I don’t want him going out, but it makes him feel useful, gives him a direction for the aggression, and... the Council is adamant that we’ll need him as much as we need you.”

It’s true.

“Did he tell you why everyone called him the Hero With No Fear?”

“No.”

“Ask him.”

[rwprincess]

Midnight Sun'd Prologue (Brian Johnson x Fem!Reader)

Masterlist

Word Count: 10.5K (She like...20 pages long. Sorry).

Synopsis: My movie/Canon Prologue, but from Brian’s POV. That’s right, I’m Midnight Sun-ing this b*tch.

CW: Underage marijuana smoking, suicidal ideation, self-deprecating thoughts/self-doubt, low self-esteem, swearing, child abuse, parents being terrible, sexuality (since this is based on the movie, nothing is really outside the scope of the movie in terms of content).

Saturday, March 24th, 1984

Shermer High School, Shermer Illinois

Brian knew why he was here. In fact, he thanked his lucky stars that Saturday school, or detention, rather, had been his punishment. If this hadn’t been an extremely out-of-character first offense for him, he surely would have been suspended, or even expelled. His family had made their disappointment clear, especially when his mother told him to find a way to study and make amends today, even if he was asked to just sit in a room with strangers and reflect on what he did. When he arrived in the library, he was surprised to see Claire Standish already sitting there. She, of course, did not look up or make eye contact with him, but he chose to sit at the table behind her nonetheless. Before he could gather the courage to ask her what a popular, polished girl like herself could possibly be doing here, another two figures approached the doorway. Andrew Clark’s large, stocky frame loomed there for a moment before excitedly spying Claire. Again, no attempt was made to include Brian; he was practically invisible at this school, which was a big part of his underlying problems and self esteem here at Shermer High. It wasn’t so much that Brian wanted or needed popular people like Claire or Andrew to notice him. He didn’t really look up to them or desire their attention. It was just that, sometimes, it felt like everyone looked through him, as though he wasn’t even there. Adults acknowledged him, sure. He was polite and an overachiever, the perfect student. But his peers didn’t take much stock in him. He had a few loyal, true friends, but rarely did anyone outside of his particular interest groups reach out to him.

As Brian settled into a seat behind Claire, he took note of the second figure who had entered, the one who came in shortly after Andrew. It was her. Brian had to restrain himself from gawking when she entered the library, as she was one of the absolute last people he could ever picture earning a detention. Brian knew her from his English class last year; he had been stunned by her beauty the moment she entered the room that first day of high school and felt the same nervous, heart-pounding sensation he felt now, seeing her enter the library. He lamentably had zero classes with her this year, but he would see her in the hallways sometimes and that old familiar feeling would come rushing back to him, reminding him of the crush he had on her all last year. Back then, he had sat behind her, across the room and would catch himself staring at her or admiring her answers and volunteered opinions. His strong suit was in the more concrete subjects: science, math, that sort of thing. So the insightful analyses she would give always impressed him, and through them he got the sense that she was smart but also kind. This was precisely why he was shocked to see her here now, having earned the same consequence he had for bringing a weapon into school. But he couldn’t imagine her doing anything like that, anything to warrant this. He not-so-discreetly watched her as she hurried across the room and took a seat in the front row opposite to him. She, like Claire and Andrew, had not made eye contact or acknowledged him. Her seeing right through him hurt more, though.

Brian had sat down, but had not quite unpacked as he was still reeling from the revelation of Y/N being in the same detention as him, and that meant he would be in the same room as her for nine hours. He hadn’t even noticed John Bender stalk into the library, surveying the landscape that he was clearly king of. That is, until Bender stopped in front of him and snapped his fingers to get his attention and indicated for him to move out of his seat. Even if Brian weren’t the type to try to accommodate someone, a people pleaser, he would have followed John Bender’s instructions. Everyone in school knew of his reputation, and while some things were probably a lie (like throwing flaming toilet paper over Mrs. Applebaum’s house), some were definitely true, including his penchant for getting into fights. Brian had never had to fight someone before and he was pretty sure he lacked the capability to do so. Simply put: he would get his ass kicked. So he got up immediately and moved to the next seat over...right behind Y/N. He noticed that she stiffened, sat up straighter, as he slid into the seat behind her. So she had noticed his existence. But from her body language, he assumed that she didn’t particularly enjoy his presence. ‘Great. Perfect way to start this whole shitty day,’ he thought. At one point, Brian would have fancied himself an optimist, but lately that attitude was all but gone...not that his current situation helped much.

He also noticed the girl with black clothes, heavy makeup, and messy hair quickly walk along the outside of the tables and sit behind him, facing away from not only himself, but the entire group. He raised his eyebrows in disbelief, ‘Should be an interesting time,’ he thought while taking stock of her, Bender, the populars, and...Y/N. It still puzzled him that she could be here. Bender made total sense. Everyone knew that he practically lived here in detention. Based on how she looked and seemed to make herself comfortable, Brian guessed that the girl behind him also was a regular here. While he didn’t exactly expect Claire or Andy to be here, he wasn’t hugely shocked by it. Claire probably skipped school or was rude to a teacher or something and Andrew was an asshole anyway. He fit into the jock stereotype pretty well, all brawn and no brains, picking on those that he saw as weaker than him. Maybe that’s why he was here.

Vice Principal Vernon walked haughtily in, looking down on each and every one of them; a lord surveying his fiefdom. Brian’s posture stiffened as he both tried to show respect and unconsciously showed his fear of the man. The last conversation with him had also involved his parents and that was abhorrent, a total disaster. The recollection of the event made him nauseous. Right after he spoke, Claire raised her hand, “Excuse me sir, I think there’s been a mistake. I know it’s detention, but, um...I don’t think I belong in here.” Internally, Brian rolled his eyes. He didn’t really know Claire (he suspected that no one really truly did), but he had always been under the impression that she was full of herself. All of the popular clique seemed to be that way, just full of arrogance. And here she was announcing how she was better than all of them in front of them. Vernon completely ignored her statement and told them it was 7:06, on the dot. Brian quickly looked down at his watch and aligned it to Vernon’s time. He was very particular about organization and precision.

As Vernon started his speech about rules, Brian tried to shift slightly over, get comfortable. But Vernon looked right into him and Brian could swear he saw into the depths of his soul as he said, “You will not move from these seats,” and pointed right at him. He froze like a deer in the headlights and quickly moved back. Brian had almost always blindly followed authority and now was definitely not the time to change that. Vernon continued and Brian only half-listened, looking around to gauge how the rest of the group was reacting, until he heard him say, “Good. So, maybe you’ll decide whether or not you care to return-” He saw this as the perfect time to redeem himself and started to stand up, raising his hand.

“Um, you know, I can answer that right now, sir. And that would be a no for me-”

“Sit down, Johnson.”

“Thank you, sir.” Brian sat back down, gulping. His embarrassment was only made worse noticing that Y/N had turned around to look at him when he started speaking. He wasn’t so invisible now, just his luck.

*~~~~*

There was little to no surprise that Bender antagonized the group. His main targets seemed to be Claire and Andrew, but he was making snide or crude remarks to everyone, and this made Brian very uneasy. He hated conflict and confrontation, which was probably why he had brought a flare gun to school rather than talk to his Shop teacher about replacing his failing grade or talk to his parents about how much he was truly struggling. He tried to take his mom’s advice about just doing work. He tried to convince the others to just write their assigned essays and not end up in a fight, but it didn’t work. He reasoned that he could at least do the right thing, but he couldn’t help but keep getting drawn into their conversations. It was almost like watching a trashy soap opera...or a staged wrestling match. “Go to hell!” Claire screamed at Bender, and Brian looked nervously to the door. Vernon surely heard that and would come storming back in, right?

But he didn’t, so Andy continued their conversation and got in a new dig at Bender, “You know, Bender, you don’t even count. If you disappeared forever it wouldn’t make any difference. You may as well not even exist anymore.” Brian gulped, thinking about his recent and frequent thoughts about how he himself ‘may as well not even exist anymore.’ He was doing...okay since the day he had had a semi-plan to take his own life, but the feelings didn’t just stop. He was still failing Shop, of all classes. He was still a disappointment and burden to his parents. He was still invisible at school, to Y/N. None of that went away when Mr. Ryan found the gun in his locker. Bender turned Andrew’s comment around and said he’d go out and join some clubs.

Now, Brian saw his opportunity to be less invisible, maybe. “I’m in a math club!” He blurted out. No dice. Bender and Claire just continued bickering, ignoring him completely. But he couldn’t help it when he stated “I’m in the Physics Club, too,” in their direction just hoping, praying that someone would acknowledge him. He hadn’t counted on that person being Y/N, though. She’d turned slightly towards him and his blue eyes flickered to hers and he froze. Having been lost in the argument between the others, he had almost forgotten that she was there. She gave him a gentle smile and a nod that made him gulp. He’d suddenly failed to remember how to breathe, how to function and his mind was only filled with a channel of ‘Oh shit. She’s looking at me.’

But then she added, “I’m in the Drama Club.” Of course, he knew that, but it was still nice for her, of all people, to be making conversation with him. He was immediately forced to snap out of it, though, when Bender addressed him.

“Excuse me a sec. What are you babbling about?” While Brian hated the look John gave him (it was much too similar to his parents’ frustrated looks when he was clearly ‘bothering’ them with something), Brian felt compelled to answer. He had wanted to be noticed, to be involved in the conversation, right?

“Well, what I’d said was, I’m in the Math Club, the Latin Club, uh, and the Physics Clu-Physics Club,” he stumbled through his words nervously. He felt regret instantly as Bender turned it around as a slight on Claire, and also managed to insult him by calling him a dork in the process. Still, he yearned for his attention and approval, so he eagerly answered John’s follow up questions. He just wanted to get along with everyone and have them accept him, and even though John was just using his input as ammunition against Claire, he liked that he was at least being included.

*~~~~*

It was a long, dragging morning. It was only around 10AM and topics of conversation seemed to already run out. Everyone was now more or less keeping to themselves. At first, Brian thought about writing his essay, as he said he planned to, but why bother? There were still many hours to fill, and how was he possibly supposed to answer the prompt of Who Am I? He truly did not know. He’d actually been pondering that a lot lately. All of his life he was praised for his smarts, but the ‘real world’ was showing him that that didn’t mean jack shit. Sure, he could understand difficult concepts and dissect complex equations, but that meant nothing if he couldn’t apply it. He thought he was taking the easy way out with Shop. It was meant to be a class he didn’t have to worry about; a stress-free A to keep his GPA up while juggling various clubs and volunteer opportunities to put on his college applications next year. But it ended up being a total nightmare. He was absolutely terrible at it, and he had never failed at anything before. Now the burn-outs and underachievers had the upper hand and were able to make their projects work and look good and he had...nothing. He failed so miserably that it tanked his self-esteem and now he was stuck in an identity crisis. It was much too early on a Saturday to confront those demons, so instead he chose to sit and daydream. And subconsciously, as with many teenage boys, his attention fell to girls. As much as he thought Claire was self-centered and spoiled, he had to admit that she was attractive. She carefully curated herself to be so. She had perfect, beautiful red hair that was never out of place, flawless makeup, perfectly fitting chic clothes...and she was staring into space licking and biting her lip, which had him completely flustered. Y/N only added to it by adjusting and stretching in her seat. Her beauty was more effortless than Claire’s, or at least seemed less...intentional. She did not have the designer clothes and her hair was more natural than trendy but alluring in her own right, and the way she was pushing her chest out was not helping. He could feel the shift and tightness in his khakis and tried to nonchalantly clear his throat, but now Y/N was turned three-quarters around and could clearly see him, so he tried to sneak his hat into his lap and acted like nothing was going on by setting his head on the desk. ‘Oh shit. Oh fuck.’ were the chorus of his thoughts as he could see her quickly turn back around and face forward. ‘I’m sure she thinks I’m a creep now. Great going, Johnson,’ he chastised himself.

Vernon was almost a welcome sight when he strode into the library at 10:20 to allow them to use the “lavatory.” Brian almost let out a sigh of relief. Almost. When they returned to the library and it was clear that Vernon wouldn’t return for a while, Bender started ripping up a book and when he threw it at Brian, the latter took that as his cue to walk away. He spotted Y/N looking through the catalogue of books and approached her. “Hey.” He nodded in her direction, trying to play it cool and seem neutral. ‘Smooth. Great opening,’ he thought. But to his surprise, she actually said ‘Hi’ back and smiled. He had no idea what to talk about and didn’t really think this through, but the black-clad girl let out a startling, “HA!” that made them both jump.

Brain looked back to the others and heard Andrew sarcastically say, “Oh, you’re breaking my heart,” to Claire.

“Sporto?” Bender asked, “Do you get along with your parents?” Brian started to look between the two of them nervously.

“Well, if I say yes I’m an idiot right?” Andrew responded. Bender leapt over the ramp’s banister and started at the other boy.

“You’re an idiot anyway. But if you say you get along with your parents, then you’re a liar too.” Not only did Brian not like being involved in confrontation, he also hated being witness to it. As Andrew followed Bender, he felt compelled to go break it up, put a stop to this.

“You want me to turn it up?” Bender asked, flipping off Andrew as Brian stepped between them, placing a hand on one of each of their shoulders. They smacked his hands away, almost in sync and he withdrew, but he knew words could be just as powerful as actions.

“I, I don’t like my parents either. I don’t know. Their idea of parental compassion is just...whacko.” Brian confessed.

“Dork? You are a parent’s wet dream, okay?” Bender replied, clapping him on his shoulder. It was a friendly enough gesture, but it actually dealt a devastating blow. Brian knew he was a disappointment to his parents. He was being open and honest with the group and was shut down immediately anyway. “...face it, you're a neo-maxi-zoom-dweebie. What would you be out doing if you weren’t making yourself a better citizen?” Another hit. This one made Brian sink against one of the tables. He hung his head and didn’t even notice Y/N approach him until she softly placed her hand on his shoulder.

“You okay?” She offered, gazing into his eyes. He was terrified that she would be able to read him and to see the truth, to see the sad and scared kid he truly was inside. Instead, he stiffened up and sat rigidly, clearing his throat of emotion.

“Yeah, thanks.” He also tried his best to ignore that she was touching him. If he weren’t in detention being told he was the epitome of geek by John Bender, he’d have sworn this were a dream. Bender now moved his disdain to Claire, asking if she were a virgin. Y/N shifted uncomfortably away from Brian and crossed her arms over her chest, but still stood next to him, watching the same drama unfold. Bender and Andrew soon stood in front of them, fully in a heated argument and Bender took a swing. Brian didn’t think twice and reflexively shot his arm up to shield Y/N. Sure, his crush on her might be stupid or silly, but he was not about to let her get caught in this crossfire and get hurt. He watched as Andrew wrestled Bender to the floor and Bender said, “I don’t want to get into this with you, man...cuz I’d kill you.” Andrew let him up and they seemed to separate and cool down, so Brian finally moved his arm back down, assuming the danger towards Y/N was gone but he was on-guard still, ready to move again if he needed to. “It’s real simple. I’d kill you and then your fucking parents would sue me and it would be a big mess, and I don’t care about you enough to bother.” For some reason, this hit Brian hard and he had to look away, look down to escape. But then he heard a click and his head shot up. Bender had pulled out a switchblade. His eyes went wide and he looked cautiously at Y/N who looked just as shocked. They all relaxed a little when he stabbed it into a chair instead of Andrew’s flesh, but immediately panicked again when the door audibly unlatched and opened. They scrambled to get to their seats, Bender quickly striding to the front and sitting far away from Andy so as not to implicate himself. But that meant that he had stolen Y/N’s seat. On her original route to it, she diverted and sat quickly and silently next to Brian. He swallowed hard in response.

Instead of Vernon, Carl the janitor walked in. They collectively sighed with relief and he addressed Brian. “Brian, how ya doin’?” Brian quickly averted his eyes, both embarrassed to be seen here by Carl (he stayed late in many clubs and had built up a good rapport with the man and didn’t need him thinking less of him for being in detention) and by being seen as associated with him by his peers. Carl was a great guy, really funny and nice; accommodated every need each one of his clubs had...but Brian was still a teenager and image was everything and being thought of as ‘dweeb who is friends with the janitor’ was not how he wanted to be seen.

“Your dad work here?” Bender inquired, smirking deviously. Brian just shook his head in response and didn’t answer Carl, either. “Carl, can I ask you a question? How does one become a janitor?” Bender continued.

“You want to become a janitor?” Carl asked, knowing that Bender didn’t really want to know.

“No, I just want to know how one becomes one. Andrew here is very interested in pursuing a career in the custodial arts.” Bender glanced over at Andrew and smirked again, pleased with his implied put-down.

“Oh really? You guys think I’m some untouchable peasant, serf, peon? Maybe so. But following a broom around after shitheads like you for the last eight years, I’ve learned a couple of things.” Carl looked towards Brian and Y/N, “I look through your letters.” Brian thought he saw her stiffen and freeze, just a little bit, as if Carl were addressing her. She suddenly shifted away from Brian and he wasn’t sure what to make of that. “...I am the eyes and the ears of this institution, my friend.” Carl stopped and smiled, “By the way. That clock is twenty minutes fast.” Brian looked at it and then his watch, noting that he was right. He wasn’t sure if he should adjust his wrist piece or not; to go with the time on the wall or the time Vernon was keeping. But he couldn’t be bothered with the choice when Bender stood up and faced his table. He was afraid of what he might do or say to them, but he simply nodded towards Y/N’s seat, indicating that she could have it back.

“I’m good for now,” she said, surprising Brian. He assumed she would have moved back, a moment ago she moved away from him, but now she was looking at him out of the corner of her eye before glancing back up at John, who was raising an inquisitive eyebrow. “Thanks for not dicking with my stuff though,” she said.

“Oh, shit.” Bender said “Do you think I should steal something or has the moment passed?” The tension seemed to drop and they all smiled as he went back to his seat, but he turned his attention back their way. “So, you’ve been pretty quiet, what’s your name?” Brian had a bad habit of blurting out. He liked answering questions as it was, showing his knowledge. A lot of the time, it didn’t matter if he was being asked or not. So, without thinking, he responded to Bender’s question and told him Y/N’s name. It was a reflex, but one he instantly regretted, feeling like he just shot himself in the foot. Bender gave him a look and he steeled himself for his worst, for the mockery sure to come, but instead he just looked at her and followed up with “Is that true? Is that your name?”

She didn’t acknowledge his weirdness either. She simply nodded and told John, “Yeah, (Y/N). Or, I guess you could call me (Y/N/N) if you want,” and Brian let out a quiet shaky exhale in relief. That could have been...disastrous. After a moment, while Bender was otherwise occupied, she turned to him and said, “Thank you, for earlier. I mean, blocking me when those two were getting into it.” He felt his heart race; he wasn’t sure she had even noticed that earlier, even though he wasn’t exactly subtle.

“N-no problem.” He responded, trying to restrain the smile creeping up onto his face. He wanted to play it cool, like it was no big deal, like that’s just what manly men such as himself do: put themselves in harm’s way for others.

Vernon came in to dismiss them for lunch much too early for his liking. He didn’t really have much of a chance to talk to Y/N while she was sitting next to him, and as soon as they were allowed to mill about like the caged animals they currently were, the remaining members of their detention gravitated towards Bender near the center of the library. Brian was slightly disappointed when she wandered off into the stacks as Bender looked through books and Claire continued her daydreaming. Not really sure what to do with himself, Brian folded his long legs over one of the ramp railings and sat atop it, hunched over. He looked up when Bender called out, “Hey, Peachy!” There were a few moments of silence before Y/N looked back over in their direction and Brian froze, immediately disliking Bender addressing her as such and worrying what uncouth thing he might say to her. But he just asked her what she could be in detention for, because she didn’t seem the type, which Brian wholeheartedly agreed with. He waited intently for the answer, as every interaction he had with her (or every observation, rather), she seemed so...sweet.

“Oh. Well, you know how in Biology they dissect like, frogs and shit every year?” She looked a little defeated and a blush crept up her cheeks as she continued, “I---sort of stole and freed the frogs.” Brian couldn’t help but laugh. That seemed like something you shouldn’t get detention for, anyway, but it was definitely on-par with the personality he knew her for. He felt relieved that the reason aligned with how he thought of her. She was in here for something nice, and debatably, the right thing. His heart melted a little when she told Bender that she had researched enough to let the frogs go responsibly; that she would have adopted them if they wouldn’t have made it on their own and he couldn’t help but smile in her direction. Bender, of course, moved on quickly, scanning one of the books in his stack to find new material to talk about, to bother the girls with, but Brian’s gaze was still fixated on Y/N. She was running her fingers along spines of books, seemingly in her own world. He felt like maybe it was fated that they were both here, like he was getting a second chance. He still hadn’t really conjured up the courage to talk to her yet, but they were only half-way through their day; there was still time.

“Claire? Y/N? You wanna see a picture of a guy with elephantitis of the nuts?” Bender asked, “Pretty tasty. How do you think he rides a bike? Oh Claire, would you ever consider dating a guy like this?”

“Wait,” Y/N’s eyes lit up and she looked their way again. “Elephantiasis? Like the movie The Elephant Man? Great movie! Really sad though.” Brian grinned at the way she scrunched her eyebrows together in remembering the emotion from the movie. He had seen it, too. It was really good...and touching. Maybe that could be his ice-breaker. Movies were normal things that normal teenagers talked about, right? He didn’t really notice that Bender and Claire were still conversing until it implicated him, though.

“Oh! Watch what you say. Brian here is a cherry.” Brian looked at him, startled.

“A cherry?” He asked, indignantly, cheeks flaring up with a red hue. “I am not a cherry.” He didn’t need Bender calling him out like this, embarrassing him. He didn’t need the obvious association that the nerd was a virgin. Especially in front of beautiful girls, particularly Y/N. She didn’t need to know that he was an inexperienced loser.

“When have you ever gotten laid?” Bender asked, doubtfully

“I’ve laid lots of times.”

“Name ONE.” Bender said, sarcastically, hoping to catch him in a trap.

“She lives in Canada. Met her at Niagara Falls; You wouldn’t know her.” Brian said, prepared with this answer from previous conversations about this topic. It wasn’t the first time he’d been involved in a conversation about virginity that he couldn’t be entirely honest about, nor was it the first time he had been mocked for being a virgin or doubted about the non-existent relations that he didn’t have. Even though part of his brain felt like it was glaringly obvious to the outside world and must have been stamped on his forehead that girls did not typically talk to him, nor had he even kissed a girl before, but he still lied about it anyway. He knew he didn’t precisely have an ‘image’ to protect, but he didn’t want to seem like a total lost cause or dweeby stereotype.

Bender, however, wasn’t having it. “You ever lay anyone around here?” He scoffed and Brian panicked. He had noticed that Y/N had turned back to the aisle of books and was praying she wasn’t listening, and Claire didn’t seem to be paying attention, so he tried to gesture to Bender to keep it down, to let him off the hook before either girl noticed him or this conversation. Bender immediately twisted it around and attacked him with it, though. Brian felt his heart being squeezed and felt overwhelmed, instantly, as Bender said, “Oh. You and Claire did it.”

“Oh, uh I-Let’s just drop it, okay? We’ll talk about it later,” Brian attempted to get out of it again, praying that John would have one ounce of mercy on him. However, Brian was never really very lucky.

“Well, Brian is trying to tell me that in addition to the number of girls in the Niagara Falls area, that presently you and he are riding the hobby horse.” Brian’s eyes slammed shut in embarrassment.

“You little pig,” Claire growled at him and his eyes shot back open wide. He scrambled to defend himself.

“No! I’m not! John said I was a cherry and I said I wasn’t. That’s it. That’s all I said.”

“Well then what were you motioning to Claire for?” Bender followed up, not giving Brian any wiggle room.

“You know, I don’t appreciate this very much, Brian.” Claire sounded more disappointed and hurt than anything, which made Brian feel like a slug, instantly. He didn’t mean to implicate her or to bring her down. He was just trying to hide his embarrassment from John and the girls.

“He is lying!” Brian tried one last attempt to deflect.

“Oh, you weren’t motioning to Claire?”

“You know he’s lying, right?”

“Were you, or were you not motioning to Claire?” Brian hated this. He’d been stuffed in lockers before and yearned for that over the torture Bender was inflicting now. He couldn’t save face; either he was a disgusting creep saying he had had sex with Claire when he didn’t, or he’d have to tell them the truth and feel humiliated at telling everyone he was a virgin. He grit his teeth and chose to go with the latter.

“Yeah, but it was only- it was only because I didn’t want her to know I was a virgin, okay?” They looked almost...shocked by his response, which he wasn’t expecting. He thought it would be a ‘Well, duh, you’re a virgin, Johnson! Who would want to touch you?’ But Claire and Y/N looked surprised. “Excuse me for being a virgin, I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you want me to know you were a virgin?” Claire asked honestly, like it was no big deal. If she only knew...

“Because it’s personal business. It’s my personal, private business.”

“Well, Brian, it doesn’t sound like you’re doing any business,” Bender snuck in another jab and Brian was brought down to what he knew all along, that they were just going to laugh at him.

“I think it’s okay for a guy to be a virgin.” Claire’s unexpected response gave him instant relief. She was taking his side and Bender had no more ammo. Brian perked up even more when Y/N agreed with her. It wasn’t an embarrassing secret for him now because they didn’t mind. They almost seemed to admire him for it. The thought caused his lips to twitch and he hid his smile by leaning his head against his knee.

*~~~~*

During lunch, Bender didn’t have any food, so his appetite turned to targeting the rest of the detainees again. He started in on Claire for a bit, but then came over to taunt Brian. It seemed like it could be friendly, at first, as John just examined his lunch. But as he drew out each item, his tone became more and more sarcastic. “Here’s my impression of life at Big Bri’s house.” Bender went on to mock him, painting his life like it was some episode of Leave It To Beaver where the family would all hug it out at the end. Brian’s throat became dry and he could feel eyes on both Bender and himself, trying to judge his reactions to John’s farce. He hated being such an easy target. He hadn’t done anything towards John personally, but he was still constantly in the hot seat because John could get away with it and the others would laugh and enjoy it. At least Andy fought back...even Claire did. And Bender didn’t even really bother to mess with Allison. She had an aura of ‘don’t fuck with me,’ and he didn’t even touch her as a subject, even though she was just as odd and out of place as Brian. Not to mention, he was wrong. It wasn’t all peachy-keen happy endings at Brian’s house. If it were, Brian wouldn’t be here today.

Still, it was hard not to be drawn in by John, and he watched his next dramatic retelling of his own home life in stunned horror. John’s dad called him terrible names in this act and hit him. “Is that for real?” Brian asked, brows furrowed. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe John, it was just that...well, the situation sucked and he needed to be told it wasn’t true. Like a kid hearing that a ghost story was made up and there was nothing to fear. But he knew by John’s pained expression that it was, even before he spoke.

“Wanna come over some time?” Bender asked him and he flinched away. Andrew didn’t believe him though, and questioned it so John revealed to them all his very real cigar burn scar on his arm, claiming he got it from spilling paint in the garage. The group collectively flinched and no one moved for a few moments while Bender said, “I don’t need to sit with you fuckin’ dildos anymore,” and raged through the library.

“You shouldn’t have said that,” Claire admonished Andrew.

“How would I know? I mean he lies about everything anyway.”

“That doesn’t make it okay.” Y/N snapped at him and looked back towards Bender as though she wanted to follow him. Brian tried to will her silently not to; he didn’t really trust that Bender would control his emotions and she might get hurt. He felt relieved when she turned around, but then his heart began pounding once more as she gathered her lunch into the sack and stood up. ‘No, don’t do it, Y/N.’ He stared at her, but she didn’t seem to notice as she cautiously walked past and crept up the library stairs to where Bender was and sat next to him. Brian felt a little calmed when Bender didn’t lash out; he just rolled his eyes but stayed rooted to the spot. Meanwhile, the rest of the group at their lunch in silence.

*~~~~*

Brian felt guilty for leaving Bender behind, for allowing him to sacrifice himself for the group. Hell, they all did. Especially when Vernon started shoving him around and saying he was going to be in jail. Brian couldn’t help but wonder if he could become like John. It’s not like he was born into that life. But he had it tough at home, struggled at school, and had problems with authority (particularly when they lied). Brian could see some parallels. He, too, was unhappy at home. While his parents didn’t beat him like John’s did him, or berate him to the same degree, he couldn’t help but feel like a disappointment. And he felt like he was just slipping. Now he had broken school rules, brought a gun to school, watched as others destroyed school property, and was gaining a healthy distrust of authority by seeing how Vernon acted today. He’d even corrected him once, when counting Bender’s detentions, not that the truth seemed to matter to Vernon anyway. What if he continued down this path? What if things just kept getting worse at home? Would it really be that bad to be like Bender? Despite being a total jerkwad, he had the charisma to draw people in. He’d even had Y/N eat lunch with him! It just didn’t seem like the deal was all bad when he looked at it that way. ‘What’s next? Are you going to take up smoking?’ His brain scolded him, even though he had completely forgotten that he had drugs stashed in his pants right now...until Bender fell through the ceiling and asked for them back. He dug them uncomfortably out of his underwear and handed the bag over. Bender took off to smoke in the library and Brian realized he had a choice to make. Boy, was he tempted. ‘What’s one more rule broken today?’ He felt more emboldened when Claire stood up and followed John. Andrew tried to talk him out of it, shaking his head. Brian drummed his hands on the desk. He wasn’t sure he’d have another opportunity. Most of his friends and acquaintances didn’t do drugs...to his knowledge, anyway. He thought momentarily about his cousin Kendall, and how he started smoking pot and didn’t feel like he belonged anywhere. ‘You already don’t feel like you belong anywhere,’ His mind reminded him, and with that, the decision was made; what did he have to lose? So he slunk off to join Bender and Claire.

It was...definitely a different experience. Brian didn’t care for the way his thoughts seemed so disjointed, that he couldn’t keep one train of thought going. For someone who was known for his intelligence and felt like his brain was his one good quality, it was a little scary to have that slip away. But, there was a sort of numbness that came with the drug that made him worry less about that. He felt less worried and anxious in general, actually. His focus was being pulled in too many directions to wonder what his parents would think or if he was saying the right thing, or if this could even be a mistake. He felt relaxed and oddly open. He was even making Bender and Claire laugh, which he hadn’t expected. It was like there was a new persona underneath that was unlocked. He didn’t know what he was doing, but it wasn’t the worst thing ever. He was, however, surprised by how long the effects lasted. It was a little more than an hour later and the whole group was sitting in a circle (Y/N and Allison never seemed to have joined them in the marijuana. Not that he had noticed, anyway) and Allison was telling the group that she was a nymphomaniac, which was exciting. Particularly to someone with zero experience, to hear someone claim she’d done ‘almost everything’ was utterly fascinating. However, his head was still swimming and he seemed to have a lack of filter between his brain and his mouth. He couldn’t catch his words fast enough, which was often a problem for him sober, but now it wasn’t just supplying corrections or information, the more cruel thoughts slipped through, too.

“Obviously she’s crazy if she’s screwing her shrink,” he added to the group without even thinking. Y/N was sitting to his right and promptly hit him on the arm with the back of her hand.

“Brian!” She hissed and gave him a glare. ‘Oh shit. Did I say that out loud?’ He thought, looking at her with wide-eyed fear. The realization sobered him up pretty quickly and he was much more in control of his thoughts and words after that. Despite the weed taking away most of his worries, he still cared how she perceived him. From then on, he was more focused on the conversations in front of him and how he added to them, but it was harder to control his emotions when Andrew began telling them about why he was here today.

“You guys know what I did to get in here today? I taped Larry Lester’s buns together.” Andy said, with a hint of a smile. ‘How can he just smirk like that? He has to know it was a shitty thing to do and that he hurt Larry.’ Brian thought. He knew Larry had been attacked this week by one of the sports, but he didn’t know who. Larry didn’t even know the kid’s name, had never talked to him, but still got jumped anyway. An experience that Brian was all too familiar with.

“That was you?” Brian asked, somewhat surprised, but started to get angry.

“You know him?”

“Yeah, I know him.” He said quietly, trying not to let the anger bubble past the surface.

He had to bite his tongue when Andy made Larry into a joke, “Then you know how hairy he is right?” Bender and Claire chuckled at his joke, at him bullying one of Brian’s friends. ‘I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything different,’ Brian thought dejectedly. But he was hoping that they were all better people than...this. The realization that they weren’t better than that, coupled with Andrew expressing his feelings about his father got Brian thinking. “I...hate him. He’s like this mindless machine that I can’t even relate to anymore.” Brian felt so disconnected from his parents, too, even though the rest of the group thought they lived in a fairytale. He was their pride and joy once, but it felt like ever since he started high school, he just wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t a good enough student, he didn’t do his chores right, he wasn’t setting himself up for college correctly, he wasn’t a good role model or brother to his sister...it all just added up and weighed on him immensely. He covered his face with one of his hands to hide his emotion and expression from the group. He didn’t even react when Andrew started screaming what his father had told him, but when everything settled down, he took the chance to speak.

“That’s like me, you know, with my grades. Like, when I step outside myself. A-and I look in on myself...and-and I see me, I don’t like what I see,” it was a difficult thing to admit but after what Allison and Andrew shared, he felt like maybe this could be the space to do so, too.

“What’s wrong with you? Why don’t you like yourself?” Claire asked. He knew it was meant to be nice, encouraging even, but it just made him feel worse. This beautiful, popular, and rich girl asking someone why they weren’t happy with themselves? Like she could have any sort of clue. No wonder it baffled her; she had everything. But he could also see Y/N nodding vigorously, agreeing with Claire. He didn’t want to put her on the same plane as Claire, he felt like she would be above that. But she clearly didn’t understand the way he felt, either. That just made him feel more alone.

“It’s stupid, but,” Brian said, “because I’m failing shop. We had this assignment to make this, uh, ceramic elephant. Anyways we were supposed to-it was, it was a lamp. When you pulled the trunk, the light was supposed to go on. But my light didn’t go on. I got an F on it. I’ve never got an F in my life. When I signed up, y’know, for the course, I thought I was playing it smart. I was, uh, ‘I’ll take Shop, it’s an easy way to maintain my grade point average.’”

“Why’d you think it would be easy?” Bender chimed in, not making eye contact. Brian had been lost in his own thoughts and his story and not looking at the group either, really. He had wanted to be honest, but he was also embarrassed. Honesty would have been hard to maintain if he was looking at them and seeing their judgments in real time.

“Have you seen some of the dopes that take Shop?” Brian asked, not realizing it would strike a nerve.

“I take Shop.” Bender responded, now turning his eyes to him, “You must be a fucking idiot.”

“I’m a fucking idiot because I can’t make a lamp?” Brian snapped defensively. He should have known it would be a mistake to put himself on the line like this, to open himself up to their judgement. He knew Bender was lashing out because he was insulted, but that didn’t make his jibes hurt any less.

“No, you’re a genius because you can’t make a lamp.” Bender shot back, sarcastically.

“What do you know about Trigonometry?” Brian fought back.

“I could care less about Trigonometry.”

“Bender, there’s no engineering without trigonometry.”

“Without lamps, there’d be no light.” Bender replied grumpily, grasping at straws for a fair comparison.

“Okay, so neither one of you is any better than the other one,” Claire jumped in. Before either of them responded, Allison added her own odd addition.

“I can write with my toes!” Both Bender and Brian looked at her incredulously, but she did calm the two of them down and add levity to the moment.

“I can make spaghetti!” Brian said cheerfully after a moment. Y/N smiled at him and his heart fluttered. He returned the smile and for a moment, forgot all about his blunder. Maybe that smile had given him the courage to participate again, to be open and vulnerable. Claire and Bender began fighting again, which wasn’t a surprise, but it opened a door for Brian to ask what had been weighing on his mind since their circle began. He felt like they had all bonded. They had told each other some of their deepest secrets and biggest pains, but did that really make them friends? “I know it’s kind of a weird time, but you know, I was just wondering...what’s going to happen to us on Monday? I mean, I consider you guys my friends,” he continued, looking around the circle, “I’m not wrong, am I?”

“No,” Andy reassured him. So, he wasn’t imagining it, they felt like friends, too.

“So on Monday, what happens?”

“Are we still friends, you mean? If we’re friends now?” Claire asked.

“Yeah.”

“You want the truth?” Claire couldn’t meet his eye, and Brian knew from the question she posed, he really didn’t want the truth. He knew what was coming, but he continued anyway.

“Yeah, I want the truth.”

“I don’t think so.” Claire responded and he somehow still wasn’t prepared for the blow. It still hit him hard, causing a squeezing pain in his chest and he looked away, clenching his jaw to hold the tears back that were welling in his eyes.

“With all of us,” Allison asked, “or just John?”

“With all of you,” Claire confirmed, looking away from the group.

“That’s a real nice attitude, Claire,” Andrew said gruffly.

“Oh, be honest, Andy,” Claire groaned, “If Brian came up to you in the hall on Monday, what would you do? Picture it, you’re with all the sports.” Brian glanced up at his name and looked at Andy hopefully. In his heart, he knew Claire was probably right, but he wanted to believe that Andrew was really his friend, that they all were. “You know exactly what you’d do. You’d say hi to him and then you’d laugh and cut him all up so your friends wouldn’t think you actually like him.”

“No way.” Andy denied, and that gave Brian a glimmer of hope, one he so desperately wanted to believe.

“What if I came up to you?” Allison asked.

“Same exact thing.”

“You are a bitch!” Bender yelled at Claire.

“Why?! Because I’m telling the truth? That makes me a bitch?”

“No. Cuz you know how shitty that is to do to someone and you don’t have the balls to stand up to your friends and tell them you’re gonna like who you wanna like…” Bender continued berating Claire, but Brian now started to fail to hold back the tears that had been threatening so long to fall. He didn’t make eye contact with anyone in the group and tried to quickly wipe the tear away, hoping no one was paying attention to him; that they couldn’t see how they had impacted him. But he still felt eyes on him, particularly when he wiped the next tear away. He let Claire and Bender’s argument surround him. They called each other out, that neither would associate with him or Allison, that their image was too important to protect to reach out. It was a story that Brian had lived all of his life. ‘How could I think that one day would change everything?’ He thought, pitifully.

“So I assume Allison, Y/N, and I are better people than you? Us weirdos?” Brian interjected when Claire and Bender were silently fuming from their spat. “You, would you do that to me?” He asked Allison.

“I don’t have any friends,” she replied, which made Brian smile a little, even though he rolled his eyes some.

“Okay, but if you did?” He let out a light chuckle, urging her to answer.

“No. I don’t think the kind of friends that I’d have would mind,” Allison replied and Brian nodded, then steeled himself to turn to Y/N and ask the same question. He saw her quickly swipe at her face with her sleeves and realized, suddenly, that she had been crying too. He wasn’t sure why; she had been very quiet through this whole exchange, but maybe that was because it hit home hard for her, too. He felt a painful pang in his chest, both from seeing her tears and from fearing the possibility of her answer. He had spent the day hoping that this was a second chance, that he could get to know her. This was a bold move and would tell him if there was even a chance or not; and he feared the ‘not.' She locked eyes with him and he gulped, petrified to dive in but knowing he had to.

“What about you, Y/N?” He asked, quietly. It felt like the question hung in the air for an agonizing eternity, even though she answered right away. Time worked differently when you were waiting to hear if your world was going to be shattered.

“I would be honored to be your friend,” she replied with a shaking voice. Even though it was strained, it filled him with instant relief. He believed her as he had believed Allison and nodded, biting his lip.

“I just want to tell, each of you, that I wouldn’t do that,” he turned to the group,” I wouldn’t and I will not. Because I think it’s real shitty.”

“Your friends wouldn’t mind because they look up to us.” Claire told him and he couldn’t help but laugh derisively in response. Next to him, he heard Y/N give a sort of squeak but figured that it carried the same disbelief towards Claire as his gesture did.

“You’re so conceited, Claire. You’re so conceited. You’re like, so full of yourself. Why are you like that?” Brian noticed the tears falling again and swiped them away. He didn’t want Claire to think she wounded him, that she had the upper hand. While it stung to have all of his beliefs about how the popular kids perceived him and his friends confirmed, that wasn’t what really was bothering him. It was more that it reminded him that he was invisible, he didn’t matter, which was exactly why he was here today.

“I’m not saying that to be conceited. I hate it. I hate having to go along with everything my friends say.”

“Then why do you do it?”

“I don’t- I don’t know,” Claire sighed, and Brian noticed that she was drying her own tears. He didn’t necessarily like having caused them, but it was nice to know she was still human, that she was feeling the way he was, too. “You don’t understand, You’re not friends with the same kind of people Andy and I are friends with, you know? You just don’t understand the kind of pressure that they can put on you.” That, however, lit a fire within Brian. ‘Pressure from other assholes is so important? Try your own parents, Claire.’

“I don’t understand what?” Brian began, gesturing towards himself and planting his fingers into his chest. It relieved some of the dull ache there. “You think I don’t understand pressure, Claire? Well, fuck you! Fuck you!” ‘Also, fuck ‘bravery’ or saving face,’ Brian broke down into sobs in his elbow before calling out from his hiding spot, “do you know why I’m here today? Do you?!” He sat up to look at the group, the people he considered friends, to share his pain with them. “I’m here...because Mr. Ryan found a gun in my locker.” The words turned thick as they left his mouth and took on a life of their own. His eyes darted quickly around the circle, noting Claire’s dropped jaw, Allison’s tearful eyes that couldn’t meet his own, the way Andrew looked away and Bender seemed to know how he had felt, but also how he was surprised that Brian had the balls to do such a thing, and finally...tears silently and consistently slipping down Y/N’s face.

“What’s the gun for?” Andrew asked, interrupting Brian’s thoughts.

“I tried. You pull the fuckin’--trunk and the light’s supposed to go on and it didn’t go on, you know?” ‘You’ve said too much. They all thought you were a weirdo, now they think you’re a psychotic weirdo.’ “Forget it. Just--forget it,” he said in an attempt to brush it off, as if everything could go back to normal with the bombshell he just dropped on them.

“You brought it up, man,” Andrew insisted.

“I can’t have an F. I can’t have it and I know my parents can’t. Even if I aced the rest of the semester, it would only be a B. I’m ruined.”

“Brian…” Claire started, but there was nothing she could say to make this alright. ‘You’re a failure, Brian, and now you’ve become a freakshow. Look at her pity,’ his brain taunted him and he lashed out to hit the stool on his right, not even thinking about it until Y/N jumped up in her seated position, startled. The last thing he would want to do is hurt or scare her. ‘Shit, great. Another fuck up.’

“Sorry,” he mumbled in her direction before setting his head on his knee and continuing with his story from before, “Just considering my options, you know?”

“No, killing yourself is never an option!” Claire yelled at him, which made him scoff.

“Well I didn’t do it, did I? No, I didn’t think so.” ‘She really just doesn’t get it, does she? She still can’t picture why I’d want to--’

“It was a handgun?” Allison asked

“A flare gun. It blew up in my locker.” Brian sighed, but then he heard Andrew start to laugh. “It’s not funny.” Brian asserted. Andrew tried to clear his throat to stop laughing, but he couldn’t and Brian bit his lip and smiled in realization, “Yeah, it is.” The laughter was contagious...and better than crying. “Fucking elephant was destroyed.”

“You know what I did to get in here?” Allison asked the group, and Brian almost feared her answer. “Nothing. I didn’t have anything better to do.” That completely brightened the mood and Brian fell over laughing. It seemed like he was forgiven and that no one here was judging him for the failed lamp or the gun nor would they tell anybody about it. They...they had accepted him in the end after all.

*~~~~*

“...we trust you.” Claire was trying to talk him into writing one essay to cover all of them, and she was using flattery. Lucky for her, it worked. He looked down the row to seek approval from the others and they all nodded. But he liked knowing that they thought he was the smartest and the most capable, that they trusted his words would win over Vernon in a way that they wouldn’t be punished for not doing their own essays. It was a big task and a lot to entrust to him, so he took pride in fulfilling it. Claire took the other girls with her somewhere and it was just Andrew and him sitting silently in the library, so he decided to get to work. Andrew was just lurking about, playing with his jewelry, but he wasn’t a distraction. However, Allison passing by looking completely different was. Brian looked up, shocked that this was the same person he had spent all day with. Her hair was away from her face and he could actually see her brown eyes and she was wearing...white, the opposite of all of the layers of black before. He caught her glare at him staring at her so he tried to give her a reassuring smile, that it was a good look for her. She said, “thank you,” and moved on toward Andrew. Brian turned back to his essay and finished the last couple of lines, not noticing Y/N approaching behind him. If he had, he probably wouldn’t have kissed the essay or given himself a ‘good job’ punch in the arm.

He sat up in startled revelation when she spoke, “That good, huh?” He realized she had just seen everything. He had never felt more like a dork in his life and a blush crept up into his cheeks.

“Uh...yeah, I-I guess. I mean, do you want to read it?” He asked as she started to pull back the chair next to him to sit down.

“If you want me to, but I trust you.” She took her seat and placed her arm gently on his forearm. ‘Holy shit. She is touching me! She’s looking at me. What do I even say? Do I acknowledge the touch or do I just--’ “I’m impressed that you came up with something so quickly though.” Brian felt pride bubble up within him, knowing that she noticed...no, she was impressed by him. He cocked his head and looked at her sideways, trying to figure her out. She quickly looked away and pulled her hand back, now fiddling with her sleeves. ‘Is she...nervous?’ He thought, trying to decode her reaction. “So, um…you said earlier that you were in the Math Club? Um, I mean, if you have the time, do you think you could tutor me? I’m like totally lost in Clarkson’s class.”

He blinked. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t exactly that. Not that he would say no to spending more time with her. He had wanted that second chance, after all. “Yeah, no, I could do that,” he told her and watched as she twisted away and looked behind her, grabbing paper off of Allison’s desk. She leaned back forward and reached for his pen in front of him. She was actually close enough now that he could smell her shampoo and his body threatened to turn into jello on the spot.

“Here...is...my...phone number.” She said as she wrote it out on the paper and handed it to him. “Call me so we can set something up?” She looked up at him and knocked the breath right out of his lungs.

“You--You want me to call you?” He asked with raised eyebrows, wholly surprised by the request. He’d not only not kissed a girl, but one had never given him her phone number before.

“Yeah.” She smiled at him and his heartbeat picked up even faster, if that was possible. She cleared her throat and nodded towards Andrew and Allison. “So, those two, huh? Unexpected, right?”

“Oh. Yeah.” He was suddenly hurtled back to Earth, to reality. “Definitely. Wait, where’s Claire?”

“She...she said she was going to go ‘check on’ Bender.”

“Wow. So them, too.” ‘Everyone is coupling up maybe we should--’ he interrupted his own thought and shot it down. All he could say was, “That’s really...weird.”

*~~~~*

After they were finally released and Brian left his essay on the desk for Vernon to collect, and hopefully reflect upon, they all walked out together. It made sense as they all had to go to the main entrance, but there was a feeling of solidarity within it that made Brian think that the members of what he dubbed The Breakfast Club would continue their friendship come Monday.

Allison and Andrew branched off together, as did Claire and John. Brian looked quickly at Y/N as she walked down the steps with him. His dad was there to pick him up, which he was thankful for. His mom would definitely notice him walking with a girl and have a million questions and a lengthy lecture lined up, but his dad would barely notice, much less think anything of it. He reached for the door handle as Y/N was about to depart, but then she called his name, “Hey Brian,” he looked up, not sure what else she could possibly have to say, especially since they had been silent while the couples had veered off. “See you Monday.” She reminded him and gave him a small smile. He gave a grin in return.

“Yeah. I’ll talk to you on Monday.” He replied, beginning to get into the car, her phone number burning a hole in his pocket. For the first time in a long time, he was actually looking forward to another week school.

Tags:

@criminalwipes

[spooderboyandtincan]

You’re Gonna Miss Me

(When I’m Gone)

Read on Ao3

/ST*RKERS DNI/

~~~~~

Tony doesn’t know why he’s so nervous.

That’s a lie. Utter bullshit. He’s lying to himself. Tony knows exactly why his heart is fluttering in his chest like he’d run a marathon, why his chest struggled to rise like there was twenty pound weight rested on it. 

Though to be fair, when he made an anonymous donation of a meager 50,000 dollars to Midtown Science and Technology, he hadn’t expected Peter’s decathlon team to put in a request to the school board to travel abroad, and he definitely hadn’t expected the school to immediately approve it. He thought they’d use it to replace the sudsy water in the bathrooms they called soap with the real stuff or some shit, not whisk his kid away to Vienna for a whole week where Tony couldn’t even hug him, couldn’t protect him. 

Peter is thrilled, though. Ecstatic. When he’d broken the news to Tony and May, he’d been over the moon with excitement, his round cheeks flushed pink and his eyes gleaming. Even two weeks ago, Tony had felt a deep sense of apprehension kindling in his chest, but with the date seemingly so far away, he’d pushed it to the back of his mind. 

He wishes now that he’d done something. He should have told Peter he couldn’t bear to be without him like he was an actor in a cheesy soap opera (it was true, he couldn’t); tell Peter he needed him on a “mission” that would mysteriously be canceled. Though they’d probably end up taking a plane or a suit to Vienna anyways (despite what he liked to say to Rhodey, he was not at all immune to Peter’s puppy eyes); hell, he should have purposely tripped on the stairs and broken his leg so Peter, sweet, kind, empathetic Peter, would immediately decide to stay by his side where Tony could keep him safe.

He missed Peter when he was at his apartment in fucking Queens, thirty minutes from Stark Tower. He didn’t know how he’d handle having him 4,222 miles away. He didn’t know if he could.

“Damn,” he hisses, pushing himself from his bed with a grunt and making a beeline towards Peter’s room. He dashes in. The sight of his sleeping son (read: lump of blankets) is enough to take his breath away.

Tony had missed him. It had been four hours since he’d tucked him in and kissed him goodnight, and Tony had missed him. Peter was fifteen feet away. 

This trip is going to be the death of him. He’s going to drop dead of a goddamn heart attack before Peter even gets on the plane. 

Tony sinks carefully onto the mattress and rests his hand on the boy’s neck, some deep, parental instinct in him immediately soothed by the slow, steady beat of his pulse. Peter is curled under the thick blue blanket, only his chestnut curls visible which are tinged blue from the Iron Man nightlight on the wall, his breath puffing out in those little snuffling snores that Tony absolutely adores. 

He leans down to kiss his temple, inhales the familiar scent of his favorite strawberry shampoo and is overwhelmed by the wave of infinite love that washes over him. He loves this kid so much it sometimes hurts. 

Leaning back, he smooths his thumb over Peter’s cheekbone. He doesn’t want to leave the boy’s side. He doesn’t know if he physically can. Maybe asleep Peter has somehow sensed this, because there’s a small mewl from the bundle of blankets, and two bleary doe eyes flutter open. 

“T’ny?”

“Hey,” Tony whispers, running a hand through his curls. “Hey, jellybean. Sorry I woke you up.” Peter rolls over with heavy limbs and rubs his eyes with a fist in a childlike motion, yawning in a way that resembles all those yawning kitten videos he’s made Tony watch. 

God, he’s adorable, Tony thinks. His heart is melting. He’s so small, so young. Tony feels an instinctual, almost uncontrollable urge to protect this kid, to wrap him in his arms and keep him from harm for the rest of time. 

Peter is oblivious. “‘S… s’okay,” he mumbles. His hand sneaks out of the blankets and tugs on his arm lethargically, which the genius knows is sleepy Peter language for “cuddle with me.” Tony chuckles fondly and slides under the covers.

He props himself up on an elbow and gazes down at his beloved boy, stroking a finger down his cheek. Peter smiles sleepily up at him from his assortment of pillows. “Hi.”

His face splits into a wide grin. “Hi, Pete.” 

Peter frowns at him then, a sudden change from his drowsy, half-asleep state. “You… you ‘kay? Wha’ time’s it?” He tries to sit up, but Tony hushes him gently with a “Everything’s okay, bud, just a typical 2am visit from your friendly neighborhood Iron Man.”

He smiles, so Tony counts the joke as a win. It’s not one of his best, but hey, forgive him if he’s a little anxious about his kid going to another fucking continent. 

(He refuses to acknowledge that it’s not just being away from Peter that’s stressing him out, it’s the fact that anything could happen to him while they’re apart.)

Tony looks back to Peter, opening his mouth to talk, only to find that he’s completely conked out. He balls up the sleeve of his sweatshirt and wipes the line of drool tracing down the boy’s chin away, finding that a soft smile has formed on his face, the one that only makes its appearance around Peter.

Peter snuggles into him the second he lies down, resting his curly head just over his heart. Tony wraps a protective arm around his back and rubs small circles on his soft blanket hoodie. “G’night,” he whispers, bending to kiss the top of his head. “Sweet dreams, baby. I love you.”

He can feel Peter’s heartbeat thumping steadily against his chest- can hear his soft kitten snores. The warm weight of his body is so comforting that for a moment he thinks that maybe, just maybe, this trip isn’t going to be the end of him. That everything’s going to be okay.

~~~~~

Peter’s starting to regret eating all those waffles for breakfast. He feels shaky all over, like he could collapse or throw up any second. He’d told Tony he was going to pop in the bathroom, but he’s been in there for at least ten minutes, settled back on his heels on the cold, grimy floor of an airport bathroom, trying to breathe properly.

Speaking of Tony, he can hear the man just outside the door, typing on his phone and sipping from a cheap cup of coffee. Peter immediately experiences a hot flash of guilt, realizing that he must have grown worried while he was gone. 

Sure enough, the door swings open and there’s a soft knock. “Pete? Everything okay, bud?”

Peter stands up and unlocks the stall. “Tony,” he sniffles, taking an unsteady step forward. Tony rushes forward and gathers him in his arms

“Whoa, hey, hey, you’re okay,” he says gently, rubbing a hand up and down his back. “You’re okay, Pete. Breathe, just breathe, bud. It’s okay.”

“I don’t-” Peter whispers. “I don’t know, Tony, I-I wanna go, but I can’t, I don’t know w-what to do.” 

“Breathe, honey. It’s okay, I’m here, we’ll figure this out, okay? You just gotta take a breath, alright?” 

Peter tries- fails. Tries again, and manages to gasp a breath in. “Sorry,” he croaks, when he can properly breathe again. “Tony, I-I don’t-”

“It’s okay,” Tony murmurs, squeezing him tight. “Nothing to be sorry for, Pete.” After snatching a paper towel and soaking it in the sink, he runs the scratchy cloth over Peter’s face and kisses his forehead when he’s done. “Okay, bubba. You wanna go back out or stay in here?”

“Out,” he replies without hesitation. The flickering white lights above are starting to give him a headache, not to mention the leaky faucet and the freezing tile floors and the faulty air conditioning. Tony leads him out with an arm around his shoulder and guides him to a little nook, where they both plop down on a neon green beanbag. 

“My parents died in a plane crash,” Peter whispers. 

Tony squeezes his shoulder. “I know buddy. I’m sorry.” Unlike a lot of the “sorries” Peter has heard, this one is sincere. Sometimes he forgets that Tony is an orphan too. 

“I- I mean, logically, I know the plane won’t crash,” he continues, “But I guess it’s still hard for me to believe that. Like a- a gut feeling?”

The man nods in understanding. “I know how you feel, kiddo. I was terrified of cars after my parents died- I took the subway everywhere despite the paparazzi bloodhounds.” Tony doesn’t broach the subject of his parent’s deaths often, especially not in a crowded public airport, so Peter makes sure to pay attention. 

“Then, the fear just kinda… vanished.” He wiggles his fingers dramatically. “I started driving without even thinking, didn’t realize I was in a car ‘til I got on the highway. I had to pull over when I did, but since then, I’m perfectly fine with cruisin’ at 80 mph. But,” he says seriously, meeting Peter’s eyes. “I think you should listen to what your gut’s tellin’ you, buddy. It’s important to listen to yourself- what inner you is saying.” He pokes Peter’s belly a couple times for good measure, which makes his face scrunch up adorably. 

Peter nods, and really tries to listen to his gut. The pair both go silent in concentration, and then- his stomach grumbles. They both burst into laughter, born more from nerves than hilarity.

“Inner you wants to eat,” Tony snorts. “I think I saw a place with the biggest blueberry muffins of my life by the escalators, wanna stop there?”

Despite eating a huge stack of waffles just hours earlier, Peter wolfs down two of the gigantic blueberry poppyseed muffins, much to the amusement of Tony.

They made their way to the gate, where Peter’s teacher, Mr. Harrington was lounging, dressed in an ugly red sweater, his long legs stretched in front of him. 

“Peter!” he cried as he spotted them, scrambling to his feet. “Thank god, I was beginning to think I had the wrong date! We’re leaving today, right?”

“Oh, yeah Mr. Harrington, we’re going today!” Peter laughs. He’s used to dealing with his scatter-brained teacher. “I’m actually here early, the plane’s supposed to leave at 1:00.” He gestures vaguely to the big digital clock over his head reading 11:54 AM, EDT. 

Mr. Harrington frowns. “I thought it left at 8 am! You mean I’ve been here for hours in this awful chair when I could have been sipping a piña colada in my jacuzzi?!” He collapses back in his chair and pulls a sleeping mask over his eyes with a sigh.

“Sorry, Mr. Harrington,” Peter chuckles, then pulls Tony to a row of uncomfortable seats in the corner of the waiting area. 

They sit in comfortable silence for a bit, just watching the various travellers rush past. A little girl, around two or three, comes up and shyly asks for Tony’s autograph, but no one else recognizes the genius. (Thanks to his foolproof disguise of a baseball cap and scarf covering up his iconic beard, the genius claims.)

“So, what are we thinking?” Tony asks after about half an hour. “Do you wanna go?” He secretly hopes Peter will say no, hopes that they can go home and binge watch all of the Star Trek episodes and fill their bodies with junk. 

Peter nods hesitantly. “I think so. I-is that okay? I might change my mind, but- yes. Yeah, I think I want to go.”

 Tony squeezes his hand. “Of course it’s okay baby, that’s perfectly fine. If you change your mind, you know what? That’s great too. Whatever you want, that’s what’s important.” He kisses Peter’s forehead and lets his hand linger for a moment where it rests on the boy’s cheek. “If you change your mind at any point, I’ll come pick you up, okay?”

“Thanks, Tony,” Peter breathes, slumping heavily against his side.

“Of course, bud. Anything for my Peter.” 

They stop for lunch at a cozy little coffee shop, which is thankfully devoid of fans and paparazzi. Peter orders (or rather, makes Tony order) a small hot chocolate (with extra marshmallows and whipped cream) even though drinking a lot before a non-stop ten hour flight is probably not the best idea. (He can’t help it. He’s nervous.)

When the pair gets back to their gate, they find Ned and his family. The boy’s greet each other enthusiastically, performing their signature handshake, while Tony simply throws up a peace sign to Ned’s rather stunned parents. 

The friends pull out their phones -probably playing one of those ghastly animated games that Peter is always quoting. Tony pretends to look busy on his phone, but really, he’s just trying to distract himself from the terrifying fact that he’s not going to see Peter for a week.

Too soon, the speaker crackles, a crisp voice announcing, “Attention. We are now boarding flight 367 nonstop to Vienna, Austria. Now boarding flight 367 nonstop to Vienna, Austria.”

Tony’s heart stops. Peter freezes. 

No, they think at the same time. Not yet. 

Peter turns to Tony, panicked. “Hey,” the man says, pushing away every anxiety, every worry away so he can focus on his kid. He sees Ned approach them, but stop when his father places a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. Breathe, baby, it’s okay.” 

“Tony.” Peter wraps his skinny arms around his waist. 

“I know, baby, I know.” Tony kisses the top of his head and hugs him close. “Follow my breathing. You’re okay. We’re good.”

Around them, the members of the decathlon team are rising, but Tony and Peter sit in those unforgettable chairs, clutching each other tightly, not yet ready to let go. 

“I’m gonna miss you,” Peter whimpers. 

“I know kiddo, me too. I’m gonna miss you so much, but I’m always gonna be here, okay? If you need me, just call, or text, use morse code, doesn’t matter. I’m always here for you.”

“I’m here for you too,” Peter says. “I- I’ll call you every day.” Peter’s bottom lip is trembling, just barely, but enough for Tony to hug him a little tighter and kiss his forehead. “I love you, Tony,” he sniffs.

“I love you too, Pete. I love you so much.” Tony’s not crying. He’s not. The restaurant a few stores down is just cooking onions, that’s why his eyes are watering. 

Peter pulls away and grabs his duffel bag, taking a step toward the loading dock. Tony tries not to burst into sobs. Stay, his mind whispers. Please stay. 

Then Peter turns around, eyes full of tears, and slams straight into Tony’s chest, hugging him so tight he can barely breathe. Tony rocks them back and forth, cherishing everything about his sweet boy. When they finally break apart, Peter says, “I’ll be back before you know it,” echoing what Tony has said to him so many times before he leaves for a business trip. 

Then he smiles a watery smile and runs to catch up with his best friend. Just before he disappears into the loading dock, he turns around and waves wildly at Tony.

Tony waves back, grinning. “I love you,” he mouths.

“I love you too!” Peter mouths back, and steps into the dock.

“I love you,” Tony whispers, hastily wiping the dampness from his eyes. “I love you, Peter.”

~~~~~

/ST*RKERS DNI/

Taglist: @aj-that-person @tonystark-deserves-better @nathaly-ab @skeeter-110 @peter-and-tony-vlogs @teammightypen @joyful-soul-collector @loveliestdisappointment @depuella @scwene-qween @honeythepooh @pixiethefirecat7 @spider-man-lover @jami161 @bringitonvoldie @queen-of-sarcasm-25 @roxy3457 @memilon @iron-loyalty @gralaca @bitchingpretty @pillowspace @thatminecraftgal @clockworkteacup @hatakehikari @wtfischeese @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @skydiving-without-a-parachute @yansi1923 @slytherin-hamilton-life-12  @dead-inside-pt2 @name-me-regret @zanderljones @spidy8664 @hold-our-destiny @tinystark-blog @bittersweetbeneath

If anyone wants to be added/ removed please let me know! (also, i think i missed a few people, and a few usernames have been changed, pop me a quick message so i can add you again!) 

[jjuzoir]

Homare Arisugawa General HCS

request: “Hi Sora! I never see any art/writing for my boy Homare from A3! (Maybe because his dialogue is so ridiculous.) Would you mind writing something for him?” from tlali

a/n: ahhh i don’t think i’ve ever taken so long in a request jdjdndnd but i just wanted to make it right because i love homare so much❕ he deserves everything and more i just HDHSJJA we need more homare love 🤬 his dialogue is hilarious and i feel like we need to appreciate his style more no more homare slander 🙅

word count: 1667

- He smells like earl gray tea. No one knows why since he uses unscented soaps, he says it’s probably because he spends most of his time drinking or around tea.

- He’s very particular about his hair, he uses very specific shampoos and conditioners that he will absolutely not share or change unless he notices his hair needs it. Talking about his hair, it’s naturally kind of dry so he uses a lot of hydrating products which leaves him with the softest, most fluffy hair ever. It’s like touching a cloud.

- One of his favorite gifts given to him is a tie given to him as a birthday gift by his members. Everyone pitched it, including Izumi, and Azuma picked it out. It’s black, much like his everyday tie, but it’s got a small embroidered snowflake.

- He’s got three main pairs of glasses; his everyday ones he keeps at hand when he goes out, his at home ones which are (according to him) less flattering, and his driving ones. Keep in mind he can’t drive, he doesn’t even own a car.

- He can speak french and latin, and he’s super loud about it too. He’ll sometimes slip in french phrases and no one will understand other than Chikage and it’s just a mess - Muku is always so amazed that he knows two other languages too and probably asks him to teach him sometime.

- Definitely has the prettiest handwriting when it comes to the roman alphabet, he writes in ink and with fancy pens that cost more than Banri’s tuition.

- Absolutely has a bunch of business cards printed out, each with its own quote made by him. Sakyo thought it was such a waste printing them until he realized that no matter how many Homare took when he went to run errands he always gave them all, to whom? No one knows.

- He’s very well respected in the literary community, which still shocks pretty much everyone. He gets stopped often by fans or people who’ve read his work, it happens at least once a day and Izumi really doesn’t… she doesn’t understand, poor girl.

- He’s not that good with phone calls, he’s not bad but he definitely prefers texting or just talking face to face. To him there’s just a certain level of discontent he doesn’t like that doesn’t exist in other mediums.

- His favorite shows are either comedies or heavy hitting detective shows, there is no inbetween. You’ll walk in on him watching a sitcom leave the room and walk in on a serial killer chase down.

- About his love for detective shows, his favorite pastime is trying to solve the mysteries with the main character. He’ll rewatch the episode so many times to try and pick up clues, he’ll take notes and come to a conclusion and he loves the feeling of getting it right.

- In the same spirit as the statement above, absolutely got Tsumugi and Sakyo hooked on some of his favorites and they hang out to talk about the latest episodes and the overarching mystery. The conversations can tend to get kind of heavy very quick, more than once Muku thought they were investigating a real crime and almost fainted.

- He looks like he’s probably allergic to wool sweaters, they make his skin itch and he always needs to use a shirt underneath them - so he tends to buy those expensive anti-allergic ones that need to be washed in a very specific way that could probably pay Tsuzuru’s whole college debt and it takes a lot of restraint from the playwright not to steal one and sell in the black market.

- Talking about Tsuzuru, he often gives him writing advice. Said advice tends to be very useful, like keeping a pen and notebook on him in case anything comes to mind during the day or writing daily to help ease him into a style, etc. Homare genuinely wants him to bloom into a writer and is willing to beta-read anything Minagi needs, be it a script or a sleep deprived rambling about the gay subtext in Nocturnity.

- Arisugawa sets himself reading goals each month, he likes to read at least one book. He prefers poetry books or classic english literature, but he also likes to read romance books or really bizarre dystopian novels.

- Has read more books than most people in the company and can give very detailed recommendations if you give him like a day.

- Sings operas in the shower, unless stopped he will keep going until the second act. Surprisingly good falsetto, but one time Tenma thought it was a Banshee for a second and almost cried into Juza’s chest.

- He’s not only an overly emotional drunk but also a loud drunk, he’s already quite loud but when he’s downed half a bottle of wine and a shot of vodka he’s louder than the Summer Troupe combined. Because of this, Izumi tends to restrict his alcohol intake when they’re at the dorm.

- I can see him being very big into musicals, not all musicals but a very specific niche; classic horror novels turned into musicals. He’s a very big fan of both the German and Korean versions of Dracula, his favorite song is probably “Zu Ende” or the Korean version of “It’s Over”. He also likes the Frankenstein musical too, but overall he finds Junsu’s Dracula more interesting thus his preference.

- He will talk your ear off if you mention any musical though, be it a classic like Phantom or something newer like Heathers.

- A very big fan of Ghibli movies, he told me so himself today. He really likes Spirited Away though, it’s a movie he’s watched so many times but he’s still completely enamoured by it; he probably has made the Winter Troupe watch it at least once and Hisoka definitely knows the beginning of the movie by heart now.

- Homare is also really good at drawing, not like Kazunari but he’s probably the second best. He learned by analyzing and looking at artists he admired and picking up on their techniques. A true Renaissance Man™️.

- I feel like he’d also have a bunch of skills that are kind of, useless? He can probably carve wood and make candles, he also took a course in glass blowing probably. Arisugawa just wants to try everything at least once, his motto is probably to explore and learn as much as possible, not just about art but the world (he can be surprisingly smart if you have a dictionary at hand).

- Very observant, just in general. Which can be both good and bad, it’s good because it helps him understand the situation in ways others might not but it leads to him to sometimes overthinking things and behaving in manners which may annoy or hurt others.

- He also has a hard time trying to react to social cues, as seen in game, with certain people. While he’s worked it out with the Winter troupe and the Mankai company he still struggles when it comes to new people.

- Will make little tunes he sings in the shower that kind of become a little daily song, each day there’s a new one he’ll hum.

- He also canonly makes music and he makes contemporary electro-pop, you cannot change my mind. He probably also mixes opera and classical music into his tunes, which can go from 1 minute to 10, so you end up with a very cool mix of orchestra and techno-pop - it’s not everyone’s cup of tea but he’s probably got his own niche group.

- Now, into more romantic HCs...

- He’s a good flirt, a very good flirt. They may sound weird looking back at it, but his pickup lines work and they work well.

- He knows when to stop pursuing someone too. He senses even a bit of discomfort and he’s backing away, won’t ask anything. Very big on consent and unless stated absolutely explicitly he’ll keep his distance.

- A true gentleman, please - he’ll never let his dates pay, always open the doors for them, will even do the “walk on the inside of the sidewalk” when he’s walking you home.

- His favorite dates tend to be ones where you get to know more about each other, not always necessarily by talking though. Being able to go into a bookstore and look at the books, seeing the ones you pick, what you pick at a cafe or restaurant, it all helps him draw a better picture of who you are and he likes to think it helps you get to know him better too.

- He’s very in tune with his S/O’s feelings but is afraid of overstepping any boundaries which may lead to some miscommunication at the beginning of the relationship. But it’s workable and it wouldn’t be that big an issue in the long run as long as his partner is willing to help him understand them.

- Not big on PDA, thinks certain things should remain inside - not to say he wouldn’t talk for hours about his partner to anyone who listens but things like kissing or hugs tend to be behind closed doors. He’s okay with hand holding and maybe a kiss on the cheek though!

- Likes wearing matching outfits with his S/O, thinks it shows how they’re “one in spirit, heart, and mind” and will not stop pointing it out to the point even married couples feel single as they hear him ramble on about the subtle coordination in your color schemes to create a perfect contrast.

- Notices the smallest things like how much sugar you like in your drinks, the telltale signs of when you’re lying or uncomfortable, how you act when you’re too cold or too hot, and learns it by heart.

- Homare is also the kind of boyfriend who’d confront the waiter if they get your order wrong, he’s not ashamed of it either.

- He kind of just wants to make sure you’re doing well and happy, he’s a gentleman.

- Damn… I love him so much

[emimothvine]

📂 I love your headcanons so much!!!

Thank <3 I hope you know that every time I see your username it makes me happy. 

TW: Mitsuki is a terrible fucking parent.

Every time Katsuki is forced to come back home for a visit, his mother decides to watch the news instead of her usual soap operas. Her favorite channel is one garnered towards young heroes and hero-hopefuls specifically, and she never fails to turn up the volume when they inevitably start talking shit about her son. He’s been one of their favorite topics ever since the sports festival, and Kamino only made it worse.

They call him unstable, volatile, and dangerous. They suggest that he went with the villains willingly and that he had a hand in All Might’s downfall. They spit poison and hate, claim to fear for the safety of those around him - and in the same breath they shove it under a guise of concern for his mental health. As if they didn’t just waste ten minutes verbally eviscerating his character.

Mitsuki likes to send him blog posts, too. And articles. She texts him links throughout the week, all written by either fake-worried parents or alleged “professionals.” It hurts him, having everything she says about him confirmed through writing. It feels like dozens of tiny needles slowly digging their way through his chest, into his heart.

He still reads all of it. Listens to everything they have to say. He doesn’t know why; he doesn’t want to see this - doesn’t even need to, really. He already knows he’s bad, knows what to expect with every familiar ping of his phone. But for some reason, there’s this thing in his gut, this pull urging him to look, look at that. It tells him to read and to re-read; to hear it all and see it all a hundred times over; to dissect every word.

When he’s home, it’s all she talks about outside of reprimands and strange, bipolar bullshit with his father. His father, who sits silently as she pokes and prods at everything that makes Katsuki bad and wrong; who tells him that she loves him. Wants what’s best for him. His father, who tells the prettiest lies.

(And her husband, too, whom she calls a pushover and a coward. Whom she scolds relentlessly for every mistake and every weakness, and then laughs at when he tries to change. Katsuki isn’t like Masaru. Katsuki won’t change a damn thing for her, no matter the hurt. He isn’t like Masaru, because cruelty is all she’s ever given him, and he refuses to fight for something that isn’t there.)

(No, he won’t seek her kindness or her affection. He doesn’t need something as superficial as his mother’s love to succeed.)

(And yet.)

(And yet he’ll never admit to the bitter ache he feels when he hears her tell Masaru she loves him.)

When Katsuki has the nerve to snap back, to match her loud volume, or (when he’s feeling particularly daring) to raise his voice first, she slaps him. But Katsuki doesn’t care - she smacks him all the time. What really gets under his skin is the question that follows, the “you gonna try to fuck me up like you did that gravity bitch at the festival?” Fuck, does it piss him off.

All of this, every word and hit and passive-aggressive taunt, her way of saying “See? The world agrees with me. You can’t be who you are and still be a hero.”

Katsuki refuses to believe the second part. But the first? Yeah. He’s a piece of shit. Makes sense that the world would hate him. He can’t say he likes himself much either.

...What Katsuki doesn’t realize is that Mitsuki’s sources are a load of bullshit.

That news channel? Filled with misogynists and homophobes and just about every brand of bigot out there. You’d be hard-pressed to find someone that actually takes them seriously - not in this day and age.

The blogs, the articles? She has to spend hours scrounging the internet to find people stupid enough to bash her son. And when she does, the comments are either filled with angry fans of his, or the comment section has been deleted entirely.

Katsuki doesn’t know that after the sports festival, UA went under fire from all directions. Furious parents, angry teenagers, various news outlets. The school was canceled on Twitter, and the hashtag was trending for a solid four weeks before the internet calmed the fuck down.

Then Kamino happened, and All Might fell. That one reporter that questioned Katsuki’s morality got demoted after a petition to have them fired received over a hundred thousand signatures. UA was canceled yet again, and it was even worse this time - because All Might’s fall is big news, and it was inevitable that its reach extended past Japanese borders. The whole world caught wind of All Might’s end, and with it the story of the boy who was stolen from right under the heroes’ noses. The infamous scene from the sports festival spilled across international borders, along with speculation that this was the reason villains targeted Katsuki in the first place.

And the fucking. Backlash. Good lord.

A couple thousand Katsuki stan accounts were created to go along with the dozens he had before, and anti-UA hashtags were trending in France and Russia for at least two days. UA ended up releasing a public apology for their actions at the sports festival and their negligence at the training camp (neither of which are seen by Katsuki, courtesy of his mother).

His classmates make jokes, sometimes, about all his “fans.” But Katsuki thinks they’re just that: jokes. He sees people staring at him on the street, and he assumes their looks come from a place of disgust. He knows that people are intimidated by him, but he doesn’t know that their trepidation goes hand-in-hand with their admiration - he’s powerful, to them, and he’s been through some shit. But he’s still standing tall and proud and unshakeable. He burns so brightly, and he has this air about him that makes you want him to like you, to be impressed by you - and that makes people nervous.

.

.

That was way longer than I intended, what the fuck.

tl;dr Katsuki thinks that the public hates him way more than they actually do, and thus does not realize that half of Japan’s population (plus a small percentage of the rest of the world) hardcore stans his oblivious ass.

(He finally starts to figure it out when some douchebag on the train starts heckling him, and he stays quiet because he’s learned by now that lashing out will make it worse.)

(He does not expect an enraged five-year-old girl to show up out of nowhere and kick that motherfucker in the shin.)

(He also does not expect for half the train car to back her up. Loudly.)

(All he can do is stare in blatant astonishment as a crowd of complete strangers rises to his defense; as some random teenagers approach his gaping visage and tell him to ignore that bastard, that he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, that his opinion means shit.)

(And Katsuki doesn’t know what this is - if it’s pity, if he should be angry - but it makes his chest burn and his eyes sting and for once, he thinks, it’s okay. Doing nothing and watching in heart-wrenching astonishment - it’s all okay.)

[sunsetcurvecuddles]

Road trip to nowhere in particular. Bobby just likes to drive. Reggie just likes to point out cows and horses out the windows. Maybe he counts them. Maybe he names them. Either way Bobby has to pretend to be annoyed/mildly amused even as he is experiencing SO MUCH LOVE

hi this is both sadder and longer than i intended for it to be so it is now also available to read on ao3 here. warning for allusions to child abuse.

seems like i’d take a new road | boggie | 2.1k

--

It's still barely bright outside when Bobby pulls up and parks the car a few houses down from Reggie's, so he doesn't risk waking Reggie's parents. As he gets out of the car and goes to knock on Reggie's window, Bobby rubs his eyes, wondering what kind of insanity possessed him when he suggested they leave so early.

Reggie's already sitting on his bed when Bobby comes up to the window, hands folded in his lap, backpack at his feet. The light from the lamp on his bedside table casts shadows across his face, makes him look thoughtful, and quiet. He looks up almost as soon as Bobby comes into view, like he knew, somehow, that Bobby would be there.

Or he just heard you coming, idiot, Bobby chides himself, but when Reggie grins, eyes way too bright for the hour, Bobby feels a matching smile tugging across his face without his permission.

—

"Okay, okay," Reggie says, as soon as he's plonked himself into the passenger seat, rifling through his backpack immediately, "I've got snacks, and soda, and sandwiches for lunch later, and some mix CDs, but I don't know which one we should listen to first, since—"

"Reg," Bobby interrupts him flatly, even though it's absolutely killing him not to laugh. "Seatbelt first, thanks."

"Oh." Reggie sits back, abashed, and buckles in before returning to the contents of the bag. "It's just very important that we have the right mix for the drive. It has to fit the atmosphere. That can make or break the whole trip!" He's gesturing all over the place with his free hand, still half-buried in the oversized backpack on his lap.

"Right," says Bobby, as though he's totally on board.

"So," Reggie hums, "We've got a selection, so, I'll just read them all out to you—"

"Don't worry about it," Bobby tells him, turning the key and pumping the gas a few times as the engine rolls over before it properly coughs to life, "you just pick something."

Reggie stops, looks up at him wide-eyed. "Are you sure? I know that I like weird music. Alex would die before he let me choose a CD."

"Do I look like Alex?" Bobby retorts, and Reggie's face splits into a huge smile.

"I know the perfect one. It's gonna be so good, Bobby, promise."

—

This is how Bobby spends the next half an hour listening to a burned CD of all Reggie's favourite country songs, as the sun rises over the road and he takes them out of the city. Even this early, there's traffic, because LA is a nightmare city from hell and Bobby hates it, but leaving early has definitely given them an advantage. Reggie winds his window down and rests his arms on the window edge so he can sing Tim McGraw out to the city of angels to wake her up and ready for her the day, and Bobby settles in for the drive.

They'd both been going nuts, was the thing. Bobby’s just had too much work to do, and there’s always so much noise at home, his little siblings underfoot and on top of him and exhausting, as much as he loves them.

Bobby knows Reggie doesn't have such benign reasons for wanting to get away for the day. However, Bobby also knows better than to push him on it, especially when he's in such a good mood, belting the lyrics to Memory Lane (when Bobby swats him and tells him the song sucks, Reggie just smiles bigger, belts even louder). Reggie pretty much universally refuses to acknowledge that there's a problem until it becomes impossible to ignore.

Like last week, when he'd called Bobby from his home phone, whispering a request to pick him up — please, just for a few hours, Bobby, and then I'll get out of your hair, it's just — and Bobby had been able to hear the banging and yelling even on his end of the call. Or when he'd turned up at Bobby's place with a black eye last month, had ended up sleeping in Bobby’s studio, curled up to Bobby on the couch, shivering even under the blankets Bobby brought out for them.

It's difficult to reconcile that image, of Reggie teary and silent and meek as Bobby had given him a pack of frozen peas to press over his eye, who had only shaken his head when Bobby asked him what happened, with this image, of Reggie with his head half out the window, singing and beaming in the morning sun. Tim McGraw's voice fades out, only to be replaced by more guitar (which sounds exactly the same to Bobby's ear) and Reggie's face lights up as he whoops, says, "This song is SO good, can I turn it up?"

Forget the morning sun. Reggie's brighter than it is.

Bobby makes sure his resigned sigh is extra theatrical before he says, "I guess so."

—

The next hour or so continues mostly this way, as Los Angeles becomes a more scattered, widespread set of houses and then eventually not much except desert. They share a packet of Haribo bears, Reggie insisting on giving Bobby the 'best colours' even though Bobby is almost certain they all taste pretty much the same, but he rolls his eyes and gives in when Reggie insists there's a subtle difference. At one point, the CD comes to an end, so Reggie swaps it for the next one. Which is also full of country. "Alex never lets me play any of these," he says defensively, even though all Bobby had done was glance at him out of the corner of his eye.

Bobby just shrugs and says, "I can see why."

And Reggie delightedly retorts, "Hey!"

After winding through the open, rocky expanse for awhile, things turn a little greener. Suddenly, Reggie breaks off singing to lean so far out the window that Bobby instinctively grabs the back of his shirt in his fist.

"Jesus, Peters, ass in the seat!" he huffs, mostly because his heart is still pounding.

Reggie has the decency to look a little sheepish as he sits back down, but still more excited than anything. "Sorry, Bobby, just — there's cows! Look, a whole field of them!"

There is, in fact, a whole field of cows. "Well, don't traumatise them by falling out the window."

"There's so many," Reggie continues, like Bobby didn't even speak, and then continues at a muttered volume, "one, two, three, four—"

"Are you seriously going to count all of them?" Bobby asks. This needs to stop. If Reggie's going to be this distractingly cute — no, just distracting — the whole trip, Bobby's going to crash the car, he can feel it. "You know they're going to move around and stuff."

"Oh," says Reggie, humming, "you're right. Hang on, I should name them so I can tell them apart. What are some good cow names? I think the big one up on the hill looks like a Betsy. And the brown one is totally a Buttercup."

Bobby groans, his heart growing three sizes in his chest, like he’s the Grinch or something. "Franco," he suggests at last.

"Franco?!" Reggie bursts out laughing. "You think 'Franco' is a good cow's name?"

"Is it not?" Bobby retorts, and Reggie laughs harder, throwing his head back and wrapping his arms around his stomach. The sound of him cackling almost drowns out Dolly Parton's voice still crooning from Bobby's stereo.

This Reggie. Versus the one who lives in Bobby's memory, tiny and silent, frozen peas held to his face with one trembling hand.

"Francesca," Reggie is saying, through his wheezing laughter, "now, Francesca is a good cow's name."

"Would you shut up about naming the cows and pass me a soda?"

"The calf is called Henry!" Reggie insists, as he leans to dig through his backpack. When he pulls out a can of soda and holds it out to Bobby, still flushed pretty-pink from laughing, his hair sort of a mess in his eyes, nose scrunched up extra cute, and Bobby feels his stomach softly flip over.

Well. That's a feeling he should repress.

"Thanks," he says, careful not to brush Reggie's fingers as he takes the can from him. Reggie doesn’t seem to notice. Thank god.

"You're welcome," says Reggie quietly, snuggling back down into his seat, looking out the window again. He points and says, "That one's called Oscar."

Definitely repressing, Bobby decides. Immediately. Forever. He can't have a crush on Reggie. Like, the band, and the fact that the last thing Reggie needs is for one of his friends to have feelings for him, as if he doesn’t already have enough going on. There are so many reasons he shouldn't have a crush on Reggie. Down, he tells the feeling, pushing at it in his chest, go down, stay down. "Is he?"

Reggie is oblivious, cheerfully rambling on, with no idea that he is causing Bobby a serious internal crisis. "Yeah. And that one's called—"

Bobby hopes it stays that way. He turns Dolly Parton up a little bit, and keeps driving.

—

They park and have lunch at the top of a hill looking over the valley. Reggie regales Bobby with some needlessly complicated story of the relationship between all the cows, as if they’re living a little soap opera down in the field. If Bobby’s going to be honest, he can’t follow the plot, but that doesn’t stop him staring at Reggie’s profile, the way he looks perfect here, at home among the grass and in the bright sun, how he comes alive being out here.

Bobby’s never really known what to think of the future. Before the band, he didn’t have much in his head to imagine. All his thoughts of the future were of his little siblings, what their lives would be like, but it was Luke who had first interrupted him and asked, “Well, yeah, but what about you, man? What do you want your life to be like?”

Maybe Bobby will save up and buy a farm out here, when all the band and touring stuff is done. So Reggie can come visit. Hell, maybe he’ll just buy Reggie a farm, with their millions of dollars they’re going to make when they’re all famous rock stars like Luke says they’ll be.

If we all have that much money, Reggie will buy his own farm, the voice in his head that keeps him in line sharply reminds him. Push them down. Push the feelings down.

“Here,” he says to Reggie, shoving his sandwich over. “You wanna finish this? Then we can get going.”

—

On their return drive that afternoon, Reggie is quiet. When one of the CDs loops back to the beginning, Reggie ejects it and doesn’t put in another one. The quiet is okay, Bobby thinks. It gives him a chance to catch his breath, to focus on the road, to forget all about his revelation from earlier in the day.

Winding back through the city, the sun dips lower in the sky. The city lights start to come alive as the evening sets in. Reggie starts to fiddle with the edge of his flannel, shift in his seat, like he’s nervous. A few times he breathes in, like he’s going to talk, and then doesn’t.

Bobby waits him out. He knows Reggie hates being pushed, hates stammering and fumbling for words when he doesn’t have them yet.

Still, he’s surprised when Reggie actually does break the silence. “Can I—” he starts, swallows, and then stops.

“Can you?” Bobby prompts, when Reggie doesn’t continue. His instinct is to reach for Reggie’s hand, but he does what he’s been doing all day, and pushes the thought down. God, what if Reggie’s noticed? What if that’s what he’s about to say? For a moment, Bobby feels cold, and nauseous. He sets his jaw.

“CouldImaybestayatyourplacetonight?” Reggie blurts out, all in one go.

Bobby breathes what he hopes is an imperceptible sigh of relief. Sure, it means a night of knowing Reggie’s out in the studio, probably cold. It means Bobby will inevitably climb out of bed, and out his window, bringing his extra blankets, to curl up with Reggie on the couch, to make sure he stays warm. Because that’s what always happens when Reggie sleeps over. And that’s a whole lot more complicated now that Bobby knows that he—well.

But Bobby looks at the worry on Reggie’s face, his stupid puppy eyes, and he can’t say no. Could never say no to Reggie anyway, he thinks. He needs to be there for Reggie, and that’s why his feelings have no place in this mess. “Of course, Reg. No problem.”

No problem, he tells himself, and does his best to mean it.

--

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