#then lived out a few years i think. but it was like some inception shit

[cappucosmico]

i went to da hospital bc weed did nightmare shit to me (advanced)

[catonator]

Marketers are Morons

E3 is dead, but suits still need to get their fix for both their crippling gambling addiction and their exhibitionist fetish somewhere, so you know what time it is! It’s… a random weekend in June.

That’s right, with no real reason or cohesion to onlookers, this just happens to be the exact moment when all the executives could no longer hold it in and had to bust all over Twitch, which is much easier nowadays thanks to the camwhore apocalypse. As such, we have a fuckton of new trailers and other assorted trailer-like homunculi to pour over as the good little consumer piggies we are.

But the past few years, the ads have seemed increasingly unlikely to stir any excitement. Trailers are more cookie-cutter than ever, and actual gameplay reveals are a disappearing art. And much like last time when I complained about gaming news, all the developers actually making the games are mysteriously absent. Yes, you read that right, this blog has continuity now! Look forward to the blogomatic universe announcement later this year.

Looking back at E3s of old, these new events are cheaper, more condensed, more accessible and entirely controlled by the corporations and not vulnerable to the oh-so-familiar gaffes of live shows. Yet they still happen just as rarely as E3. Somehow the genius executives at the top have decided that, you know, instead of letting people know what’s happening more often and spreading the games accordingly to give them all room to breathe, we stuff even more crap into a shorter timespan and as a result nobody even remembers what we saw two days later.

Confoundingly we’ve decided that now gameplay reveals are also trailers. Both Perfect Dark and That Indiana Jones Thing Because Disney Has To Stay Relevant™ had “gameplay reveals”, but both were some sort of amalgamation of gameplay clips strung together and overlaid with the same piano-inception horn trailer music trash every other trailer was full of. Why even bother? Just cut out the middleman and show us a CGI video clip at that point for all the difference that makes.

I’m honestly a little confused about what all the suits even do all day. They’re paid exorbitant sums of money and all they can come up with is the same shit all their friends and THEMSELVES have been doing for years. Does the marketing team also double as the company’s cocaine quality assurance wing? Presumably the business school all these clowns come from is equally tilted in their goals, since I’d imagine “don’t immediately shoot your product in the foot” and “don’t make your product look as undesirable as possible” would rank fairly high on a business 101 class’ Don’t-Fuck-It-up-o-meter. Alongside wisdom like “don’t burn all your money like Heath Ledger in the Dark Knight”.

I feel the early onset Old Man Syndrome setting in again. Last time it was gaming magazines/news, this time it’s gaming events. There’s another one about marketing and gameplay gifs on social media that I think I’ll save for later. It’s a little frustrating that consistently I hit the same issues with the consideration of “it worked so much better before, what the fuck happened?”

Many complain about E3 et al. being just loaded advertising breaks, but the truth is, even in a moneyless society marketing would still be needed to let people know your artwork exists. A marketing campaign doesn’t just exist to sell you on something monetarily, but also timewise. Even if a game was free, the time commitment still means that you’ll filter out a lot of art unless you know it’s worth your time.

It’s a little disappointing that a theoretically better and more accessible system still makes me miss the haphazard cringefest that was E3, but a well oiled marketing machine also completely lacks the humanity that this medium so sorely needs right now. So please, bring it back. E3 needs to exist for this industry’s long term survival.

And also the E3 bingo cards. Those are the most important bit.

[another-dra-anew]

koba!!!

lying on the floor. im so normal about him im so normal about him im so-

- My identity hc for them

tbh! i go back and forth on whether i view him as gay or bi. so. hm. uhh canonically likes guys, and i don’t really have any consistent thoughts past that! + canonically a trans guy. my boy fits the “can’t go out without wearing 4+ layers” stereotype… rip.

  - Thoughts on their home life/family

hmm. what’s something we won’t cover in canon- OH. so, he has two older sisters, and  his maternal grandparents had three kids- two girls, and a boy, with the boy being the oldest (koba mom (yuriko) is their youngest child). so koba and his siblings are a mirror reflection of their mom and her siblings. also, her mom has a very dear friend she’s been close with for forever, and is also close with his wife now. koba considers their children to be his cousins- this is why he has some french knowledge, they live in france! has one cousin who he especially likes, a lass a few years older than him.

- How i feel about their canonical writing/handling

i feeeel… like he can feel a bit one note/flat? but.. i think completing his ftes will show a sort of depth to him that comes through in the main game, if you know it’s there. (also some of his feeling flat does come from me boyfailing in the past when it comes to writing. so.)

- The one thing i’d want to make canon about them

hm. less so something i want to make canon, moreso… something i hope people pick up on? my boy is constantly trying so hard to protect his peace. the only reason he comes across as okay as he does is because maeda only sees him at breakfast and dinner, and maeda is kinda a dunce, so he hasn’t noticed that kobashikawa is connnstantly self soothing. again. maeda is our protag and oh how that limits things. but- OH. holiday event, the start of harus arc. the way he tries to console himself, but then just distracts himself until things go away? yeaaah.

- My number one favorite ship for them

….so. you see i should say otohiko. i should. they’re iconic they’re the moment i do genuinely really love them. but i’ve had such bad kobamae brainrot…

- …Now everyone else i ship with them

kisaragi! cuz kobas huge on building planes, and kisa is a inventor. i think they’d have fun working together!! parallel play :]. also koba has a fwend he knew for like.. a year? in elementary school. who also attends hopes peak! that year of school was Really Rough on koba, so he kinda. just isn’t as eager to reconnect? bc of poor associations. but fwend is… maybe he doesn’t quite understand, but he’s trying! and he has a very good heart. so i don’t really ship them but sometimes i see stuff that makes me go “oh… it’s them 🥺” so. ya know!!

- The thing i will NEVER ship

no “enemies to lovers” with him and higa don’t even try to slide that shit by. that’s a bigot x the person he hate crimed. (i do think while koba wouldn’t ever be *friends* with higa, they could be acquaintances. he wants an apology he 100% wants an apology he’s not going to stop giving higa hell (in non despair) until he gets an apology. but yeah i just. i don’t think they’re compatible i don’t think they’d mesh well and i just. why would u do koba like that ?

- a dynamic/relationship i wish was explored more (in canon, or in fandom)

not to say iranami again. but they were besties in the first iterations of beta so it’s a fun little throwback for me!! i also think abt him and tsu in non despair a lot. i think they kinda… tend to run in different circles a lot? but they occasionally seek out each other specifically. cuz they’re friends!! they just don’t really have the same friend group. overall i think koba is p popular/well liked! so like… should chat more abt him and everyone

- thoughts on their design (appearance-wise)

mmm.. i’m actually redesigning his fit rn but i think his general color palette is a vibe!! it’s been consistent since betas inception and has stayed the same. i kinda tend to give up on his fit cuz it never works with me,, but surely this time it will all work out for me… yes…..

- A music-related thought- a song that reminds me of them, or what their music taste is, etc

uhhhhh. like or like like - miniature tigers. specifically the chorus/“do you like or like like me? juuuuust sayyyy youu do…” gives me him vibes. i think he tends to make people go 👀 at him so if he was ever uncertain if someone liked him back he wouldn’t really be able to deal with it well? like or like like works because the phrase is a more light hearted/less serious way of seeing if someone feels the same, but it’s also like… again that line is accurate to what koba would want- for that person to just say they like him (tho, while that’s what he’d want to ask of them, if they actually just said yes bc he asked. he’d be v upset)

the king - conan gray, is similarly kobashikawa trying to Cope if the one time he wants someone, it doesn’t come easy to him. this song is one i have down for both him and otori lol. the only exception - paramore, is also very much so a them song. theres probably other songs i associate with him that i’m forgetting about but he’s being spoiled rn compared to the other kids. so.

[iaintyourbro]

The Unknown Journey Continues

Part 1

I know it's been a while... but I've been going down a rabbit hole with @starlight-samurai regarding time loops, Jenova, Minerva, and more fun. So I figured I'd try to put it into one post to get the insanity out of my head. Everything in here is based on things we've found by either going through more obscure Ultimanias, learning more about Dirge of Cerberus and trying to decipher what the hell Jenova is by putting together various sources - including other Square Enix games - and how they handled freakishly similar scenarios.

Did you know there is a companion mobile game for it that was out on the good old flip phones? Did you know there was an online mode in Dirge of Cerberus only available in Japan, but had story elements that were not in the main game?

The sad part is, there's still so much to go through...

(I've also had various discussions with @ourfinalheaven, Manu, who doesn't have Tumblr, so here is her Twitter. and Somebody's Nightmare (here is her Twitter). So I wanted to tag them here, as it's much more fun to discuss these ideas as a group, since it'll only help you build on and strengthen your own ideas.)

Please be aware, there will be Spoilers for FFVII - Almost all Compilation titles, Xenogears, and NieR Automata throughout this.

So let's go on a journey where we explore what actually already exists in the compilation - including the idea of the whispers and timeloops - how Minerva may play into everything, and what exactly Jenova is capable of doing.

I asked Sesi if he'd ever played any of the NieR games, because he'd said something that made me wonder if they were going to take a similar approach. As a very, very quick high level summary: NieR Automata deals with a time loop type of idea. The androids will be rebooted and repeat the same things over and over again. This is broken when 2B is killed by A2 because she becomes infected with a virus. That being said, you have the option after Ending E to either erase all of your data and end the cycle OR you can try again. The Pods have a discussion, and one asks, "But won't they just do the same thing again?" and the other replies with "Maybe. But it could also be different this time."

Here's Sesi's message back to me when I asked him about this (cleaned up a bit since we were having a casual conversation over Discord):

Maybe I could just guess based comparatively on the Dirge storyline, because that was sort of SE's first flirtation with “robots and androids” since they’re all programmed and locked behind like task managers and shit that can shut them down. The story of the online mode for DoC that came out in Japan, we never got to see it, you’re basically an Android OC and you have to get to “the end of the level” and then essentially die, and a new one takes its place. This keeps happening until Weiss is essentially freed from being able to be task managed by the guys who are suppose to be able to control them and I know from tons of years with Square games that they’re verrrrry bad at differentiating their narratives they tend to just keep “ripping themselves off” so is it anything close to that?

Cuz if so I think I kinda know what you’re saying and yeah, I agree, I think with CC bringing in its poetic symbolism and LOVELESS, and DoC bringing back the cyclic nature of the lore, whispers, premonitions and future visions, proto-Materia and the perversion of this next cycle since the planet can no longer cleanse and protect itself and its will is weakening lesser and lesser to the point where it’s fate is “in a true sense of jeopardy This time essentially it’s all tied in together and sort of played as though it's a fated track; a cycle of events and something has hitched it, thus the whispers manifesting and Sephiroth's higher implied control over his destiny. Of course, even all that is just their new red herring game, but it’s definitely a part of the lore they want to play with, in order to go back and reMAKE the OG with the comp inserted from inception. Also gut punch a lot.

Time Loops

I was somewhat surprised to find out that this concept is NOT new to FFVII's universe. It's discussed in Dirge of Cerberus... probably one of the least played and least understood of the compilation. (Trying to sell a third person shooter with terrible controls to a market of mostly people used to turn-based combat wasn't going to go well.)

On top of it, we didn't even get all of it, since online mode was never released outside of Japan, and the Dirge of Cerberus Lost Episode was on Amp'd Mobile and Verizon flip phones back in 2006. Were you around for the cell phones in 2006? I had the ones on the list, and how somebody could play a game on those blows my mind.

Square has a tendency to reuse themes from their other titles. Probably one of the most blatant is the similarities between Xenogears and Final Fantasy VII. They were both being developed at the same time and a lot of ideas that didn't make it into FFVII ended up in Xenogears.

NieR

So how does this work? In NieR (both Replicant and Automata), you play the same path multiple times. Each time, it's slightly different depending on what side quests you did your first and second playthrough, but there's also other subtle differences throughout the story. In Automata, you get to play as 2B your first playthrough and 9S for your second. They follow the same path, but you get it from his perspective the second time and it reveals a bit more of what is going on. However, even with some slight differences, the main plot points stay the same and the ending result it also the same.

Then on your third playthrough, you wake up in the Bunker, and you're getting ready to go on a new mission. This time, though, 2B is killed and shit hits the fan. Things get crazy, you play as a new character: A2. In the end, pretty much everyone "dies", but you can choose to "reboot" and try again. You also can say you are done and let them all rest and delete your save data (the game gives you the option for both Automata and Replicant, and with Replicant, it actually leads to a new ending).

The striking thing for me is... There are certain events that will always happen, no matter what.

Fixed Points in Time

It's been years since I've watched Doctor Who, but there was something that stuck with me, and that was the fixed points in time. You can read about all of them here, but here's the basics:

Now, of course Doctor Who goes into this with much more detail and it's a recurring theme. However, as you read through that page, you'll probably find many aspects that have been used in various JRPGs that you've played. And Doctor Who most likely pulled some of the idea from classic Science Fiction novels. Each story puts its own spin on it.

How does this relate to FFVII Remake? Well, when they say that the major plot points will stay the same, it reminds me of this. No matter what, Cloud must fall into the Sector 5 Church, the Sector 7 Plate must be dropped, Aerith and Zack both must die, and Meteor has to be summoned, to name a few. So, with a time loop, those things would still have to take place in order to prevent a complete collapse of reality (at least in how Doctor Who uses it).

Therefore, the Whispers are ensuring that the Will of the Planet is followed.

One of the major themes in FFVII is that of loss. People die and they do not come back. Yes, other FF games do allow this to happen (FFX, FFXIII, FFXV), but VII is not those games. It was written with that idea in mind, that once a person dies, they, just like in real life, are dead and cannot be brought back.

I've previously written that I think they'll make us believe we are able to change fate, but we will eventually be slammed with the reality that we can't. That is because the planet has determined that certain events are fixed points.

Xenogears

Xenogears takes a bit of a different approach to the loop idea. Instead of repeating the same time period over and over, it has the characters reincarnated, and the same outcome happens each time: Elly dies. However, each time it's different. After all, they're in various time periods, in some cases thousands of years apart.

In all of the lives of Fei (who will have a different name in each time period) and Elly (who is always Elly/Elhaym), Elly will end up dying trying to protect Fei and the others. In one life, she is a religious figure at a totally not Catholic church, in another she's the wife of a scientist who was working to create children from nanomachines due to mass infertility issues. But she is ALWAYS with Fei, even if his name changes.

In her Mother Elhaym time, this is when Lacan (Fei) finally snaps. Though he's not fully aware of his past lives, he becomes aware, the anger consumes him, and he becomes Grahf. Fei is then reborn into the time period you play the game in.

There's a lot to unpack with this, so I won't go into it. Grahf wants to destroy God (Deus) because he thinks if he does, then it'll stop the suffering (his suffering).

If you do want to read more about Grahf, you can do so here, but it probably won't make much sense unless you've played Xenogears up to that point... Since it's much later in the game that this is all explained.

Lacan's desire was to stop the cycle of Elly always sacrificing herself for his sake. Though Grahf is not a perfect existence - he's not fully "The Contact", he sacrifices himself in order to let Fei move forward, and hopefully stop the cycle, by destroying the Deus system. (Elly also tries to sacrifice herself here, but Fei goes after her and stops her.)

Now, some people may think I'm saying that Cloud or somebody is going to do this in order to save Aerith or Zack (or his village or mom), but in FFVII if they do the loop method, I don't think Cloud, Tifa, Barret, and the others are aware of it. Most likely, it's only 'Sephiroth' and Aerith who are aware of it.

How this Could Be used for Final Fantasy VII

I'm stressing could because there's so many different possibilities on how they use this (if they are using this), so please, don't take this as fact. This is based on speculation based on what we know.

A time loop is a great way to explain away the differences in the story that we've seen: Biggs being alive, Wedge living for longer than he should have, etc. Since these are not major plot changes, they can simply say that this time it'll be slightly different... but your fixed points (major plot points) will remain the same.

It's a way to pull in some of the more obscure themes from Dirge of Cerberus and also play with the LOVELESS lore.

It could all simply be a big red herring and it's really just a remake of OG, but with the compilation tied together nicely... since it works much better when it's combined and not in 50 different games, books, movies, etc.

I don't think it's a "sequel" per say, not in the way I generally perceive a sequel. It's more of a loop of the same thing. The question is, when is the loop started and what will cause it to end? When will the planet (if it even is the planet) determine that it's good enough to begin moving forward?

JENOVA, Sephiroth, Genesis, and Minerva - Oh My!

Let's be real... Genesis isn't exactly the most popular character in the FFVII Compilation... but what if they make him one of the most important to the story? //Ducks as various fruits and vegetable are thrown in my direction//

I think what Genesis is probably most known for is his love of LOVELESS. He has the entire thing memorized and randomly says lines from it throughout Crisis Core. LOVELESS lore is still something I'm trying to grasp, so I am not going to comment much on it. Once I understand it more, I'll update this.

...And then this happens. The secret ending for Dirge of Cerberus, where Genesis picks up Weiss. Weiss, who has now been introduced along with Nero in FFVII INTERmission and is an optional ridiculously hard boss in the Shinra battle simulator in chapter 17 of the main story. There is some lore associated with the battle sim - so if you don't plan on beating it or you just can't, you can look up the pre-battle and post-battle cut scenes on YouTube. They're very short, but interesting. (I beat this asshole last night - it's a hell of a fight.)

....To Be Continued because apparently Tumblr won't allow more than 10 images per post now.... Next will be more on JENOVA and Sephiroth along with Minerva.

[pleasantmag]

Interview: Q&A with Slo TV

Photo by Rosie Simmons

Philadelphia’s Slo TV are gearing up to release their debut album, Incomplete Structures, which was produced and recorded at True Level Studio by Tom Conran and Holly Smith. Additional recording was done at Sound Acres Studio by Conran. Guest vocals on this album feature True Level Studio owners Casey Cavaliere (The Wonder Years) and Adam Ackerman (Honeyjar). We caught up with Tom Conran for a Q&A session to talk about the band, the release, and their future plans! Check out the interview below and don’t forget to check out Incomplete Structures, due out May 6, 2022. Pre-order it here! 

______

Pleasant Mag: Thank you for being here to talk with us today. We’re so excited to interview y’all. So tell us, where did your band name come from & how did your band form?

Tom Conran: Working as a producer the past few years, I started experimenting with recording and mixing techniques as a sort of release or escape just trying to detach from the stress of life and make something.  When it got to a point that I wanted to realize some of this stuff I just started fully recording tracks before even deciding they would have lyrics.  It went from a few songs to an album quickly and I went to some friends for help.

I had been thinking about slow tv(marathon style broadcasting) as a format and idea during this time and it was the only name that felt right. We wanted to play with the contradiction of media and nature, another escape and influence for us.  

PM: What was the process like bringing on UnWoven’s Charlie Singer, CaraCara/Steady Hands’, George Legatos, & Darla’s Brendan Monohan?

TC: When I was writing the tracks I knew i wanted Charlie to record drums so when he was down to join the band I was stoked. He beats the living shit out of the drums and it really comes through in a beautiful way on the tracks. On the record Adam Ackerman lent his talents to the bass and some background vocals, so when it came time to translate that live, Honeyjar drummer Richie Straub, linked me up with Brendan and It was a perfect fit from the get go so I eventually got him to find me George as well.  First practice we had with George, he knew the songs better then me. Again a perfect fit.

PM: Can you tell us a little bit about what was the writing process like for your debut album? Was it collective among the band members?

TC: These tracks started out as ambient synth demos that were totally free form and were scoring some of Holly’s old art school video workfilms. Slowly the tracks built up into full band arrangements. After all the instrumentation was tracked, the songs just called for more. So Holly and I started to write lyrics with the focus of bringing some pop and poetry to them. It’s wild to reflect on the transformation of these songs since their inception.

When I got together with the band we focused on the emotional story we wanted to tell with each song.  Im still always working on l demos so I’m am excited next time around to bring them to the band and get their influence early on.

PM: Why did you choose a full length album to release first rather than an EP? Any reason in particular?

TC: I was really using this process to, process, if you will, a lot of events in my life and it was a large span of time so I ended up with 20 songs. I edited that down to 8 and felt like that’s what it needed to be.  

PM: Do you have a favorite song on this album? What is it and why?

TC: One of my favorite moments, sonically, is the second chorus of “Free Hands”. The overall composition of the section always guts me. It‘s a perfect photo of the exact emotion I was trying to explain.  This is the one song on the record that was actually about the past unlike the others which were reactions to the these two years. It is also the one Holly pushed me to write about, and her favorite on the album

PM: What was it like recording this album at True Level Studio, which you co-own with Casey Cavaliere of The Wonder Years?

TC: It was great, I was able to experiment and sonically carve out exactly what I wanted to portray. It’s such a a privilege and a pleasure to say that the entire record is made in spaces myself and Adam have acoustically designed, tuned, or made. True Level is co-owned with Casey, Adam and myself. We went to Sound Acres to track drums and then brought it back to True Level Studio to track everything else. Holly was able to step in on vocal production and recording, and as co-writer that led to really vulnerable tracking sessions.

PM: What are you most excited for now that the album is out?

TC: I am ecstatic to show people how these songs translate live. Rather then a direct redo of the sonic experimentation and exploration the record goes down, we went for a more emotion based translation of what the songs felt like. This creates an experience that has a relationship to the record but is also completely new and has room to expand.

PM: What are you hoping to get out of this release?

TC: I wanted to put it out there as a way to heal myself but if it helps anyone else get through anything that would be a cherry on top

PM: Any plans for touring this year? As a studio owner and a band with band members who are involved in many other projects, will that make touring challenging, if that’s something you’re interested in?

TC: As of right now, we hope to play locally as much as possible, and our release show is May 11 at Ortliebs! No tour on the books as of yet, but I’d never count it out! We’re all getting good at working from where and when we can these days so hopefully we are able to take any opportunities that come our way.

PM: Are there any bands you’d like to tour with? Dream tour lineup?

TC: Dream line up for me would be opening for Pedro the Lion, Broken Social Scene, and probably Radiohead headlining. Wild.

PM: What are some artists you’ve been listening to lately?

TC: Right now it’s the new Orville Peck, Soul Glo, and Wet Leg records with some old Willie Nelson records mixed in there.

PM: Anything else you’d like to add?

TC: Our record Incomplete Structures comes out tomorrow (5/6) and our record release show on (5/11) in Philadelphia at Ortlieb’s!

[leejungchans]

random juliet moments.

(a/n: this will probably be updated regularly as i think of more things to add!! i tried to organise these chronologically to the best of my ability but there may be some inconsistencies, so apologies in advance!!🤍)

started crying when she saw yunho cry at their first fansign

when hongjoong forgot to say “dul, set” and said “8 makes 1 team” alone, san and juliet coincidentally said “1 makes 1 team” to clown him and they looked at each other like 👁👄👁

when san backwashed into his bottle of cola and hongjoong unknowingly drank from it which made her go 👁👄👁 and she made san pinky-promise that he wouldn’t do that to her

when felix, chan and somi hugged her when ateez got their first win on m countdown

when she wrote another one of their iconic instagram live “please leave” signs in her pretty cursive handwriting

she really said “𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓋𝑒 ❤️” 😭😭😭

when that one australian interviewer asked “if you don’t have any sexiness or charisma like me, what do you do then?” and she half-jokingly went “yeah, that’d be tragic”

cried at their concert in sydney and couldn’t sing for the remainder of the song they were performing because she was crying so much

said “sorry, this is his mission, i’m just here for moral support” when the employees at the pharmacy heard her speak fluent english and asked her to translate for mingi during ateez treasure film

(disclaimer: i’m pretty sure mingi mentioned in a v-live that the producers (?) of ateez treasure film told him to exaggerate the mission for entertainment purposes. so this is in no way trying to make fun of anyone’s english, and is intended to be light-hearted. as someone whose mother tongue isn’t english, and is currently learning a fourth language, i can say with full confidence that learning other languages is really, really hard and i’m so proud of the boys for their english!! in conclusion, mingi english king and mingi bestest boy!! 🥺)

climbed the sydney harbour bridge with seonghwa and mingi for the former’s mission

when they all went to juliet’s house in sydney to have dinner with her family during ateez treasure film; she also saw her cat in person for the first time in years and teared up because it had grown a lot

also cried during the confessional activity on the beach while filming ateez treasure film and clung to seonghwa and yunho for the rest of the activity

reacted to the ateez meme song with hongjoong

“ateez meh-meh song?” pls he’s so cute

*dying in the background* “MEME song” 😭

laughed for 5 minutes straight after seeing yunho in his thor costume

showed off a hydro flask that she customised during a v-live before going “sksksksksksksksk”; this moment went viral on stan twitter

eating fairy bread and toast with vegemite during a v-live

making the boys and their staff try vegemite

san: “ewwwww!”

“yAH! YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO EAT A SPOONFUL! THAT’S NOT HOW YOU EAT VEGEMITE!”

almost said “fuck” once during a v-live with wooyoung and he immediately slapped a hand over her mouth

“everyone, i apologise on her behal—JULIET WAS THAT YOUR TONGUE DID YOU JUST LICK MY HAND”

after joking about choosing a leader for the ‘99 line on idol radio, the djs asked juliet what leader she was, and she teasingly replied that she was the leader of k-pop’s “aussie line”; felix later brought this up in a v-live with chan to clown her

when it was time to shoot her solo scenes for the music video for answer no one could find her and everyone panicked until they found her curled up in a corner sleeping

was close to snapping during a group v-live because of the hate comments and didn’t bother masking her irritation towards the end; jongho had to pat her head to subtly calm her; this was the first time atiny’s ever saw her angry on camera and realised how scary she could be

when a few atiny’s brought juliet flowers during a fansign which made her incredibly happy for the rest of the event, so now atiny’s bring her flowers all the time

was so focused on eating during a v-live that she was completely oblivious to some of the boys quietly watching her eat adoringly

when an atiny told her that they hadn’t eaten yet at a fansign and she asked them to pinky-promise that they would eat something after the event

almost lost her shit with san when seonghwa rapped on weekly idol

covering “someone you loved” on weekly idol which went viral

almost died laughing when they sang “wonderland” in spanish on hello82

fangirled over basically every artist during mama 2019; clips of her just having the time of her life went viral and many asked about “the girl in the boy group who was jamming out”

when san almost gave her a heart attack by spinning the gold play button; she was still very impressed

rounded up all 8 of her members to sing “thank you” to them during “thank u” at their seoul concert and make them all emotional

during the same concert, she accidentally whacked herself over the head with her mic when waving to fans and went “ ᵃ ʰ ”

she’s babie :(

randomly asked “toes for fingers or fingers for toes” during a v-live and the other members looked at her like 👁👄👁 for a good minute

got very passionate about having fingers for toes being better than having toes for fingers

“how will you even find shoes that are big enough?” “custom shoes, duh🙄”

almost died laughing during san and mingi’s round in the “scream in silence” game during their v-live

nearly lost her cool from playing the “scream in silence” game with yeosang

“yOU I D I O T”

made friendship bracelets for herself, the boys, and some of their staff members on an episode of juliet’s archive; they can all be seen wearing the bracelets frequently

when she couldn’t attach the wristband to her lightiny and asked seonghwa for help, but he couldn’t do it either so they looked at each other in exasperation for a few seconds before deciding to give up together

wore her huge platform boots in a v-live so she could be taller than hongjoong, much to his dismay

when she tried to show her boots off by lifting up her leg, she forgot she was wearing a dress; seonghwa immediately panicked and moved in front of her to shield her from the camera, not knowing she was wearing shorts underneath the dress

watching seonghwa’s birthday v-live in the corner with san

when their staff brought out a “cake” that was built from packets of timtams for her birthday v-live and it made her so happy she almost cried

reacted to hongjoong’s cover of “black or white” during a solo v-live and teared up

when an atiny asked her to help with their maths homework during a v-live and she said “uh...i’m probably the last person you’d want to ask...”

cried during an inception music show performance because she got so into the performance; it scared atiny’s until she went on v-live explaining what happened

helping yunho expose san on weekly idol

when she imitated seonghwa’s “num-num” and did the “ottoke” song on weekly idol and made everyone on and off set soft for her

when her and wooyoung both lost it when yeosang sucked on a piece of radish on weekly idol during a game

when she said “i have the only braincell in ateez” and was almost immediately clowned by atiny’s who made compilations of moments when she acted questionably

“jeez, you guys didn’t have to come for me like that”

said “wow, geography king” when yunho said “thank you, scandinavia” for his “thanxx” acoustic poem during idol live tv

during a game on idol live tv, she caught wooyoung and yeosang copying the answer to the number of days since ateez’s debut from atiny’s live comments and subsequently changed her answer, unbeknownst to them

when even san didn’t want her to eat the “detergent hwachae” he, hongjoong, yeosang and mingi made on studiok

she ate it anyways and it was instant regret

“we’re not friends anymore >:(” — to jongho on ateez fever road after hongjoong found the real key which was attached to jongho’s bag all along

was so scared when the masked man appeared during ateez fever road that she hid behind hongjoong and they freaked out together

but started laughing when the masked man “kidnapped” wooyoung

“if we let you have him you won’t come back for us, right?” “yAH! BAEK MINYOUNG!”

then did the “7 makes 1 team” chant with the others, excluding jongho and wooyoung after the former suggested “saving” wooyoung

was slouching in a chair in the background of an ateez log but immediately got up and sat upright once the cameraman came over to film her while pretending nothing happened

when one atiny showed their cat during a video call with her and she went “CAT :D”

when she went on and on about her coffee preferences and opinions during a solo vlive without realising, and wooyoung had to call her for her to realise that she had been ranting about coffee for five minutes straight 💀

when she was about to fight hongjoong for slandering mint chocolate chip ice cream

being an iconic legend when she was on the kpop daebak podcast with eric nam (and also fangirled over him)

dancing to what type of x by jessi with san and yunho during their kcontact 3 interview

“jessi-sunbaenim i love you!!”

(a/n: ajshakjska this is so long i’m so sorry 😔😔)

[darlingandmreames]

No One Knows (Until Everyone Knows)

(also on ao3)

Ariadne got a couple of blocks away from the workshop before she reached for her phone and found an empty pocket instead. If it had been anything else- except maybe her keys, she needed those unless she wanted to sleep outside- she would’ve just kept going and grabbed them when she got in the next day. Not her phone though. That she needed.

The door was still unlocked when she tried the handle and the lights were on when she slipped back inside. Normally she would’ve assumed it was Cobb, he tended to stay late, but he’d headed out surprisingly early that day. Both Arthur and Eames had still been finishing up working when she’d left, though, so at least one of them must have still been in. It was a bit late for both of them, particularly Eames, but she’d long given up trying to figure out any of their schedules. If taking this job had taught her anything it was that people in the dream sharing field had the most incomprehensible sleep and work schedules of anyone she’d ever met. 

“We should head out soon.”

“I heard you the first six times. Let me finish this first.” Ariadne could almost hear Arthur rolling his eyes. “Unlike you, I am actually doing work.”

She smiled, half listening to their conversation in the other room as she scanned the tables for her phone. Out of everyone it had taken her the longest to get used to working with the two of them. On their own they were both fine; they both had their oddities but were still nice enough, and Arthur in particular had been helpful and patient as Ariadne had tried to adjust to dream sharing and manipulating. The two of them together, though, was a very different story. They argued constantly and she'd thought at first that they didn't like each other, but she realized quickly enough that their bickering was more banter than actual arguing. They were an odd pair, but entertaining once she'd gotten more used to it. 

"I was working but then you said you were almost ready to head out so I stopped working. You're the one holding us up."

"You realize you can just leave without me, right? You're under no obligation to wait if my desire to actually do my job is bothering you so much."

Ariadne could already see them in her mind. Arthur sitting at the table he'd staked out as his, papers spread around him, Eames leaning against the table next to him, grinning and arms crossed. It was a scene she'd seen plenty of times over the past couple of weeks, sometimes multiple times a day.

It was not the scene she found when she finally rounded the corner, however. Some pieces were the same- Arthur was indeed standing at his usual table, papers spread around him- but Eames wasn’t leaning against the table. He was standing behind Arthur, his arms wrapped around Arthur’s waist and chin resting on his shoulder as Arthur sifted through various papers. “And miss out on your delightful company?” He kissed Arthur’s cheek. “Never.”

She watched, surprised, as Arthur laughed quietly. “Thought I was difficult and annoying?”

“You are. Very annoying. Especially when you’re keeping me from heading back to the hotel.”

Ariadne backed up around the corner and back out of view quietly, feeling awkward. She certainly couldn’t say she was shocked, the two of them spent most of their time walking the very thin line between banter and outright flirting, but still. She’d never seen them like this, and she got the feeling that was very much intentional. She hesitated a moment, thinking over her options, before dropping her keys loudly on the concrete floor. She took her time picking them up, trying to make as much noise as she could without it being obvious that that's what she was doing. Let them know she was there and give them a moment to move if they wanted to before she walked in.

Sure enough when she rounded the corner again Eames was leaning against the table several feet from Arthur, who suddenly seemed singularly focused on whatever papers he had in front of him. Ariadne smiled apologetically. “Sorry, I know I already said night for the evening, but have either of you seen my phone? I think I left it here, and I didn’t see it on any of the tables in the other room.”

Eames glanced around, frowning, before pointing to the counter. “Is that it?”

She followed his finger, smiling in relief when she spotted her phone lying next to some of Yusuf’s equipment. “Shit, yeah, thanks.” She slipped it into her pocket and gave a quick wave as she headed back towards the door, walking quickly. She already felt awkward for interrupting, no need to make it worse by staying longer than absolutely necessary. “Okay, goodnight for real this time!”

Ariadne glanced back once she was back outside, the light from the workshop shining dimly through the obscured windows. That…certainly hadn't been what she'd expected to find. It was sweet though, honestly. And it certainly put their bickering in a new light. She wondered if Cobb knew; he and Arthur clearly knew each other fairly well, so if anyone else knew it'd be him. Given their apparent desire to keep their relationship hidden, though, she doubted it. She set off down the sidewalk toward her apartment, smiling slightly. Well, he wouldn't hear it from her. 

XXX

When Saito had first begun considering hiring Dominic Cobb to perform inception, he’d done his homework. Arthur Cohen- though Saito doubted that was his real name- had come up repeatedly in the process, and Saito hadn’t been surprised in the least to find him working this job as well. He was known for being one of the best pointmen in the field and for being serious, efficient, and perfectionistic. And he had very much lived up to that reputation in the short time Saito had been working with him.

Unless Eames was around.

“Thank you for your input, Eames, it was most helpful.”

Eames leaned back in his chair with what might have passed as a polite smile if he’d been aiming it at anyone else. Saito couldn’t tell which Eames seemed to enjoy more: starting disagreements with Arthur, or egging him on once they began. Either way it was a common enough occurrence that Saito knew exactly what was coming. This was the third time they’d gone at it in as many hours. “Well someone has to bring some imagination to the job, and it clearly isn’t going to be you, love.”

“Yes, your imagination is always so wonderfully helpful. Like on the Barraker job, remember how helpful it was then? It even managed to get me shot if I remember correctly.”

“See?” Eames grinned. “Very helpful indeed.”

Cobb sighed. “Focus, gentlemen. Please.” He turned back to papers spread out across the table. “We need to figure out how to get Fischer from ‘I will create something for myself’ on the second level to ‘my father doesn’t want me to be him’ on the third. It’s a logical leap, but still a bit of a leap all the same.”

That was when it happened. A small smile that was more warm than teasing, met with an eye roll that was more fond than annoyed. The exchange was over almost immediately and both men were back to paying attention to Cobb like nothing had happened. If Saito hadn’t been specifically watching the two of them he would’ve missed it, and as it was he seemed to be the only one who’d caught it. 

Saito'd had several affairs over the years. He'd never married himself, nor did he intend to, but several of his partners had been, so he knew that game quite well. Hiding affection in plain sight. Stolen glances when no one else was looking, lingering touches that were just brief enough to still look casual, carefully maintained appearances and interactions that often carried a second, more intimate meaning. He was familiar with all of them, having been both the initiator and recipient of them on numerous occasions. It was a game built on subtlety. On delicacy. On smiles and eye rolls when no one else was paying attention. 

He continued watching Arthur and Eames as the conversation continued but the moment didn't repeat itself, not even when they started bickering again a few minutes later. Saito couldn't help but wonder what they were like when they were alone; the fondness and warmth had been brief, but it hinted at a side to both men that was surprising. It perhaps shouldn't have been- he knew as well as anyone that a professional persona was often little more than that, a persona- but it was nonetheless.

He sighed slightly and went back to actually listening to what Cobb was saying. He was the one who'd insisted on being this involved in the job in the first place, the least he could do was pay attention. 

XXX

For a profession that took place almost entirely while asleep, dream sharing was full of people with terrible sleep schedules. Even occasional somnacin use fucked with the circadian rhythm and the amounts professional extractors used were enough to completely destroy any hope of a regular sleeping pattern. So Yusuf didn't think twice about knocking on Eames' hotel door at 11pm. He was three cups of coffee in and eager to share the breakthrough he'd just had, nearly vibrating with a combination of caffeine and excitement. Actively working with a team on a job opened up so many new possibilities that he'd never really had the chance to explore running his shop back in Mombasa, and he was thrilled to finally have the chance to do so. 

Eames gave him a tired smile when he opened the door. "Yes, hello Yusuf, can I help you?"

He looked surprisingly disheveled, his shirt untucked and hair out of place, and Yusuf briefly wondered if he'd maybe been getting ready for bed. Even if he was this wouldn't take long, and Yusuf was too excited to not tell someone what he'd figured out. "I was working- well, I was actually making coffee, but that's a necessary part of working, so basically the same thing- and I realized something." He pushed past Eames and into his room. He had a tendency to get a little loud once he got going, so he figured it'd be best if they didn't have this conversation in the hallway. "So the compound we'll be using creates a super clear connection, right? Between dreamers? And normally we talk about that just in relation to the team members, but it obviously includes the mark as well! That means when you're impersonating Browning on the first level you could…"

Yusuf stopped, confused, when he got into the main part of Eames' room. He'd assumed Eames would be alone because, well, it was 11pm on a Tuesday. Not exactly prime time for company. But Arthur was there too, laying on the bed. He was propped up on his elbows, expression somewhere between mortification and murderous intent. It would've been pretty funny, honestly, if it hadn't been directed at Yusuf. He frowned. Had Arthur come in to talk about the job with Eames as well? He couldn't think of any other reason for him to be here. He looked a bit disheveled too, jacket laying on the ground beside the bed and shirt partially unbuttoned, which was odd given how proper Arthur usually was, and… Yusuf stopped.

Oh.

Oh no.

"Did you need something?" 

Arthur's tone was tight and yeah, that was definitely murderous intent in his expression. "I, uh…" Yusuf glanced around, panicking. This was bad. He needed to get out of here. "I, um, you know, it's really not that important. It can, uh, it can wait. Until tomorrow. Yeah. I'm, um, I'm going to, uh, go now."

"That'd be great, thanks." Eames was still standing by the door, pinching the bridge of his nose and looking like he wanted Yusuf out of the room just as much as Yusuf wanted to leave. He moved aside as Yusuf hurried passed him and back out into the hallway. "Oh, and Yusuf?"

Yusuf turned around, trying to keep his expression neutral. "Y-yeah?"

"This, um," Eames ran a hand through his hair, giving Yusuf an embarrassed smile, "this just stays between us, yeah?"

Yusuf nodded. Keep it quiet, he could do that. "Not a word."

"Thanks." Eames closed his door and Yusuf hurried back to his own room. He closed the door behind him and quickly locked it, deadbolt and chain, just for good measure. He didn't think Arthur would actually kill him- there were clearly…other things to occupy his attention right now- but he still intimidated Yusuf enough that he figured it was better safe than sorry.

It was a bit sweet though, now that he had a chance to actually think about it. The two of them were insufferable around each other but in the sort of way a kid was insufferable around their crush, and he'd wondered if they had a bit of a thing for each other. It was nice to know he'd been right, even if it meant avoiding Arthur for the next few days.

XXX

In retrospect, Dom felt rather stupid for not having seen it earlier.

He'd known Arthur a long time. He’d actually been the architect on the first job Arthur ever worked, which was how they’d met, and they’d worked together relatively frequently in the years since. He was the only person Dom had worked with who had met his kids, even if just briefly, and he’d been one of the only semi-stable parts of Dom’s life since Mal’s death. They’d had their differences over the years, but Dom unquestionably considered him a friend. Probably the closest one he had anymore, and he liked to think he knew at least a decent bit about him.

One of the things he knew was that Arthur and Eames bickered. They always had, ever since the first job Dom had worked with both of them. It was just what they did. That was the unspoken arrangement of any job both of them were working: you got an excellent point man, an excellent forger, and a guarantee that they’d refuse to shut up or get along for more than 5 minutes for the entirety of the job. Dom had occasionally wondered if it was more flirting than actual bickering- it certainly walked the line sometimes- but he’d never really given it much mind. Even if it had been flirting, there hadn’t been anything behind it.

Except maybe there had.

Because Arthur’s voice wasn’t usually as soft, or as fond, as it was when he told Eames to go to sleep. Dom glanced over at him as he rolled up his own sleeve. Eames had already gone under but Arthur was still crouched by him, Eames’ hand in his. It was small, maybe nothing for most people, but Dom knew Arthur. Knew him pretty well, or at least as well as Arthur let anyone know him. He wasn’t nearly as cold or emotionless as people tended to assume he was, but he also wasn’t a particularly affectionate person, not openly at least. And that was affection in his expression, clear as day.

He looked away as Arthur stood back up, busying himself with his IV. That…wasn't a side of Arthur he'd really seen before, and he got the feeling that was intentional. Arthur was a private man after all, even for someone in their profession, and this was far from a good time to risk infringing on that. There was more than enough shit going on that was more important, and Arthur would have his hands full enough trying to hold off Fischer's sub-security for Dom to risk throwing him off; their lives depended on Arthur being focused. 

"Hey, you ready?"

"Yeah, just…just give me a sec." Dom finished rolling up his sleeve and got ready to insert the line. Maybe he'd ask after the job, assuming they all made it.

XXX

Arthur was usually a pretty even keeled person. Years of working in the underworld of extraction meant that very little surprised him anymore, and he tended to be unfazed by most things. Even when things did manage to surprise him he'd long learned to keep it hidden below the surface, away and out of sight. Right now, though, he felt almost giddy.

They’d done it. They’d fucking done it. Inception. It’d gone sideways in just about every way possible, but they’d still done it. It was an amazing feeling and as Eames came up beside him, Arthur couldn’t help but look at him with a grin. Eames raised an eyebrow, chuckling. “You’re in a good mood.”

“And you’re not?”

“Course I am.” Eames grinned back and leaned in slightly, his hand brushing briefly against Arthur’s hip. “You just don’t usually show it so openly.”

Arthur leaned in as well, resting against Eames' arm. "I have my moments."

"That you do, darling," Eames laughed. "That you do." After a moment he shifted, slipping his arm around Arthur's waist. They generally avoided any sort of public affection but Arthur leaned into the touch, wrapping his own arm around Eames' waist in return. Eames laughed again. "You really are in a good mood."

"Just looking forward to celebrating a job well done." He rested his head against Eames' shoulder. Across the baggage carousel Saito caught his eye, raising an eyebrow, and Arthur shrugged slightly in return. "I was thinking dinner?"

"Mm, maybe a few drinks too." Eames pulled him in slightly. "I know a wonderful bar near the hotel, one of my favourites in the city."

"Sounds like an excellent plan." Knowing Eames, a favourite bar could refer to anything from an exclusive establishment to a hole in the wall dive bar, and Arthur absolutely couldn't find it in him to care which it was. All that mattered was that it was the two of them, celebrating. 

The baggage area slowly began to clear out as people's luggage began dropping down onto the carousel. Yusuf hurried by them, bag in hand, glancing at them briefly and nodding before looking away again almost immediately. Eames chuckled and Arthur couldn't help but smile as well; he'd been awkward around them ever since he'd stopped by Eames' room unannounced, even going so far as to avoid the both of them as much possible for a few days afterwards. Ariadne seemed to have no such qualms, though, flashing them a wide grin as she walked by. Arthur smiled back; if Ariadne stayed in the dreamsharing field- which Arthur had a feeling she would, reality was never enough after getting a taste for dream construction- he had no doubt he and Eames would get a comment or two from her the next job they worked together.

The giddiness faded somewhat as he and Eames waited for their bags to appear, but the sense of excitement and disbelief stayed. Arthur caught Dom's eye as he made his way across the room and Dom nodded, his own expression mirroring Arthur's disbelief. They'd really done it. They'd performed inception. Completed a job that shouldn't have been possible and gotten Dom home. Arthur hummed happily as Eames rested his cheek against the top of his head. It would be nice to spend the night out, dinner and drinks and wherever else they ended up until they finally ended up back at the hotel, riding the high of what they'd managed to pull off. After everything, they deserved it. 

[slothgiirl]

percolating gently (noah x mc)

au in which jane marshall lives and mc and noah and jane run off to live happily ever after a family of three and also smut (if you don’t want to read that skip the section that goes “its christmas, technically”. 

title from a tennessee williams quote 

15k

It's the three of them in the end. Jane. Noah. And you. Just like it started. Just like it had been.

Always you caught up between the two Marshall twins; Jane’s hand in yours gripping tight and never backing down as she poured water into dirt to make mud. At nine, and never having shared Jane’s attention before, Noah had snubbed you on more than one occasion, shooting down watching Resident Evil just because you had suggested it.

It was funny how you'd befriended Noah first. Jane had a fever the week your parents moved to Westchester (to study some microbe that was super rare or some other incredibly niche nerdy thing). You'd been left to roam the neighborhood on your own as per usual, drawing trees and pets you wished for in chalk, and then Noah.

Noah.

Redfield- Jane’s let up at least a little. You're no longer stuck to that awful chair in terror but griping Noah's shoulders, your fingers clutching the fabric of his denim jacket because he can't, you won't let him take her place.

He's been through so much already.

They both had.

“Noah,” you stammer out, chilled to the bone from terror or the fact that you were in a damp and freezing underground chamber--probably both. “Noah, you can't!” You tighten your grip on him even as his frown deepens, anger clear on his features as he glares down at you.

You cut him off before he can snap at you. Looking over at Jane, no longer blazing, but hovering around, a shadow spilling into the corners of the room, eyes a cold blue without an ounce of friendliness or curiosity.

“I'm sorry,” you tell her, because this was all your fault. You should've never encouraged her. You should've saved her. You should've done more: anything but brush the memory of her away instead of dealing with the events of that summer. Denial had long been your method of choice but here Jane was. It had all been real.

You owe her this much.

And Noah-

“I promised I'd be there for you,” you think of the whistle, “I promised I'd protect you so that's what I'm going to do now,” you say even as your hands shake. “Let me take your place.”

You move to stand, but Noah doesn't budge, his head shaking as his agonized wide eyes meet yours. There's always been a sincere quality in the warmth of Noah's brown eyes that put you at ease and had you feeling like you two were the only people in the world and you could never say no to him; not now. He's a mess (just how you feel), beanie about to slide off his tangled hair, tear tracks down his cheeks. There's a pull in your chest, the painful need to throw your arms around him and hug him until the world stops being this shitty but you doubt you'd ever leave his side if you hug him now.

Noah shakes his head. “It should be me,” he utters into the eerie acoustics of the chamber, the horror of the situation audible in his voice. “It should have been me then. I can finally make things right.”

Your lip grumbles as you cry out, “don't say that,” your hand reaching up to cup his cheek, “don't you dare say that bullshit Noah-we were kids! None of this,” you look around, look at Jane, “this shouldn't have happened to anyone. And it wasn't anyone's fucking fault!”

If-when you got out of this, you were going to throw hands with Mrs. Marshall.

You used to wish she’d been your mother.

The shadow that is Jane inches closer.

Right.

It had to be you or him.

His skin was warm against your hand and you don't-you don’t think you can live in a world where Noah isn't there and he's had the shittiest time and you could've reached out but you didn't and he doesn't deserve this because he thinks he deserves this.

Noah thinks he should've died.

Fuck.

This was all so fucked up.

“It's okay,” Noah whispers softly, his hand covering yours before gently removing your hand from his cheek, removing your hold on him. “It's okay.”

“But-” you look at Jane.

You didn't know what was worse, a world without Noah in it or a world where Noah became some twisted monster the same way Jane had over the years of loneliness. No one started out a monster.

You shake your head, reaching for Noah's hand, “I promised I wasn't leaving you again.”

His eyes widen in shock, giving him that doe eyes look that sort of made you want to kiss him, as if he'd forgotten all about that moment, as if he thought he wasn't worth it but Noah deserved more than death. He should get to go to culinary school and deal with shitty customers at Baby Jane’s.

And it was too late to save the day.

If you were being honest, it was nine years too late. It was all about doing the best you could  in impossible circumstances because Jane didn't deserve to spend an eternity alone and scared and a monster either.

Intertwining your fingers with his, you swallow thickly before replying in a steady voice, having made your choice the moment Noah had been willing to go find Dan alone, when he'd opened up to you at the shop and you realized all this time it hadn't just been you dealing with the repercussions of Redfield, “Together.”

You weren't going to fail Noah again.

Noah is speechless.

But Jane was always able to go with the flow. A shadowy limb ghost over both your hands, in the vein of those cheesy moments in anime when a best friend speech got everyone through a big battle.

“Allll play too g etherR.”

“Yeah,” Noah says sadly, accepting that there was no version of this ending that didn't end in tragedy. “together.”

At least this way, you could be monsters together.

“It's okay Jane,” he tells his sister, his hand squeezing yours, “we’ll take over from here.”

*

*

*

You wake up cold, thinking that you'd left your bedroom window open (not that you were doing much sleeping in that room after the Dan night terror) again, but you're greeted with the sight of Jane curled up asleep between you and Noah looking the same as she had at the many sleepovers you'd have at their house. You don't know if she's real or if this is a dream or if you're dead and this is just a figment of your new reality, but you don't care.

Finally, you understand the ending of Inception.

You don't want to wake them up, still exhausted yourself, but Jane keeps shivering and you can only imagine how worried your friends were. Your phone’s dead.

You couldn't stay here.

“Noah,” you whisper, the sound echoing throughout the chamber. “Noah…”

He grumbles in his sleep, but doesn't wake up.

“Noah,” you hiss.

“What,” Noah slurs, shifting as he lifts his head, jostling Jane at his side but your friend who was dead, was previously dead, continues to sleep looking like a particularly angelic little girl.

You can tell when the situation dawns on him: the twitch of his lips as his mouth settles into a frown, brows becoming drawn in thought.

It's day outside.

You're not sure which day.

Noah's phone is also dead.

Both of you stumble through the woods half asleep, Noah carrying Jane as if she was the most precious thing in the world which she was because she had been dead but now she wasn't and you were beginning to hope this was real and not a trick and that Jane was getting a shot at a normal childhood.

“We should go to my house,” you offer, keeping your voice low as to not disturb Jane who continued to sleep, no wonder Andy and Ava had been able to draw so many mustaches on her back in the day. “It's closer.”

And also you had no way of explaining how Jane had suddenly come back to life. That was something to process later. First a warm bed and sleep and then you had to let your friends know you weren't dead and figure out the whole Jane being alive with Noah. But first, sleep.

“Yeah, okay,” Noah answer’s, clearly still in shock. “Sounds good.” He says as if you two were discussing the weather and not sudden resurrection.

Then again, was this really that big of a leap considering everything that happened in the last few months?

You kick off your shoes and curl up with the Marshall twins to sleep.

*

*

*

“Why are you so much taller,” Jane asks once you’ve all woken up and yes, Jane’s still there, flesh and blood and the idea begins to solidify that she’s alive and well, well maybe not, you don’t know how much she remembers if at all and you still don’t know what to do with her but for now Noah’s rifling around your sparse kitchen, sending you a judgemental look at the half empty pancake box mix that expired a month ago but there’s no gross mold or anything so he uses it anyway, unwilling to leave Jane alone for a second.

Noah smiles easily, which has you smiling, “I’m not tall,” he replies to his sister, “you just shrunk.”

She frowns, nose wrinkling and you had forgotten she did that when she was upset, her nose wrinkling up as her lips turn downward. It was adorable. Then in classic Jane fashion she decides, “that’s a lie.” And sticks her nose up in the air, her fingers continuing to do whatever in your hair. It feels nice, her small fingers weaving clumsily through your thick hair, but Jane had never actually learned to braid so you’re pretty sure she’s just tangling your hair up but you wouldn’t refuse Jane anything right now.

It’s been days since the dance.

You have countless missed calls from your friends, texts getting increasingly and increasingly panicked, and nothing from either of your parents.

“Turn around,” Jane squeaks, tapping your shoulder urgently.

“Alright, alright,” you say, shifting in your seat. She’s tiny. All red hair and freckles and she hasn’t left your side since waking you up, knees in your side as she’d yelled that she was bored and wanted to play so loud it had woken Noah up.

Jane looks at you with a frown. “You’re big too.” Then her lower lip wobbles.

Shit.

Hastily, you pull her onto your lap, wrapping your arms around her.

“Why am I still small,” she whispers, looking up at you with the same wide brown eyes you were so used to.

“Uh,” you swallow thickly, trying to figure something out because maybe she didn’t remember and wasn’t that for the best? Wouldn’t that be the best case scenario? The only problem is you’re barely eighteen and not at all prepared to handle a nine year old. Had you really been this small when your parents decided to fuck off? “It’s because. . .you’re special, like Peter Pan.”

She crunches up her nose for a second, thinking. Then in her child innocence, she nods, deciding she likes the explanation. “You should’ve come with me,” Jane pats your cheek sadly, “grown ups are so boring.”

Noah wheezes, a pancake slipping off the spatula as his shoulders shake with laughter.

You hadn’t had time to talk about what had happened, what he had done, and you certainly hadn’t had time to process your feelings on any of it, but you were always glad to see him laughing.

“Someone had to take care of your dumb brother,” you reply, legs kind of going numb with her weight.

Jane nods sagely, “Noah is dumb. Because he’s a changeling.”

When you were kids, you’d both been obsessed with goblins and trolls and fairy tales. You two would dig in the dirt looking for hag stones. Sticks would double as magic wands and swords. The old fur jacket Jane liked to play dress up with was her selkie skin and you would take turns hiding it around the house.

Noah rolls his eyes. He hadn’t liked your weirdo kid games the first time around, he liked them even less now and you can’t help but grin at his expense. “You’re the redhead in the family.”

Jane blows a raspberry.

What a way to win an argument.

It’s past midnight before Jane crashes.

You’re on your third watch of frozen which had seemed like a great way to keep Jane inside the first time when you’d suggested it (kids loved that movie) and had become the worst, as Jane made you watch the movie again and again, singing “do you want to build a snowman” at the top of her lungs. That hadn’t stopped you and Noah from helping her find all the pillows in your house to build a castle with. Your living room has become a pillow castle fort.

During the second watch, Jane had dug around through your closet, before finding a blue hoodie you didn’t even remember you had and tying it around her shoulders. “You’re Anna,” she’d told you, giving you pigtails when she gave up on braids.

Now, she was asleep on the couch, drooling on her pillow.

Noah immediately turns off the TV. “You couldn’t have put on Shrek?”

You’re sitting next to him on the floor, finally giving into the urge to look at the news on your phone. You hadn’t risked it while Jane was awake. She was a nosy child.

You frown, “we need to tell the others.” Because this was really happening. Jane was alive and you didn’t know what to do with that. She needed. . .fuck-she needed school and parents and probably therapy if she remembered any of it. You were just eighteen. You had no idea what to do.

Noah’s responding frown mirrors yours. “What? Why!”

“She just came back from the dead,” you reply quietly. “She needs-fuck what are we going to tell your mom?”

His expression turns angry, brows furrowing. “Fuck her. She doesn’t deserve to know.”

“Noah,” you sigh, not wanting to argue with him because what was there to argue. His mom was a shitty parent. “Dan, Andy. . .they think we’re dead. They deserve to know after what happened. They deserve an explanation.”

He flinches.

“And besides-we’re in high school! What are we-what the hell are we going to do with her,” you say gently because you couldn’t keep her cooped up in your house. You had things like high school and maybe college if you could salvage this quarter. You didn’t have a job. “She needs parents. And school. And. . .” You throw your hand sup in the air. You had no clue what she needed. You weren’t a functioning adult. You didn’t know what kids need.

“She has me.” Noah hisses back.

You roll your eyes. “I know that-fuck Noah,” becuase he was getting angry with you when all you were trying to do was help. God, he could be so freaking dense sometimes. “She deserves a normal childhood. How the hell are we supposed to do that for her? Does she remember any of it?” You cross your arms over your chest and stare at your feet. The garish pink nail polish was still intact.

Didn’t people need birth certificates and stuff?

Lucas would know.

Lily could probably do her computer thing and help with that.

He falls silent, glaring at the blank TV screen.

Noah’s breathing is harsh and you wait patiently.

“I can drop out,” Noah finally says quietly. “Get a job. . .”

“I’m going to call Lily,” you reply. “We need groceries anyway.” Like hell were you leaving Jane for even a second. This time, you mean to keep your promise.

*

*

*

Jane bursts into tears when she sees all her friends grew up without her, eyes turning red as tears streamed down her eyes and she buried her face in Noah’s chest, refusing to budge. He rubs his hand comfortingly against her back, carrying her upstairs.

Even from the living room, still a mess, you can hear her sob upstairs.

“What the absolute fuck,” Lucas utters, taking a seat, resting his head in his hands.

“Explain,” Stacy urges, already unpacking the groceries you’d requested into your kitchen.

You do.

You go over the last couple of days, most of which you spent sleeping.

“I think it says a lot about how fucked our lives are that this is only like the second craziest thing to happen to us,” Andy mutters, pacing around the room. “I mean,” he says stopping near the kitchen island, “the whole town got brainwashed!”

“Does-does she remember,” Lily asks.

You shrug, “I. . .I don’t think so. Clearly she doesn’t know why we’re all older. Maybe it’ll come back to her?” You hope it doesn’t.

“So what are we going to do,” Lily says, looking around at everyone.

Dan speaks up, “Jane could have blocked out those memories. My therapist said that can happen with traumatic events.”

“That makes sense,” you find yourself saying, slumping in your seat. You think you could just finish high school at home. It’s not like your parents would know, or care. They’re not here. That way Noah can finish high school and you can look after Jane. But then what?

“Just so we’re all on the same page,” Ava asks rhetorically, “we’re just going to ignore the fact Noah tried to kill us?”

You flinch.

“Jesus fucking christ Ava,” Andy snaps, looking just as agitated as you’ve all felt for months.

“One crisis at a time,” Stacy complains, closing the cupboard door with a hard thunk, “I can only handle one crisis at a time.” Then she looks over at you, “are you-is. . .you can stay at my house if you need to.” No one suggests Noah and Jane going to their own house.

You shake your head.

At some point, you were going to hash things out with Noah, but it wasn’t exactly anger at Noah that you felt. It was hurt and the raw heart crushing betrayal. You know you hadn't been there for him when he needed you--for years-- but you thought, you wish he had just told you about Jane being Redfield.You would have helped, you would have done anything to help Noah and Jane and maybe no one would’ve needed to play are you scared at all. Fuck.

But no. You don’t feel scared at being here with him which was what Stacy was asking about. It hadn’t even crossed your mind even once.

But it feels too private to tell them that the three of you have been inseparable since the ruins. You’d spent last night curled up on the living room floor with him. But that knowledge was yours. You weren’t about to share that.

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” You don’t feel fine. “She can’t stay in Westchester can she?” Because you’re tired and want someone else to tell you what to do for once.

“Probably not,” Lucas answers tightly, still looking freaked out, eye twitching.

“It’s not a trick or anything. . .” Andy glances around.

You shake your head. Slowly, a plan forms in your head. Your parents would pay for your college, you’d apply out of state and take the Marshall twins with you. Instead of a dorm, you’d get an apartment. It could work.

Somehow.

“Have your parents called,” Dan asks gently.

“No,” you wave off. They weren’t important. Jane was.

“Have you thought about how you’re going to explain this,” Andy asks.

You wince. “Sort of. . .I don’t know.” You put your hands in your head.

It's Ava who wraps her arm around your shoulders, “we’ll figure this out.”

“Thanks.”

*

*

*

It's a familiar type of awful that Noah’s mom doesn’t really care that he’s spent the last six months living at your house.

With a great deal of arguing at 2 in the morning while lying next to a sleeping Jane, you’d managed to convince Noah to finish high school. And you’d promptly switched to homeschooling.

Lily had come through with Jane’s paperwork, now in your bag as your friends drop you off at the nearest regional airport.

You hold Jane’s hand, the only thing keeping her from running off as she takes the sight of the airport in. She’s thrown countless fits about being cooped up. But it was too risky for her to be seen in Westchester, a small town where everyone knew she’d died. The most you could do was your backyard.

So of course you’d made up for it by letting her pick your college.

“Someplace warm and sunny,” Jane had shouted excitedly, mind going crazy with plans as your acceptance letters came in.

Months on, it’s way less awkward even if Ava and Lucas have settled on ignoring Noah.

Andy hugs you hard. “Call when you land!”

You snort, “duh.”

Lily smiles and adds, “I might visit for spring break.”

“That would be great,” you tell her, tightening your hold on Jane as something catches her attention.

She pivots to Noah, who had the backbone of a toothpick when it came to telling Jane no which is why she keeps getting to skip brushing her teeth in the morning which was gross and she hated you for trying to chase her down, “I want that stuffed animal. If you give me that narwhal, I’ll eat my veggies.”

“You’re eating your veggies anyway,” you reply back, dragging her along.

“You won’t have to watch frozen tomorrow.” She continues, targeting her brother ruthlessly.

Noah’s already fishing his wallet out.

“That’s what you said about the hair color,” you point out, opting to carry her when she goes limp. “Don’t you dare Noah.”

Ava grins at you, amused and unhelpful.

“It’s just a toy,” he replies.

You roll your eyes.

“You two are such parents,” Andy laughs.

“I hate you,” Jane huffs. “We’re not friends anymore.”

“She told you,” Ava snorts.

Jane beams. Then reaches for Noah, who takes her from your arms without complaint.

You hug Lily one last time, and then. . .you’re going through security.

“I get the window seat,” Jane declares once you get past TSA.

“Go for it,” you tell her, belatedly realizing it’s going to be hell if it turns out she doesn’t like planes.

She nods, satisfied.

*

*

*

Tampa is no less humid and hot and awful a month in then it was when you first got off the plane but Jane loves it and there’s a park next to the building your living in: a tiny cramped apartment with only one room which went to Jane obviously which you and Noah had originally planned for you and Jane to share but both of you had capitulated to Jane’s demands within the day. She deserved being spoiled.

The A/C in Ikea was a godsend.

Sleeping on the floor with the bare necessities was not it and with you starting school next week, it was time to take your meager savings and get some furniture.

“Remember,” Noah says, pulling up the list on his phone. It had started with him grocery shopping since he cooked and needing to make a grocery list to Noah just taking over figuring out how to make the money your parents sent and his own contribution from his new job work. “Sofa bed. Bed for Jane. Blankets. One lamp. And a mattress.”

“Weren't you complaining about only having one pan this morning,” you ask as Jane drags you along to the first showroom, practically bouncing with energy.

Noah shrugs. “I can make it work.”

“Buying an extra pan won't kill us,” you counter. “We can just use my credit card.” And not eat out for the rest of the month, you didn't add.

“Let's play hide and seek,” Jane says with excitement. “I'll seek.”

You exchange glances with Noah.

Tomorrow you had to go sign her up at school. You had to go over the story with her again. Just to make sure you didn't all get in trouble.

Jane covers her eyes. “One. Two. . .”

You look around the tiny space, thinking of where to hide. Between school and Jane you weren't sure when you could or even if you could get a part time job. Noah was working at a diner during the evenings. You had gotten your classes early in the morning so you could be home with Jane while he worked. The problem was finding the extra free time to work.

Ugh.

Being an adult was hard.

But how much of an adult could you be when your parents were paying your tuition?

You head for the tiny bathroom which has a neat looking toothbrush holder and isn’t that something you need to buy? There were so many little things like a bath mat and towels and a dish rack that were only just occurring to you that were sort of essentials and jeez you really had one foot in adulthood. You don’t even hide behind the curtain, worried that Jane won’t find you easily and freak out and there’s weirdos everywhere. It was your job to look after her now. Not that Noah had asked for your help, but it was a given.

“Eight. . .nine. . .” Jane’s little voice carries and you’re struck by a flood of emotions that has your eyes tearing up.

Noah steps into the bathroom next to you, “we need a cutting board,” he says so seriously you can’t help but snort.

“What,” he asks, shaking his head at you.

“Nothing.”

He tilts his head.

You shrug, “just thinking. I don’t know. I don’t feel very grown up. And I took all the dumb towels my parents stockpiled for granted.”

“We should’ve raided your house,” he agrees, the corner of his lips lifting, “purge style.”

“Yeah,” you nod, “I never get why everyone jumps straight to murder. What does Ava always say? Redistribute the wealth, rob a bank.” You roll your eyes, scoffing, “murder.”

Noah snorts. “Pretty sure that’s Lucas. Ava’s more of a go straight to cutting people’s heads off.”

“Robespierre style,” you grin.

“Robes who?”

“Robespierre. From the french revolution.”

“I think that’s the class I must’ve ditched,” Noah admits.

You frown. “You could do community college,” because you had to corner him at some point. Noah was very good at avoiding subjects he didn’t want to talk about. “We could make it work. Do your G.E.’s”

Noah shrugs.

“Noah-” Because he said he wanted to go to culinary school and you get the urge to drop everything and buy a ranch in utah and live with Jane for the rest of your lives except Jane would hate that and grow up and leave and how are you going to afford spoiling her if you can’t get a decent job? Noah deserved to go for his dreams too.

None of you had to be defined by your incredibly shitty childhood.

Jane pops in, “found you!” She giggles in her Baby Yoda t-shirt and leggings, “you two are bad at this game! My turn!” Jane grabs Noah’s hand and drags him along to the next showroom that catches her eye, “remember,” she lectures you both, “no peeking,” before shooting off.

“What did you end up choosing for your major,” Noah asks, as you both fail to keep your eyes closed, looking over at the sofa section. It would be so freaking nice not to sleep on the carpet anymore.

“History,” you admit, “though I’m not sure it’ll stay like that. I don’t know exactly what I want to do after college. Or if I even like history enough to major in it. . .it just sounded fine at the time.” You had done well in APUSH. That had to mean something. But you had also liked your economics class. . .maybe you should do economics? “I really have no clue. Has it been ten seconds?”

“Probably,” Noah says with a smile, “nine, ten, coming to find you,” he calls out.

It’s a living room showroom, and yet Jane had managed to squeeze herself right behind a floor lamp and the TV stand. She’s a slip of a girl, but her red hair makes her easier to spot. Thank god.

“Let’s go pick out things for your room,” you offer, because you still have to go downstairs and find all the different pieces and then still go home and put them together. Thank god for uber. Oh shit, did this mean you had to get a car at some point? How do people buy cars?

“Okay,” Jane nods, immediately taking off, and she has you and Noah speed walking after her, on the border of a full out run. It was hard to be annoyed when you were still so happy to wake up in a world where Jane was alive and here and who cares that it took three hours to get her to stand still long enough to comb her hair and putting her to bed was a long drawn out affair of a bedtime story and a snack and needing to be tucked in and checking on all her toys and deciding she needed a glass of water next to her just in case she woke up thirsty.

It was worth it.

You liked not living alone.

You liked not being alone.

*

*

*

You weren't sure who was more exhausted as you finished washing the dishes. Jane was sleeping, thank god. The nice thing about Florida was it was fall and it was still warm enough to spend the evening at the park so Jane could tire herself out while you read fifty pages of your history and sociology textbook. It was what all the other moms did and you winced when Jane asked to join the soccer team that practiced at the park by your building because you didn't have the money and you could only hope she didn't ask Noah because he came home tired enough but for Jane he'd take more shifts.

There was laundry you didn't want to do and a quiz in english which was a nice class even if everyone was half asleep at 7:30 in the morning because your professor was somehow awake enough to engage and rant about short stories that thankfully weren't the same ten dead old white men you'd read in high school but actual people alive today whose english you could understand. It's night, so you don't bother drying the dishes before turning off the light. Noah had brought food which showed how tired he was. Yesterday's leftovers had saved you from attempting anything because you sucked in the kitchen as your poor microwave could attest: aluminum foil and microwaves don't mix.

Noah’s already asleep when you slide into bed next to him. You can still smell the scent of oil and grease on his skin even as you stay decidedly on your side of the bed.

It's mid september in Tampa and it's still warm and it doesn't stop you at all from curling up with a blanket.

The window panes are cracked open letting in the soft moonlight and you lay in bed, brain melted from class and reading, and look at Noah's profile and how much lighter he looked compared to a year ago. The lines around his mouth from frowning had eased; Jane teasing out a side of him that had previously shriveled up.

It's done him good to get away from his mom. To have his sister. You just wish you could do more for him.

Like he was doing for you and Jane.

You drift off to sleep. . .

“Move over,” a small voice asks, and your eyes crack open to the dark of the room and Jane a hair's breadth away with wide scared eyes, a pillow hugged to her chest. Her voice is raw, as if she'd been crying.

You move over, brain sleep addled, to make room for her.

She slips in besides you, immediately curling up in your chest the way she does when she decides she's done walking for the day: the way she runs up to Noah when he gets home from work.

“Did you have a bad dream,” you mumble, not wanting to wake up her brother.

“I don't know.” Jane admits, “I just don't want to sleep alone.”

“I thought you wanted your own room,” you tease, a little more awake now.

“I do,” she cries out loudly in the dark of the night.

You can just imagine her pouting even if you can't see her, your eyes falling shut again. “Okay. You can sleep over tonight.”

“Yay,” she whispers back. “We should draw a mustache on Noah.”

You snort, “too late. He hasn't bothered shaving in like two days.” It was a good look on him: stubble. You'd teased him ruthlessly, almost choking on your water when he'd gone pink.

Jane giggles.

“Go to sleep,” you tell her. “You have school.”

“So do you.”

“Sleep.”

“Tell me a bedtime story.”

“Jane,” you whine, rolling over away from her, because she sure wasn't going to stop. “Sleep.”

*

*

*

“Where the fuck are my shoes,” Noah says, as he stumbles around trying to find his things.

You should've folded the laundry last night. Instead, it was a pile on the floor, clean, but a mess. You had parent teacher conferences today, and of course you were rushing at the last minute. Between finishing a paper for sociology and ditching class because of the conference and it's not like your statistics professor took roll call, you were still in a towel, freshly showered.

“Check the hall closet. I told Jane to clean last night and I'm like one hundred percent sure she just stuffs everything in that closet. Dan's right, we're fucking her up by spoiling her too much.” You search the pile of clothes for a nice dress. Was that right for a parent teacher conference? You were 18, what did you know? Besides, you were like guardian adjacent. Not a parent.

“Okay,” Noah replies when you hear the door open and why can't you find any clean underwear, you just did laundry this is insane and you have like five minutes to leave or you will be late, “but why'd she only put away one shoe?”

“Don't goblins only steal left shoes or something,” you reply, finding clean underwear but giving up on the bra. You'd go with a blue and white plaid dress. It wasn't too revealing for school even if it was one of those back of the closet dresses you never actually wore.

You slip your underwear on under the towel as Noah reappears in jeans and a t- shirt, freshly shaved. “What if they ask too many questions?”

“They won't,” you wave off. “And if they do we can just lie.”

“You're a bad liar,” Noah teases, rifling around in the kitchen.

You toss the towel aside, trying incredibly hard to act cool and calm when you weren't anything but, as you go to pull the dress over your head. It's not like you were flashing him. You sleep next to Noah every night.

But then why did you feel so flustered right then. “Am not!” You squawk indignantly, turning over to look at him as your dress goes over your head and your boobs are no longer hanging out for the world to see (there was a point to curtains after all).

Noah goes bright pink when he realizes your half naked in the living room, as if he hasn't slept next to you for close to a year now but then again, you used to sleep in an old shirt and underwear and now you've got matching pjs because Noah and yeah you should probably do something about that like you had wanted to since the party ages ago now but there had been Redfield and Noah admitting he was in a terrible headspace and it wasn't the time and now. . .you brush the thought aside for now. You roll your eyes (because your cool and calm even if your heart’s beating erratically) and grab your purse, before joking, “so are you going to get a haircut or are you going to do the man bun thing.”

Noah groans, “Jane told me I looked like homeless dog.”

“Ouch,” You laugh, “when she say that?”

“She woke me up again last night but I got her to go to her bed this time.” He admits as you walk to Jane’s school.

“Again?” Fuck maybe she was having nightmares after all. “It has to be nightmares, but. . .” you trail off.

“I don't know,” Noah shrugs, “she says she doesn't remember. Just wakes up. But like why else would she keep waking up if it's not nightmares,” he frowns.

“Do you think they could be,” you purse your lips before continuing not wanting to be the one to bring it up but you sort of had too, “you think it's redfield related.”

“I really don't know,” he says, looking over at you with a sad smile.

Smiling softly, you squeeze his hand as you wait for the white pedestrian sign, “hey, she's got us. She'll be fine.”

Which makes you think about how Andy was right. You were such a mom. Had you mom-zoned yourself? That was good, you'd have to text that to Andy later.

Then you sigh, realizing that if you had a nightmare back then, your parents wouldn't have even been home for you to wake up. There had been weeks spent at Pine Springs and driving over to some niche science conference in Rochester or over to New Haven for a lecture.

“What,” Noah asks, intertwining your fingers with his as you cross the street.

“Just realizing how shitty my parents were,” you offer with a sad smile. What could you do about it now? You'd grown up.

“Just now,” Noah quips with a smirk.

You roll your eyes, “shut up.”

Jane’s teacher, an older black woman who's style leans close to Lily's own preppy academic choices, looks at you both skeptically. “You’re here for Jane Marshall's conference?”

Both you and Noah nod.

She doesn't look reassured.

You bump Noah's knee with yours, hoping he'll say something to clear things up. Neither of you looked old enough to be her parents. You had a serious case of baby face.

“Uh,” he says, still an eighteen year old who's spent most of his life bowing down to teachers authority. You understood, still feeling strange going to the bathroom during lecture without asking for permission. “I'm Jane’s brother.”

You nudge him again when it's clear he's done taking.

“Noah,” he manages.

You roll your eyes. “We’re her guardians,” you had gone over the story hundreds of times, “their parents passed,” you look down at you lap trying to look sad, “a few months ago.”

“Oh,” Jane’s teacher, Miss Sanders, says sympathetically. “I'm sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah well,” Noah trails off.

“Well Jane is a very outgoing girl,” Miss Sanders says, launching into her talk, “she's made lots of friends though sometimes getting her to be quiet during class time can be a challenge. She's at her grade level for reading and math. She does need more practice with writing longer sentences and,” she shuffles papers around, flipping through a red folder, before taking out some childish drawings. “These had me worried but in light of the loss she is going through, I think it's understandable.”

Each drawing is a variation of a theme: huge black blobs make up most of the page, with occasional stick drawings differentiated by hair color. Jane is obviously the girl with the red hair and triangle body. Redfield, she remembered something then.

Could it be subconscious?

You feel the blood leave your face as you look over at Noah. He looks just as shaken as you.

“It's normal for children going through the loss of a loved one, especially parents,” Miss Sanders tries, “to work through it in drawing and writing. But we could always let her talk to the school psychologist. Mrs. Hernandez is a wonderful child therapist.”

“Do you think it would help,” you ask, wondering if it was a good idea when Jane’s actual problem was of the supernatural variety. Maybe they would just assume that was her imagination, or her way of explaining away a loss.

“It couldn't hurt.”

You look over at Noah, slipping your hand into his, giving him an encouraging squeeze in his palm. It was his sister. It should be his call.

He pulls his hand out of yours, straightening up in the chair. “Yeah. That could be good.”

“Okay. I'll let Mrs. Hernandez know. That and make sure Jane’s reading books for AR. Her goal this year should 40 points if she wants to be part of the end of the year celebration.”

“I'll figure out where the library is,” you nod, “I'm sure she can find books while I study.”

“Sounds perfect. Any other questions.”

You look at Noah who shakes his head. He was starting to need a haircut. Even if you did like the way he looked with his hair loose.

“Alright then. It was lovely to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Marshall.”

“Oh,” heat builds up in your cheeks.

“We're not-”

“I'm not-,” you stammer, “I'm just a family friend.”

“Oh,” Miss Sander says, “I'm-sorry for assuming.”

“It's fine,” you manage, starting to leave. “Thank you. It was good to meet you.” You shake her hand, wanting to die inside.

“Nice to meet you as well,” she shakes Noah's hand and then you can finally leave.

You both hurry out the classroom, out the school.

“So that was,” Noah says, raising a brow.

“awful,” you finish. “But there were no red flags and we got free therapy out of it.”

Noah laughs, “I think we probably all need some therapy.”

“Rewatching arrested development isn't cutting it anymore,” you grin.

“I do feel like Gob most days.”

“Good,” you laugh.

“Really?”

“I don't trust people who identify with Michael. No self awareness.”

Noah laughs, “they are all horrible people.” His face becomes drawn, as he tucks loose strands of hair behind his ears. “How much do you think she remembers?”

You shrug, placing your hand on his arm. “I think it's probably bits and pieces. She did spend years and...she doesn't have nightmares? That's a good sign right? It's been months, she's not some creepy horror movie child?”

“Of course not,” he nods, looking down at you, with a frown. “She's fine. Jane's good.”

You smile shakily. “We're doing amazing. And she's happy if she hasn't stopped watching disney vlogs. No clue how we're going to swing that one if she asks.”

Noah matches you’re unsure smile, “take her to those rich people parks and call it disney.”

You snort. “It's Jane. That won't fool her.”

“It's Florida. We can just go to the beach.” He says with a shrug. “It'll be just as good.”

“Aren't there alligators though?”

Noah laughs at your expense. “Those are in the lakes and rivers.”

“Shut up. Want to go for pizza before you go to work?”

“Let's go get Indian food actually. There's this place I've been meaning to try but Jane’s-”

“Picky as fuck,” you say pointedly. “Like you used to be.”

Noah blushes. “Okay so my mom just cooked like kraft mac and cheese. That wasn't my fault.”

“And those pizza bites! I loved those,” you add, thinking back on all the sleepovers at their house as a kid. “I think when Jane came over was the only time I'd get to use peanut butter.” Your parents weren't around, but your nanny was philippina, you ate spice before kids discovered hot cheetos were delicious.

He snorts, running a hand through his hair. “We should probably get a car at some point.”

“Face it bro, we're broke. I keep wanting to tell you to get a haircut but we're broke.”

Noah raises a brow. “Fuck off. I look like post-Beatles George Harrison.”

“You wish you looked like George Harrison,” you tease.

The food was amazing. Lunch indian buffets were where it was at. And since you don't have a class right after, you offer to walk Noah to work, “I've got to walk off the food baby,” you tell him, before you head back to pick Jane up.

Noah laughs, “The malai kofta was just too good.”

“I should've stopped at three plates but buffets always make me think it's a food contest,” you admit. “My nanny would take me to this seafood buffet with her family around lunar new year and we’d spend all day there to try and eat our money's worth.” It had been your favorite holiday as a child, after your parents had decided you were old enough to be left behind, only a handful of years after they decided you were old enough to bring along with them, and you hadn't seen them even at christmas.

“Damn,” Noah says with an easy smile, “at least I had good times with my parents.” His smile is so fragile. That just means it hurt him more when things fell apart.

“I had nice times too. . .with your family.”

Noah cackles.

You cross the street to the diner he works at next to a retirement complex with what you think are the best waterfront views next to the hotels you can't afford.

It's strange.

Your entire life, Noah has been this huge part of it and you've always lived in a tiny town so you knew everyone he did and knew what he got up to just by living near him in a town of like 500 people or what felt like such a small amount, your elementary school only had one class for each grade but now you hug Noah goodbye even though he always tenses against you, as though he's unused to the physical affection and that just makes you hold him tighter, then he's heading inside and greeting people you probably will never know and he's having this whole part of his life your not a part of and one day he's going to go on and live his life without you and it hurts: watching him laugh with some waitress that's tall blonde and beautiful in a way you've never been.

It hurts but you suck it up and go pick Jane up from school.

“Don’t worry,” your friend says, holding your hand once she realizes you've been standing at the water's edge. It's warmer than you'd imagined as it laps at your bare feet.

Jane has not stopped smiling since you'd bought her a bathing suit at Target: a pink one piece with sloths. You'd been more nervous, not knowing how to swim. You also felt every single bite of pasta you'd had last night in your black bikini.

Damn Noah for being so good at cooking.

“I've got you,” Jane says, leading you out further into the water, over to where Noah's out, up to his waist and you're pretty see it's deeper than Jane is taller, but if Jane can do it-a wave, a massive looking wave comes crashing towards you both.

You don't hesitate to run away.

Noah points and laughs.

You flip him off once the wave passes, leaving your hair wet.

Jane grins. “It's okay. I won't let you drown.” She pulls you back out again, a perfectly happy water baby. She always had been fearless. And unlike you, as the water deepens, she starts to swim alongside you.

“See,” she laughs, “it's easy.” Then she pops down under.

You make it to Noah, figuring the water wasn't that crazy. No tsunami like waves to pull you out to sea and drown you.

Jane comes up for air, “I'm Jaws,” she yells at Noah, tackling his side.

“Ooof,” he says, exaggerating, “oh no, a shark, I'm. . .dead dying. . .”

Jane giggles.

“Do not,” you warn her. “I'm barely here as is.”

Noah rolls his eyes and you have a feeling there about to roast you: both of them.

“It's just a little water,” he teases.

“It's not even that deep,” Jane adds. “It's the beach!” She pops back down under the water as another wave rolls towards you.

“Fuck,” you mutter, tensing, as the wave soaks what's left of your dry hair, splashing salty water into your mouth.

Jane pops her head back up, strawberry hair plastered to her head, smiling so wide. It's November and it's still warm enough to go to the beach. Even the rain here isn't cold that way it was back home.

The world was so much bigger than Westchester.

Noah reaches his hand out to yours. You take it easily, stepping closer to him, pushing your wet hair out of your face.

He had the right idea, now looking more like the fifth beatle than a shaggy haired hippie. Less to deal with at the beach.

“You okay,” he smirks.

“Shut up. I can't swim. You know that.” You'd complained about it a hundred times as they both forced you off the pile of towels where you had planned to read through your notes. Studying, it was gross.

“You're,” Noah rolls his eyes, “it's like three feet. You're not going to drown.”

“What if,” you counter, “I trip and swallow water and drown.”

“That's not going to happen. What you can't stand up?”

“Don't,” you warn.

He smirks, “it's because you're short.”

“Asshole,” you say, smacking his bare chest. Nothing you haven't seen, you tell yourself. Act normal, you reminded yourself.

“It is!” Noah crouches down a couple inches to your height.

You roll your eyes-

-and laugh when Jane launches herself onto her brother's back.

“I'm an orca!”

Noah lets go of your hand to regain his balance. “Wow there shamu.”

Jane frowns. “Sea world is evil. Ava and I watched Blackfish.”

You vaguely remember some orca documentary that you had mostly slept through. Taking care of Jane was hard and you had fallen asleep in those early weeks whenever you got the chance.

“No seaworld then,” you shrug.

“But I do wanna go to Disneyworld. I wanna go on the star wars ride!”

“You don't even watch Star Wars,” Noah points out.

“I would if we went to Disneyworld. My birthday is coming up.”

“No it's not,” you frown. They were April babies.

“I think you mean my birthday,” Noah says playfully.”

“I was born first,” Jane yells.

“So, I'm taller.”

You roll your eyes, sinking down to your neck. The water was nice. “You better throw yourself into the water if I start drowning,” you warn Noah.

“Yeah yeah,” he says with a soft smile, “I'm not going to let you drown.”

Jane nods in agreement, “I'll kick him if he does.”

You laugh, happy to spend the days with the Marshall twins.

Bells don't ring, but the whole class knows when class is over, shoving their papers away into bags as soon as there's a minute left.

You leave English happily enough. It was a fun class, with plenty of movies and conversation that you were able to make friends in, unlike other lecture heavy classes where you had five minutes before class to talk during.

Sasha and Kevin both walk with you out of the lecture hall. “Have you started studying for the midterm,” Sasha asks, “I really don't want to write two in class essays. Multiple choice is where it's at.”

“I'd rather have an in class essay,” Kevin says, “and Professor Laux said it's just one. But he'd give us two prompts.”

You wrinkle your nose. “I love english I just hate the writing part. Or rather the long essays.”

“At least your not a computer science major,” Sasha counters, “physics is so much worse.”

“Not as bad as o chem.”

“O chem is not that bad,” Sasha counters.

You shrug, “art history major,” you grin smugly.

Kevin shakes his head, “just wait until you have to find a job.”

“Grad school. Both my parents love that shit. They'd help me pay for it.” They both had Ph.Ds.

“I wish my parents helped me pay for school,” Sasha complains again, “they are such hard asses about school but they want me to pay for everything, and live at home-can you imagine how many house parties I've missed to work at the movie theater.”

“Speaking of house parties,” Kevin pushes his glasses up his broad nose, “we're throwing this pre thanksgiving bash at my place. Beer. Snacks. Weed.”

“Shouldn't you be studying for midterms,” you ask, shaking your head. You also hadn't figured out what you were doing for the holiday. You had Jane and Noah now. It had to be special.

“Pfft. I will,” Kevin says. “You're only twenty once am I right?”

Sasha shakes her head. “Okay. But I'm stealing some weed.”

“You in?” They both look at you.

Noah's off Monday and Wednesday, when you get out too late to go pick up Jane. You can't leave her by herself, not that you would want to. You were looking forward to going to waste time at the mall and buy snacks at target: your usual Friday night.

You shake your head, “Can't. I've got Jane on the weekends. Babysitters are expensive.”

“Just tell your parents to look after your sister,” Kevin says petulantly.

You hadn't really explained things. It was complicated. Redfield had really messed up your life. Jane should be your age and going to house parties with you. But you'd have her alive in any shape or form so long as you got to see her. “Umm, actually,” you decide to explain a little, the practiced version, “her parents died a few months ago. They were-they were really close family friends and practically raised me so,” you trail off, thinking about how exactly to explain Noah. He was your best friend, a childhood friend, and. . .that was it.

“Oh shit, I'm sorry.”

“Yeah-”

“Well, if you're even able to figure it out,” Kevin says, “hit me up.”

You wave them goodbye and rush to your next class.

*

*

*

Noah's hair is still damp as he lays down on his side of the bed.

You were still going over your art history notes, wanting to go over the dates of the list of paintings you'd have to identify on tomorrow's quiz. The names were easy since styles even within art movements varied so much. It was a little harder in regulated art worlds: the buddhists of southeast asia didn't go outside their geometric ratios.

“You've been studying all day,” Noah says with a yawn. He no longer smelled like burnt oil.

“Yeah, I have a quiz.” You're sitting cross legged on your side of the bed. “It's on art identification.”

“That's what googles for,” he snarks back.

It was past midnight. Jane had been asleep for three hours.

“Smart ass.” You shut your notebook. The numbers had started swimming in your eyes a while ago. Nothing more was going to stick in your brain.

You turn off the light on your side.

“You're the smart one,” Noah laughs, “I'm just an asshole.”

“Oh,” you smile in the dark, highly aware of his body laying next to you, carefully keeping your leg from brushing against his skin. “You're self aware too!”

“Dick.”

“Takes one to know one.”

You lay in silence, listening to the sounds outside your windows, the cars passing by even at this hour, Noah breathing next to you. It was soothing, having people you loved with you. It wasn't lonely being home all the time.

Noah shifts onto his side: facing you.

You stare up at the ceiling, black from the curtains pulled right even as the window let the breeze in. It had been raining the past few days, but the cold days don't hold a candle to Westchester this time of year.

“Thank you.”

“For what,” you ask, smiling freely.

“What do you mean,” he pitches his voice higher, “for what? For everything.”

You giggle. “I haven't done much.”

Noah's tone is dead serious the next time he speaks. “You didn't have to help . . .with Jane. I don't know how I would've made it work without you, so yeah. Thank you. I didn't even ask-I wouldn't have asked you to give up college and partying-”

You have to stop him right there. “I didn't give shit up Noah.” He could be so dumb sometimes. If he had just told you Jane was Redfield, you would've helped him from day one to save her. But there was no point in bringing that up: just more salt in the wound. “And you didn't have to ask me: I wasn't just going to let you flounder alone. I wanted to-I wanted to be with you and Jane. That was never a question.” Heat flares up in the skin of your cheeks and nose as you smile, before you turn onto your side, looking over at Noah in the dark.

You can't really see him at all.

Thank fuck.

It's bad enough that you feel so flustered you might explode from the emotions swirling about in your chest. You don't know what to do about Noah, about your feelings for him.

Months ago, you would've just bitten the bullet and kissed him, but he'd also opened up about not feeling ready at all about relationships and you will not fuck things up for either of you. It had been easy with Connor when all the lights were green as he was clearly into you and responded right back.

It had been light and a way to not think about the terror of your day to day life for a few moments.

But it wasn't Connor you thought about so much your skin got all hot as you looked out the window during lecture.

You swallow thickly, squashing those feelings into some back corner of your mind.

“Thank you though, I don't know what I would have done without you.”

“Don't be dumb. It's getting rid of me that'll be hard.” You could admit now, “Now that I know what it's like to have people in the house to kill spiders, I'm never leaving,” you felt lonely in your childhood house all through high school.

“I don't think Jane would let you leave.” Noah laughs.

“True,” you sigh. “it's nice not to come home to an empty house.”

“Our childhoods were so messed up,” he replies softly.

“It's like the gift that never stops giving. But hey, who cares. I have you two and my parents monthly deposits-and FAFSA!” You laugh, because what else could you do, wallow in self deprecating angst like Noah? You weren't sure you could beat him at his own game. “As far as I'm concerned, you're my family now. . .both of you.”

“When did you become a walking talking greeting card?”

“Asshole.”

Noah laughs.

It's a sound you love. For so long, it had been so rare. It warms you up, blots out all the horrible shit you've gone through and makes everything okay.

You fall asleep smiling.

*

*

*

Sasha settles in your ikea bland table with her bag full of notebooks and textbooks. “I wish I had my own place.”

Next week was finals.

Next week was going to kick your ass.

Matthew looks up from his calculus solutions manual for the first time in an hour, “it really depends on the roommates, mine eat all my snacks.”

“Hide them in your room,” you suggest, opening your computer up to the study guide the TA had sent out last week. “With your underwear or something.”

Jane giggles as she watches spongebob on the TV. Fourth graders had it easy. The upcoming winter break meant Jane was practically doing arts and crafts all week.

You open up a notebook to a fresh page as you write down all the key items from the study guide, underlining key items. You wanted to knock the art essays out of the park. It wasn't as easy to bullshit those as it was to make up themes for an english paper.

Fuck, you were already pretty much done with a semester at college.

Jane had almost been back for over a year.

“Can I see your midterm,” Sasha asks, “I want to see what comments you got.”

You fish it out from your binder. “Go for it.”

Matthew looks up from his pages worth of calculus, “I hate math. I should've just done an anthropology major.”

“Sucks to be an overachiever,” you snark, annotating your notes with a pink gel pen. You had never cared to study much in high school, but a major you actually cared for made all the difference in the world. You wanted museums and van goghs and the asmr of cleaning paintings like in youtube videos.

“I didn't think double majoring would be like this,” Matthew sighs. “I haven't slept in three years.”

Sasha shakes her head, “just go for the one you like the most.”

“So I can be unemployed with tons of student debt?”

“Or get that grant money,” you wiggle your eyebrows. It was what your parents were up to.

“That would mean a PhD,” he complains, but doesn't look completely turned off by the idea. “And I could put off figuring my life out for another four years. . .”

Sasha laughs, flipping through flash cards with a bunch of arrows and equations written on them. Physics.

Intro to Biology was so much easier. You practically only had to remember high school biology and read through the study guide a few times. You could remember the difference between eukaryotic cells and prokaryotic cells.

Sasha suggests ordering Pizza hut as Jane starts asking for food and you feel like yeah, a study break sounds good.

“Four hours is the max people can concentrate for,” Matthew says, as he eats a third slice of pizza.

“So we're done for the day,” Sasha asks, getting up to stretch, and joining Jane on the couch. She'd been an angel, sort of, content to just watch tv all afternoon as you studied. Sure, she'd raised the volumes to movie theater standards every half an hour, but other than that-an angel.

“If you're good for the day.” You were nervous. You didn't want to be a C student anymore. You wanted to try. Surely you had inherited some of your parents brain cells.

“I am,” Sasha admits. “I've been studying every day for four hours. My brain has melted.”

“Honestly,” Matthew says, “I just started studying. The semester seemed so long.”

“Same though bro,” You grin. “All the tests and quizzes went right out of my mind as soon as I was done.”

Sasha shakes her head. “Well, I'm taking a slice for the road. See you around.” She leaves.

Jane joins you and Matthew at the table, licking the pizza grease off her fingers. “I like Noah's pizza better.”

You wince. A cook you were not. “Well, he's working.”

“I know.”

“Noah?” Matthew says, clearly a question.

“My brother,” Jane says flippantly. “They sleep together.”

You're face burns; you want the earth to swallow you whole right then and there. “We live together,” you explain to Matthew who looks more confused. “Jane go watch TV.”

She sends an annoyed look at you, before running off.

“Noah's her brother. They're family friends-” you explain lamely.

“You don't have to explain anything to me,” Matthew says sweetly. “It's your business.”

“Yeah,” you push your hair behind your ears, feeling out of whack. Matthew was cute, but it wasn't like you wanted to jump his bones. He made sociology bearable. “Can you look over my paper? I'm still not sure I got the sources incorporated right-”

“Yeah. Sure. I didn't know sociology 101 would include writing research papers.”

“Everything was going good until I remembered we had that paper due,” Matthew agrees.

You study for another hour, mostly giving each other feedback on your research paper. “It would've helped if he'd given us examples,” you mutter.

“Right.”

Jane tugs on your arm. “Come play with me,” ignoring your classmate entirely.

“Yeah. Sure,” you smile tiredly. You were at your study limit. “Want to call it a night,” you ask Matthew who nods and grabs his things.

Jane scrutinizes him the entire time. She puts her hands on top of the empty pizza box.

“I don't like him,” she pouts, “He's boring. Who studies?”

“Boring college students,” you laugh. “He's fine. We have sociology together. We're also taking english literature pre 1800s together next semester. It was that or latin literature which sounds really pretentious.”

Jane giggles. “Let's play uno!”

“Okay, but just one game. You still have to take a shower before bed.”

“I don't want to take a shower,” Jane protests, “I want to be a horrible reeking troll! Rawr!” She chases you around the living room.

You burst out laughing, letting her tackle you to the floor. It was easy to forget how stressed out you were about finals when you had Jane.

*

*

*

You take deep breaths as you scramble to find your sneakers. It got cold in lecture halls.

Noah makes coffee, “you're going to do fine.”

“I'm going to fail and flunk out of university and my parents are going to hate me forever and i'll never get a job and take Jane to disney world,” you groan, slumping at the counter with a hand on your forehead. You should've studied all night. Why had you bothered going to sleep?

Noah pours you a tumbler full of coffee, with the hazelnut creamer that basically turned the coffee into a hot chocolate, “you've been studying all week. You might not be Lucas levels of 110% on a rest but you're going to do great. I know it,” he says with a genuine smile.

You blush. “I hope all the studying has worked. I've never tried this hard in school.”

“Yeah,” Noah nods with a soft smile. “High school sucked.”

“It did.” You take a sip of your coffee, hoping to steady your nerves.

He looks good in the morning light, before it's too hot to exist. Winter in florida meant temperatures in the low 70s, laughably temperate. Noah's wearing the same boxers he'd gone to sleep in, with a soft worn in grey t-shirt, and a serious case of bed head as his hair curls around his ears in the most adorable mop top.

If you didn't have finals to head to, this would be the perfect morning.

“You're going to do amazing sweetie,” Noah chuckles in the dickish way of his.

You snort, shaking your head. “Fuck yeah I will.”

“That's the spirit.”

You shove your feet into your beat up vans, grab your backpack. “See you later,” you smile at Noah.

“Yeah, good luck,” he says, putting his mug of coffee down on the counter and leaning down. One second he's smiling down at you, and in the next one he's pressing his lips against yours.

Holy fuck.

Your eyes widen.

Was this really happening, or were you just that tired.

“Shit,” Noah stammers, pulling away quickly. “I-”

You raise a brow, “What-”

“It was an accident. Sorry.” Noah steps back, running a hand through his hair, pink up to the tips of his ears.

You feel a bit like a deflated balloon. “What even was that?” Because what it seemed like was like he'd kissed you but-how do you accidentally kiss someone. No-this was way too much for you to dea with at the moment.

“I just-nothing. Just forget it,” Noah says. “I'm going back to sleep.”

“See you later,” you try, feeling all messed up. Had he wanted to kiss you? Was this you messing up for the both of you?

You wish you could call Lily right now, but you had a final to get to.

*

*

*

It's Christmas day, technically.

Jane's been asleep for hours and Noah's taking a bite out of the cookies laid out for Santa as you watch it's a wonderful life trying to puzzle out how this was a Christmas classic. It was boring.

Things had been so awkward with Noah as of late, as you both danced around the kiss, that you had let Jane talk you into a sleepover in her room almost every night. There was no way you could lay there next to Noah and not think yourself to death. Absolutely no way.

You had wrapped up her gifts in baby yoda christmas themed wrapping paper: an assortment of more clothes because Jane really didn't have much considering she had basically popped into life a year ago, random books you remembered liking in elementary and middle school, and toys that you had definitely splurged on including a two hundred dollar set of legos that you looked forward to building with her. It had been hard to keep it secret from her when you all spent the majority of your time together. Stacey had sent a big care package for all of you. Lily had sent gifts through the post office. Lucas’ contribution was a few amazon packages.

All your friends had sent something.

It was touching, considering the distance. You couldn't wait to see them again-Ava wanted to visit in the summer.

You flip the channel, deciding Full House reruns were better.

“Not Full House,” Noah groans, turning the kitchen light off.

“Let me guess. You're a Die Hard fan?”

“Best christmas movie,” he grins.

You shake your head. He could be such a guy. And just like that, the tension between you two dissipates. “No way. The Grinch is the best. The 2001 one anyway.”

You click the side table lamp off.

Noah sits down next to you as you flick through the channels, trying to find something to watch. “Bob's burgers?”

“Sounds good.”

It's dark. The volume’s on low. You're all curled up in bed, and Noah's not being weird-it helps that you're trying to be chill about it.

“How did your finals go?”

“Well I didn't flunk out,” you shrug. “I got a C in sociology but a B in everything else.” It was fine. It's not like you were a sociology major.

“I told you you'd do good.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, laying down entirely, ignoring the tv. “I just figured all the studying would...I don't know, mean I'd get straight As?”

“It's college-isn't it supposed to be like super hard or whatever,” Noah says with a shrug.

“I guess.” You just wished you were that kind of student. Even seeing how hard the effort was on Lucas’ mental health, maybe your parents might visit if you did get straight As. It was dumb. “I just figured my parents might pay attention if I did get all As.”

“Fuck your parents,” he says easily.

You snort. “Shut up. They pay like half the rent.”

“The least they could do.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Did you ever want to go to college? You know like when we had to write colleges letters in fifth grade, or was it sixth?”

“Naw. School was never my thing,” Noah says in the quiet of the night.

You smile softly, tilting your head so you're looking at him, the moonlight illuminating the angles of his jaw as it poured in through the windows. “Then it was always culinary school for you?”

He shrugs. “Yeah-I mean,” he closes his eyes, thinking silently. “I'm a little too dumb for school. I could never get the whole trig thing or what Shakespeare was saying let alone the subtext.”

You sit up. “Shut up,” you state, slapping his bicep lightly. “Don't say that shit.”

“It's true.”

You shift, closer to his side of the bed, closer to him still lying there staring up at the ceiling, not meeting your searching gaze. “You're not dumb. Noah-you are not dumb. You're so fucking smart-who remembered to buy toilet paper and figured out how to rent an apartment?”

“You can google that shit,” he says, covering his face with his hand, embarrassed.

“And cooking takes skill. Maybe it's not mensa harvard type smarts, but it's not nothing!” You just wanted him to see himself the way you did. You're sitting up on your knees now, as his expressive wide eyes meet yours, a dark romantic brown you could drown in, staring down at him. “Say it! Say you're smart and clever and amazing!”

“I'm not saying that,” he laughs off.

“Say, I'm fucking smart and I can do anything,” you repeat, nudging his chest.

Noah smiles and it does all sorts of things to you, makes your pulse race as heat winds its way all hot under your skin, all hot and bothered and feeling giddy like a dumbass and you never meet someone who felt like home the way it is with Noah. “I'm fucking smart,” he says quietly, rolling his eyes, “and I can do anything.”

“We're going to have to work on that,” you laugh, belatedly realizing you're almost on top of him. Well, you are on top of him, you're knees are by his waist, but you're leaning over him and fuck you want him. The way he's laying there under you, looking like the sun shines out of your ass, it's thrilling.

“We will,” Noah says, wiggling his brows in a way that has you laughing into his chest.

Then you're looking up at him, unable to catch your breath, because you can't stop laughing and it's not like you're particularly comedic but-fuck it, you lean up and kiss him. It's what you've been itching to do since the party at-fuck, you don't even remember, but you remember finding him there and realizing he's what you had been missing, the reason you didn't feel like being there until you sat by the pool with him.

He's Noah and you're you and there's not a version of you that doesn't love him to bits; there's not a version of you that doesn't go with him to face the monster and rescue Dan and would give your life for him and Jane. Always. Because he's Noah-

You lean down and kiss him, trying to communicate the depth of this feeling.

It wasn't some crush.

Or some drunken affair at a house party.

You kiss his lips with a dizzying fever that burns hot under your skin as desire builds in the pit of your stomach: a bundle of nerves sparking to life. And he kisses you back, his hand cupping your cheek. His thumb rubbing circles into your skin.

You tremble under his gentle touch, afraid that this too would disappear in your hands. You were so used to losing: to getting nothing.

Noah stares up wide eyed at you when you pull away.

You bite your bottom lip.

“I-,” he stutters.

“I've really been wanting to do that for a long time,” you confess.

“Me too.”

You swallow thickly at his confession. “Then it wasn't...it wasn't an accident,” you ask carefully.

Noah shakes his head once. “No. That-I just, I didn't want to mess up something good just because I wanted something more.” He looks so heartbroken in that second-

“Noah,” you sigh gently. “I was surprised and thinking about school but I've-I would've kissed you then if my head hadn't been so far up my own ass.”

He snorts, the line of his shoulders relaxing under your hands. “After what happened- I was lucky that you even wanted to talk to me at all. I didn't think you'd want anything to do with me and then I thought it was just for Jane,” Noah admits painfully.

“I've always loved you.” You tell him. “And I'm going to keep telling you until it gets through that thick skull of yours.”

Noah chuckles.

“So are we on the same page?”

He rakishly raises a brow with a shit eating grin on his lips, “I don't know, are you gonna kiss me again?”

You vow to wipe that look off his face as you do more than press your lips hungrily against his, your hands against his chest as you shift once more, situating yourself and getting comfortable straddling his waist with your legs. You press hard kisses to his mouth as Noah kisses you back with the same fervor; you nibble on his bottom lip, bringing it between your teeth.

It's an exercise in breathlessness, a mexican stand-off in which both sides are ready and happy to pull the trigger because of the rush of blood to your head as you taste him on your lips. It's intoxicating the way in which he kisses your mouth and you forget the need to breathe.

But you, smiling against the skin of his jaw as you catch your breath. His chest rises and falls under your hands as he laughs giddily, feeling as crazy as you do.

It's not that epic romeo and juliet love that burns and destroys, but the fullness in your heart as you lay there with him.

You plant kisses down his jaw, savoring the hitches in his breath as you nip on the skin at the crook of his neck. “Is this okay,” you ask wickedly.

“Fuck,” Noah utters, voice breaking as he sucks in air. “Yeah-”

He cups your cheek with his hand and leads you up, brings you back where he can kiss you again. Noah kisses you-he lets himself kiss you. His tongue experimentally whetting against your all too willing lips before your mouth opens up to him and it's clear in the clumsy way he's eager to explore your mouth--the boy has no idea what he's doing.

It's fine.

You smile against his mouth, taking charge and running your tongue against his. Reaching for his free hand and guiding it, inviting him to explore the shape of your body in an oversized t-shirt and tiny booty shorts that you wouldn't even take the trash out in.

Noah does, clasping your hips with his hand as you binch up the fabric of his shirt in your hands as you lose yourself in kissing him, in drinking him in like a comfort series you could endlessly rewatch.

You're both breathless, as you lay your head down on his chest, content.

“That was,” Noah says all out of sorts, “wow.”

“Guess you're going to be the next great american writer,” you tease.

He rolls his eyes, running his hand up your side.

“Hey,” you continue, relaxing into his touch, “Hemingway was a man of few words.”

“Was he the alcoholic one?”

“I think a lot of writers were,” you admit. “I tried to read his whale book but it was boring as fuck.”

“Moby Dick,” Noah says thoughtfully, “did Hemingway write Moby Dick?”

“Who cares,” you reply, pressing a kiss against the edge of his lips, fine with spending the wee hours of the morning making out with Noah.

“Well now I want to know.”

“Really,” you tease, bringing your hand up, running your fingers through his soft hair.

His eyes close. Noah leans into your touch. “I'll google it later.”

You giggle.

Then he’s kissing you again and you could care less about books and long dead writers. Noah captures your lips with his and you intertwine your fingers in his hair, a hand on his chest, wondering what it would feel like to have his bare skin against yours and caught between the enormity of your want and letting things happen naturally. It was Noah. You didn’t want to rush him.

You were still amazed he’d kissed you back,that he wanted you the same way you wanted him. The love had never been the point of contention between you two. You loved him at nine and you loved him at nineteen.

Noah losses some of his hesitation, his hands sliding down your side until they reach the swell of your hips straddling his waist. Then his hand slips under the fabric of your shirt and you moan into his mouth at the sensation of his fingers splayed against to taunt muscles of your abdomen.

It’s just flaring want consuming you whole.

“Is that,” Noah manages between bated breaths, “okay?”

You kind of want to shake his shoulders and say shut up and keep going, because you might just combust in the next few minutes if he keeps going like this, this clumsy tenderness mixed with the assault of his body discovering yours. “Yeah,” you stammer out, more feeling than young woman. “Great actually.”

Noah chuckles, trailing kisses down your neck as you lean back a little, before pulling away. . .before pulling your shirt over your head.

He sucks in a breath at the sight of your naked torso.

You can’t help the headyness in your chest at his reaction, at the way you were affecting him. “Like what you see,” you grin, all brash confidence that threatened to topple over like a house of cards at every turn, at the shift of his body under yours.

For once, Noah doesn’t have some smartass comment, just reaches his hands to your cheeks and pulls you down flush against him.

Fuck.

You kiss him feverishly, your hands finding the hem of his shirt as running yours fingers against the sliver of skin.

Noah moans into your mouth and you swear you can’t even function at the sound. The entire world is boiled down to you and him, him and you, and building pressure in your belly that threatens to explode.

“The shirt-,” you stutter out, half out of your mind.

“Yeah,” he obliges, sitting up and tugging it off.

And then you’re melting against him, the warmth of his skin against yours. Your breasts flush against his bare chest. Your toes curl up as you sigh, hands clutching at his neck, at his cheek, at the ends of his hair.

You kiss his jaw, you suck on the skin of his jaw and none of it is enough. Fuck, you want him so bad. You’re so fucking horny. It’s not like you’d been with a lot of people. But it had been over a year since your last sexual encounter.

And that might explain part of it-

Noah cups one of your breast with the palm of his hand, and fuck-

Your mind blanks as you moan his name. “Noah,” you whimper.

He kisses your collarbone, smiling against your skin.

“Do you want to-,” he asks, sounding more self assured by the word.

“Yes, yes,” you eagerly answer, kissing him hungrily. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Noah laughs breathlessly.

Then he’s whimpering as you run your fingers under the waistband of his boxers.

His hand closes around your wrist before you can get further, “condom?”

“Fuck,” you swear. This was so unsexy of you both. But it wasn’t like you had a reason to buy condoms along with pads and fruit snacks. “I think I have one,” you vaguely remember there being one in your wallet.

“I really hope you do.”

“Jerk.”

With great reluctance, you crawl off him to go look for your purse. You had to stop throwing it wherever and hang it up. It would've made it easier to find right now.

You don’t look back at Noah, even though you can feel his heavy gaze on you. The airs filled with static electricity as you rifle around and find the slim black bag.

It’s another few minutes of fishing through its contents before you find the thin small envelope that you were pretty sure you’d gotten in health or at planned parenthood at some point. Ava had definitely been there.

When you turn around, Noah’s sat up in bed, in your bed, in the bed you two share, have shared for months. It’s too dark to make out the expression on his features from this distance, but it’s under his dark eyes that you make your way back to him.

You push your shorts and underwear down in one go, discarding them by the side of the bed, taking care not to lose the condom (you were going on another target run asap) before you’re once again straddling his waist, feeling Noah already hard under your thigh.

“I’ve,” he starts as you sit up on your knees, feeling incredibly vulnerable. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Oh.” You’re off kilter. Does he not want to? It’s fine. You’re just surprised. It’s Noah. He’s tall and funny even if you want to strangle him half the time --he can cook-- and he’s so fucking hot when he’s not being adorkable. You’re surprised. “We don’t. . .have to.”

He sits up under you. “No. It’s,” Noah blushes, “I want to, it’s just-you should know?”

“Oh. Okay,” you lean in, kissing him with a tenderness he deserves in spades, “if you’re sure.”

Noah grasps your hips in his hands, pulling you in, “I’m sure.”

He kisses you.

You push him down onto the bed by his shoulders. His eyes are full of trust as he looks up at you, full of love like the moon on a clear night. You carefully open the condom up.

Noah shimmies his boxers off.

And because you’re you, you reach down and stroke his cock with your hand.

He shuts his eyes, moaning your name as he throws his head back into the bed, his back arching.

You wait a moment for him to still underneath you, before you roll the condom onto his cock, letting your desire carry your through as you fumble a bit. Again, you didn’t exactly have much experience on Noah. You just had some experience.

You lean down flush against him, kissing his lips, as you guide his cock to the apex of your thighs and part your legs, moaning into his mouth as he enters your soaked entrance. Noah stretches you out, leaving you a trembling mess, faring no better than he currently was under you, as his hips thrust against you and you-fuck!

It’s a tangle of limbs as you wrap your arms around him, lacing your fingers behind his neck, wanting more, and more as your hips more erratically against his.

Noah is all kisses and moans and his fingers bruising the skin of your hips as he presses you closer against him.

You don’t really know or care about anything but the feel of his cock inside you, as he thrusts with fervor, and clutches you near. You just want and want and stars dance across your eyelids as your skin catches fire, the heat in your belly finally boiling over as you fuck him, grinding your hips against his.

You splutter, reaching your climax while topping the boy you’ve been in love with for what might as well be your whole life. It’s just your strained voice, repeating his name, “Noah,” like it’s an answer to the whole meaning of life bullshit.

Good.

Bad.

It always comes back to him.

Noah.

He comes against you a second later, your name a sharp breath on his lips, before he goes as boneless as you feel. You’re on cloud fucking nine.

It’s a feeling no amount of weed can come close to.

Exhausted, you get off of him, slumping into a puddle on the bed. Fucking Florida. You were too hot and sweaty to curl under the blankets now.

“I fucking love you.”

“Oh,” you snipe back, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside, “now that I’ve fucked you you tell me.”

“Shut up,” Noah manages. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, yeah. Go toss the condom.”

He sits up slowly, “oh this episode’s my favorite.”

You’d completely forgotten about Bob’s Burgers reruns playing on the TV.

*

*

*

It’s New Year’s Eve and the three of you are eating ice cream on the beach. Only in Florida.

“And why can’t I go in the water?”

“Because you don’t have your bathing suit,” Noah tells Jane for the hundredth time.

“I promise I’ll just stick my feet in.”

“I’ve heard that one before,” you shake your head.

She frowns. “I promise!”

What the heck. It’s not like you were going anywhere else after this. “Okay. But you have to finish your ice cream first.”

“Wow,” Noah says, throwing his arm around your shoulder and leaning his weight against you, making you stumble in the sand. “What a pushover.”

“Me!” You reply, offended. “You let her stay home for no reason.”

The twins exchange glances. “She had chickenpox,” Noah shrugs shamelessly.

“And I’m the Queen of England.”

“Korean skincare does miracles.”

You roll your eyes at him, “shut up.”

Jane giggles easily as she decides this patch of sand is the one, and sits down, licking her rocky road ice cream happily.

“Jane,” you ask gently.

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember why you’re ten and we’re not?” It had been bugging you, ever since the parent teacher conference. There had been no more nightmares since September, but it bothered you, that she might remember anything. That Jane might not want to tell you. You couldn’t help her if she didn’t tell you.

She shrugs. “Not really,” with a child’s ability to shrug things off.

Noah asks the question you’ve been dreading. “Do you remember Redfield?”

Jane looks at you both, frowning. “Who?”

Your shoulders sag with relief. You hide it with a bite of your ice cream cone. Jane had a habit of picking up on things.

“No one important,” Noah brushes off, running a hand through his hair.

“You guys are being weird,” Jane complains. “Is this about you two being gross together? I saw you holding hands.” She narrows her eyes at you accusingly. “Don’t you remember boys have cooties.” She shakes her head. “Grown ups.”

“Jane,” Noah squeaks.

You laugh, covering your mouth with the back of your hand. “Yeah. We thought you should know.” It was better to leave the whole Redfield business behind. She didn’t need that shit weighing her down. “I don’t know. I like your brother a lot for some reason. Ava says it’s trauma induced codependency but she’s Ava so. . .”

Jane frowns again, letting the ice cream drip onto the sand as she thinks. “Does that mean I’m getting a sister?”

It’s your turn to be flabbergasted, as your skin reddens into a ripe tomato. “What!”

“It’s only fair,” she explains. “If you get my brother then I should get a new sister.”

“How about a stuffed animal,” you barter.

“You let me play five Nights at Freddies?”

“No way Jane,” Noah says, shaking his head. “It’ll give you nightmares.”

“What about minecraft,” you try. “Just on Fridays though.”

“Okay. i don’t want my ice cream anymore. I want to go play in the water.”

You nod, kicking your shoes off. “Okay yeah. Let’s go throw it away. I’m sick of mine too.”

You toss the ice cream and race Jane into the waves.

[ofmythsandmadness]

movie night (request).

REQUEST;  May I request a fic with Diego, mutual pining and yearning and all that good shit. Just kinda an all around fluffy fic, and it ends with them confessing to each other or something like that? Love you!💕 -- anon PAIRING; Diego Hargreeves x gender neutral reader. (2nd pov) WARNING; not much. a couple curse words, some bad writing (forgive me, it’s late).

NOTES - This is short (for me) but sweet & really all dialogue. But it’s okay!  I finally got a request done in only a few days, which is nice for once. I know I’ve got two other things to put out, they’ll come later (aka updates for inaf and that trilogy i had). but anyways, hope you like and thank you for requesting anon! Also, not edited and a bit bleh at the end (whoops). xx

“KLAUS, SIT YOUR ASS DOWN RIGHT NOW!”

“NO!”

“This is MY apartment!”

“And this is MY body, so--!”

You roll your eyes and slump back down to the couch. Your eyes leave his indignant glare and fall back to the two movies on your lap. “For the last fuckin’ time, you can’t just declare that as your argument! It’s my TV, and I don’t wanna watch Zoolander!”

“Well, I don’t want to watch that!”

“That?” Your hands scrabble at the DVD case before lifting it to his face. “That is an American treasure, dumbass! This is like, the greatest comedy ever made!”

“I didn’t laugh once!”

“You haven’t seen it!”

“SO?!”

“GUYS!”

Before you could retort or Klaus could cut you off (again), a third voice joined the fight. Diego.

Without even thinking about it, you smiled at him, forgetting for just one second about your fight.

Just for a second.

“Diego, thank goodness you’re back, I can’t handle this alone!”

“I could hear you two screaming from down the hall,” he huffed, heading in with a bowl and a frown. “Klaus, you’re gonna get Y/N another noise complaint.”

Klaus pouted. “She started it!”

“How the hell is asking what movie you wanna watch starting a fight?”

He just stuck his tongue out at you.

“You guys always fight over this,” Diego sighed. He sank into the couch and in response, you shuffled back, giving him just enough room to get comfortable before sinking back. “I’m starting to think movie night was a bad idea.”

“No!”

“No-o,” you groaned. Without thinking, your forehead fell to his shoulder, emphasising a facepalm without having to lift your own hands (which were still clinging tightly to your DVD). “This is a good idea, your brother just can’t compromise.”

“Compromise? You just want to watch -- Diego, she’s impossible!”

The man just sighed, and you felt the vibrations of the heavy sound leave his shoulder to your forehead. “Shut it, both of you. I’m picking. We’re watching this one.”

You glanced up to see him gesturing at your choice. Immediately, your eyes lit up and you turned to his brother with a resounding ‘HA!’.

“That’s not fair!”

“How’s it not fair?” chorused both you and Diego at the same time. 

“You always go with her pick!”

Your smile died a little, replaced with new anger. “That’s not true, you’re just a sore loser! And your brother has taste!”

But Klaus didn’t even care for the half-baked insult; he was ploughing right along with his first point, almost excitedly too. “You always do! Every time we fight and you pretend to ‘break up the fight’, but you’re not sly, dear brother!”

Diego frowned beside you. “That’s not true. I picked yours last week.”

“No, no you did not! We watched Inception even though you said before that one chick freaks you out too much!”

“Well -” you pause, mulling over his words just the littlest bit; maybe he did have some fragments of a point. “Well, that’s not totally valid. I mean, Ariadne’s not in the movie that much, he doesn’t have to look at Vanya’s doppelganger the whole time.”

Diego nodded. “‘Sides, it was better than whatever the fuck you chose.”

“Excuses, excuses,” Klaus cooed, still on top of your coffee table and still way too energized to be standing on it. You really should stop letting him stand on such delicate things - but perhaps that argument could wait until after he was done making such weird points. “It’s always her - I mean, Diego, don’t you think you’re laying it on a bit thick?”

“What?!”

“Huh?!”

Klaus scoffed. “Come on - you two have been making goo-goo eyes and sweet little gestures for as long as I’ve known you two! Movie nights are just the next thing you’ve taken away from me, and manipulated to be about your sick mutual pining scheme!”

Your mouth dropped open in a move to immediately dispute, only to simply hang, unsure what there was to say to that. He was wrong, of course - for the sure fact that you knew Diego did not like you at all. Wouldn’t you know, already if he did? Sure, maybe you were a little obvious with your feelings sometimes, but only occasionally, and they were never received as much.

This was just a grand scheme to get his movie picked, and you told him that, proudly calling him out on what you thought was just a big game.

But Klaus did not react as you thought he would. Instead, he leapt down from his post and sank down to sit on the coffee table, teetering into a cross-legged position. His long fingers jabbed at the both of you. “You two are so in your heads, you’ve gone blind to the other person. I mean, Y/N, you’re literally curled around Diego right now, does that not register in your brain?”

Okay, so that was correct. You were close to him, maybe not as close as he said but your head did rest on his sleeve, and your hands --

-- awkwardly, you pulled away, crossing your arms across yourself. “Not a good point; I’m just comfortable with him. As I am with you.”

“Ah, but we don’t cuddle like two babes in a pea pod, do we?”

“Klaus, you’re being-”

“-foolish? Am I? Diego, brother of mine, you look at Y/N like she’s aligned the stars and moon and given them to you as a gift! And you look at me like I’m dirt on the side of -”

“-Klaus,” you hissed, with hot cheeks and a new feeling bubbling at your throat (embarrassment, maybe? fear?) that you did not want to spill. “If I pick your movie, will you stop this nonsense?”

The young man huffed, raising his knees up and flapping them down again. “Don’t be so scared of acceptance, dear Y/N! I mean, think of the potential, two people with questionable taste finally joining and becoming one?”

“Klaus!”

You rose from the couch suddenly, jerky motions and wide eyes in an attempt to hide your overwhelming emotional buildup. You didn’t look at Diego. “Sit, Klaus, please, and let me put on this damn movie so we can be free of this? Stop making our lives a rom-com!”

“Am I wrong?!”

“Yes!” You responded, indignant and loud. Still you refused to look Diego’s way. “Come on now. If Diego thought of me as attractive, I’m sure we would’a worked it out in the many years of our friendship. Right? Let’s just watch this film.”

Klaus mumbled something under his breath, but it was too quiet for you to catch. He slumped down in your place and grinned, “Diego, will you cuddle me like-”

“-I will gut you like a fish, asshole-”

“-movie time, quiet up!”

You sank down into your chair, cold and missing Diego’s presence, and avoided his searching eyes. Whatever was going on with him, it wasn’t something you were sure you could emotionally deal with; Klaus pretending like your feelings could be requited would be enough pain for the night. You’d gladly watch his pick if it meant quiet.

“HEY.”

You didn’t look up from the dishes; you didn’t have to, to recognise the voice. “Hey. Klaus asleep still?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“You, uh…” Diego’s voice followed behind you, until you were pretty certain he was leaning on the counter almost directly from you. “All the stuff he said…”

You forced a chuckle, even though your heart had almost immediately sunk. And here you thought you’d be free of more tragedy that night. “Ha, yeah. So weird.”

“Weird?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, losing momentum with every second. Did you have to do this? You were tired and lonely and sad, and you didn’t want to get second helpings of unrequited feelings that night. But still, you played along. “Such a joke. You n’me? I know you don’t feel that way, don’t worry.”

“What if--” he stopped, short.

You waited a moment to see if he’d continue, only to be met with silence. You turned to stare at him. He leant back on his arms with his head down, so you couldn’t see whatever look he wore on his face. 

“What if…?”

“What if…” he paused again, sighing and rubbing a hand down his face. “I...if...I dunno. It wasn’t all a joke.”

Okay, you were starting to freak out a little, If this was some sort of joke… “Diego, I really don’t ha-”

“-I like you, Y/N.”

And just like that, your heart had stopped.

Well, not really. Though it did feel like it did; one moment you thought he was there to confront you about your feelings, and the next you could only start at him like a deer caught in the headlights, unsure whether or not to run or to just stand and wait for the impact.

“W-huh?”

“I-idiot’s talking about me,” he groaned, and clearly he was forcing the words out, practically spitting them to avoid stuttering. “I-I just didn’t say it cause-”

“-don’t say that.”

Diego stopped. “What?”

“I mean,” you shrugged, taking a step away from the dishes. Your soapy hands moved out to just almost touch him. “He’s way too adamant on his choice in movies. And some might say he has no choice...but he’s definitely not an idiot.”

Slowly, Diego, rolled away from the counter and lifted his head to look at you. You could see the same look in his eyes you were sure reflected in yours; confusion, fear, a little bit of that bubbling excitement that came with passion--

“He figured out we were both into each other ‘fore either of us had a clue.” You stepped nearer; the two of you were nearly touching. You forced your head up, staring him down with a smile. “To be completely honest, this feels like a fever dream. Not sure this is even happening.”

“Oh,” he whispered, and it came out more like a sigh than a word. His hands met your waist, trembling but pressing. “Y-”

-you cut him off. Quickly, before you could lose your will (or grip on reality, whatever came first) you lifted up on your toes and to his lips, pressing a firm kiss to his own. It was brief but sure, only lasting a second before pulling away.

“I like you too, dummy.”

His eyes reopened and stared down at you, wide and happy. “Yeah?”

“I don’t know how you didn’t notice,” you laughed, itching to kiss him again. Why had you pulled away so quickly? His taste didn’t even remain on your own lips, no matter how you licked at them. “I feel like I was obvious as hell.”

Diego smiled a little, soft and pretty. “I g-guess I was just b-b-busy lookin’ at you like you hung the moon, or - or whatever Klaus said.”

“IT WAS ALIGNED THE STARS AND MOON, YOU LOVESICK FOOL!”

“GO BACK TO SLEEP, KLAUS!”

“...DID YOU GUYS KISS YET?”

“KLAUS!”

[whatareyousearchingfordean]

Happiness Begins

Part 25

Chapter Summary: The reader finds herself dragged to a charity event by her big brother. What will she do when she finds out what he really has planned for her?

Word Count: 4.6K+

Warnings: Language, angst

Author’s Note: Well, here it is. The final part. I am honestly amazed I even made it here. This story turned into a true monster from its original inception. I know I would have never made it here without all of your guys’ love and support. Your feedback means the world, so keep it up. You never know whose day you might make. I hope this is all you dreamed it would be if not, don’t blame me, I just typed this shit out ha. xo Alex

Catch up with the series masterlist and check out Alexandra’s Library for more works by yours truly!

Jared had insisted that Y/n ride with him and Gen to the fundraiser he had begged that she go to in the first place. He knew her too well, after all. If Y/n didn’t want to go somewhere, she was exceptionally good at getting out of it. But their sharing of a ride to the event left her without a number of excuses. So she bit the bullet and just accepted her fate. After all it was for a good cause, and she was authorized to make a donation on behalf of Et Cetera. 

Y/n followed behind her brother and his wife into the event, the two of them practically skipping, their fingers entwined between them. The sight made her both smile and her stomach turn. 

Out Youth Austin had organized this little shindig at the country club that Jared frequented in town. It was the perfect sunny afternoon for a party. Y/n laughed to herself as she took in the image in front of her. It reminded her too much of the final scene from Step Brothers, well, minus the ocean in the background and the giant ice sculpture of a helicopter. 

The place was bustling, there was a live band playing some song she didn’t recognize, but they had a certain aura about them that was infectious. The charity had also decided on a fully catered Texas style barbeque, complete with lots of alcohol. Y/n mumbled a silent ‘thank you’ to whatever was listening as she spotted the bar. Silently she slipped away from her brother and towards the bar, looking for something cold and fruity to keep her sated. 

Jared noticed her absence almost instantly, taking the opportunity of her departure to initiate his plan. Well technically, her spotting the bar was step one of his plan, which she had fallen for hook line and sinker. Genevieve stood begrudgingly by his side, also in on said plan, no matter how much she truly hated it. The things we do for love...

“She’s going to kill you when she finds out, you know that?” Gen whispered to her husband as he was bent over the sign-in table. 

“I can handle myself. Besides, I’m sure she’ll thank me later.” 

“You have a lot of confidence in that. I hope you are right.” Gen mumbled. Jared made a face at his wife as if to say ‘trust me’. He knew full well how badly this could go, but he also understood how good it could all work out. Things were still tense between himself and his baby sister and at this point he could lose her either way. He at least had to try this. 

Once they had signed themselves and Y/n in, they went to find her with their seating assignment. She was reluctant to go too far from the bar, earning a sour look from Jared. Like a scolded child, she followed him to their table, a small frown on her face. 

Once she knew where she was to eat dinner, she left them again to network. Jared and Gen were quick though to follow her into the crowd. They stuck to her like glue the whole time, unwilling to let her out their sight. After all, she didn’t want to be here in the first place, making her a flight risk in Jared’s eyes. And he couldn’t exactly lose her if he wanted this to work. He also was there to steer her in the right direction. After all he couldn’t risk her seeing something she shouldn’t and ruining everything. 

Y/n, on the other hand, couldn’t understand her family’s odd behavior. Everytime she turned around, there were Jared and Gen. It didn’t matter where she went or who she was talking to, they were always a step behind her, making the young woman uneasy. Y/n chose to brush off their peculiar actions, chalking it up to Jared’s lack of trust in her. 

The dinner was served about an hour after the three of them had arrived at the venue. The food that was served was like nothing she had ever tasted before. It gave a true definition to southern style cooking. Y/n made a mental note to get the caterer’s information from whomever she could pry it from. 

Y/n quirked her head up as the music died down from the stage and the audience was applauding. A spritely woman, who Y/n deemed to only be a few years older than herself, bounced onto the stage, taking the mic from the lead singer, “Desert is about to be served, we hope you all enjoy it as it was made right here in Austin. We have about thirty minutes until the auction starts, so get your wallets out and ready.” The organizer rushed off the stage just as quick as she came to a hoopa from the crowd. Y/n turned back to her brother, her brow scrunched together on her forehead. 

“You didn’t say there would be an auction.” She noted, confusion written on her features. Gen suddenly became very interested in the ice cream now being placed in front of her as Y/n spoke. Y/n picked up on the way the woman averted her eyes, not daring to look up at her sister in law. 

“I didn’t? I could have sworn I did...” Jared’s voice was high as he played her comment off. 

Y/n hummed, annoyance now bubbling up in her chest. “No, you didn’t.” Her tone was firm with her resolution. “Jared, what are they auctioning off?” She had to ask the question even though, based on her family's sudden change in demeanor, she was afraid she didn’t truly want to know the answer. 

“Oh, you know, just the usual.” 

“Jared.” Y/n set her lips in a tight line as she glared at her brother. He was up to something, and she knew it was going to piss her off. 

“They are auctioning off dates with local eligible bachelorettes.” He shrugged as if it was no big deal. A huff of air left her lips as the realization dawned on her. Y/n closed her eyes.

“Please tell me you didn’t…” 

“I did.”

“Jared! You signed me up to be auctioned off like some cattle to a strange old rich guy? I can’t believe you!” Y/n threw her napkin on the table and moved to leave. Jared grabbed her arm, an action that only sent more fire through her veins. She tugged her arm from his grasp. “Don’t.” 

“Y/n.” Jared’s voice was soft as he attempted to not draw more attention to themselves than had already been drawn. “It’s for a good cause. Please? Who knows, maybe this could be exactly what you need.” 

Y/n stared at him, incredulous. His words didn’t make any sense to her. Jared said ‘this could be exactly what she needed’? What does that even mean?

“You can’t back out now, they already have your name. Think about how that would look.” Jared raised his eyebrows at her and she could only clench her jaw. He was right, and that only pissed her off. He was smarter than she cared to admit. 

“I hate you for doing this to me.” Y/n growled as she sat back down in her seat. Jared smiled, the action quickly faltering when he realized she would not be smiling back at him. 

The sun was just beginning to fall towards the horizon as the auction started. Jared explained that Y/n was to stay in her seat until they introduced her, then she would head up on stage. The whole notion of selling dates with women churned at her gut, causing her to leave her desert untouched. 

As much as she hated the idea, she was in this now. There was no way she could go back without making herself and the charity look like fools, and she hated that Jared knew that too. The only saving grace that was helping her hold back the bile in her throat was that she knew it was all for charity. 

She did a quick check of her makeup as woman after woman was sold to the highest bidder. One more girl was sent off to her fate, when the announcer introduced Y/n as the next prize. She made her way to the stage, her head held high and a polite smile on her face. 

“Miss Padalecki is a seasoned and truly talented makeup artist. She studied at E.I. School of Professional Makeup in Hollywood and has worked on multiple television shows, including the one in which her dear older brother, Jared Padalecki, stars; Supernatural. This beautiful woman also owns her own makeup line headquartered right here in Austin; Et Cetera. Shall we start the bidding at one thousand dollars?” Multiple hands went up before she could get the words out, much to Y/n’s surprise. The number jumped to five thousand dollars before she even had a chance to blink. 

“Ten thousand.” A hand in the far corner went up and her eyes immediately snapped towards the voice. Y/n would recognize that voice anywhere and her suspicion was confirmed when she locked eyes with those familiar golden green orbs. Her breath caught in her throat as she finally understood what Jared had been talking about. He had set this all up, reasons for which she didn’t understand. Last she knew, the two of them hadn’t even been on talking terms. What had she missed?

A few more people out bid Jensen, and she wasn’t sure if she was relieved about that or not. Hell, she wasn’t even sure if she should be relieved. But Jensen, the stubborn ass he was, wasn’t letting her go that easily, coming back with a counter offer of a good three grand over the last one. He was dead set on making sure he won this one. 

“Eighteen thousand.” Some guy called from a table in the front, but she didn’t even glance his way. The steady drumming in her chest began to pick up pace, threatening to burst from her chest as she waited with bated breath, her eyes never leaving Jensen. 

“Twenty five thousand.” Y/n scoffed, if he won this thing she was going to punch him for spending this kind of money on her, especially when he could have just called her. It was a stupid, ostentatious gesture, but that being said, she couldn’t deny the butterflies it had awoken in her gut. 

“Do I hear twenty six?” The auctioneer called out. It was quiet. “Going once,” Still silence. “Twice… Sold to paddle 853. Thank you so much for your generous donation.” Y/n let out a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. A hand found her elbow and began to guide the stunned woman off the stage. 

Her body was shaking as she fought her conflicting emotions. On one hand, she was relieved that she wasn’t stuck with an awkward night with a stranger, but on the hand, she was pissed at Jensen and her brother for setting her up. Jared met her stare across the tables and she glared before stomping off across the golf course to get her some space to think.

Her heels were just hitting the pavement of the far side of the parking lot when she heard someone calling her name behind her. She didn’t want to turn just yet to face the man she knew had chased after her, but she had nowhere else to go. 

“Y/n, wait!” Jensen tried again as the woman spun on her heel to face him, the confusion evident even behind the anger in her eyes. “Listen, I know you’re mad-”

“Damn right I’m mad! You two had no right to do this. If you wanted to talk to me, you could have just picked up the phone. Why go through all this?” She seethed.

“Would you have answered if I called?” He asked her, his head tilting even though he already knew the answer. 

“That’s not the point.” She mumbled. Though honestly, she couldn’t answer him as to whether or not she would have answered. Right now she wanted nothing more than to say no, just to pour salt in his wounds, but she couldn’t do that. 

“It’s exactly the point, Y/n/n.” Jensen’s voice dropped as he made his point. “If it helps, it was all Jared’s idea.” Jensen tried to ease the tension with a small smile and she hated how her body instinctively reacted to it with a smile of its own. She quickly composed her face as soon as she realized her slip. 

“I think that makes you feel better, not me.” She answered honestly. 

“You’re probably right.” Jensen let his shoulders fall as he looked at her. Y/n looked just as stunning as he remembered, if not more so. That fact only had his heart clenching in his chest, the evidence of his mistakes standing in front of him. As he admired her tanned skin where it showed dark in contrast against her yellow dress, the way her hair fell in waves framing all the high points in her face, and even the tension in her jaw as she fought herself to let him see her smile, all the reasons for his past choices seemed irrelevant. This woman standing in front of him had his whole heart. He understood that now. There was no one else that he would ever love more than her. 

“I know I may not be your favorite person right now, but I won’t take back what we did. All I’m asking is that you listen to what I have to say.” 

Y/n chewed on the inside of her lip as she eyed the man in front of her. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, his features pulled down as he pleaded with her. And no matter how much she wanted to tell him to fuck off, she couldn’t. All she could do was nod. 

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow, six o’clock?” Jensen offered.

“Six o’clock.” Y/n confirmed before turning away and leaving him at the edge of the parking lot. 

****

Y/n stared at her open closet, contemplating how she should dress for this. Honestly, she knew full well she was overthinking all of it. It didn’t matter what she wore, but she also knew that it was just her anxiety’s way of diverting from the real problems raging in her head. 

Eventually she just landed on a pair of jeans and a nice blouse. She paired it with her favorite sneakers. In the end, she decided she just wanted to be comfortable. 

Y/n was making sure she had what she needed in her purse when there was a soft knock on her door.

Taking a deep breath, she went to the light wooden door and pulled it open. Jensen had a soft smile on his face as he came into view. He was sporting a pair of dark wash jeans, paired with a soft looking tee. It seemed he went just as casual as she had, topping off his look with a pair of converse. 

“You look beautiful.” He noted as his eyes racked up her figure. Heat flooded her cheeks under his intense gaze.

Y/n cleared her throat, not wanting to dwell on his compliment. “Shall we go?” Jensen stepped back, signalling for her to exit. Y/n locked up behind herself and headed down the stairs outside her door that lead to the parking lot. 

Once they were pulling out of the lot, Y/n could feel his gaze on her from the driver's seat. It made her uncomfortable and hot all at the same time. “Mind paying attention to the road, you aren’t fake driving here.” She turned to him just as he snapped his head back to the road. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel weird.” 

“It’s okay. Truly this whole thing is weird.” Y/n admitted, her voice low. 

“I’m sorry.” Jensen repeated himself. Y/n rolled her eyes at that, it grated on her nerves more than it should have. 

“Jensen, you’ve got to stop saying ‘I’m sorry’. It won’t make a difference.” What she wanted to say was it wouldn’t make a difference because she had already forgiven him. What she wanted to say was he was wasting his breath. But she didn’t, just because she forgave him didn’t mean that everything was rainbows and butterflies. Jensen still owed her an explanation. And besides, it was fun to watch him squirm a little. Her comment had officially shut him up, for now. She could see where his jaw was clenched as he kept his eyes fixed directly ahead. It almost made her feel guilty… almost. 

Jensen pulled off towards McKinney Falls State Park, parking in a secluded spot under a tree. He hopped out of the car without a word. She watched him as he walked around the car and opened her door for her, offering her his hands as she stepped out. With a silent ‘thank you’ he let go of her hand and went to his trunk. Y/n couldn’t help her curiosity, only to have it satiated as he pulled out a small cooler and a rolled up blanket.

“A picnic?” It was hard for her to hide the upturn of her lips. 

“Yeah, last I remember you liked my cooking. And I thought you would feel more comfortable away from my place.” Y/n cast her eyes away from him. It was a sweet gesture, and she had to fight the tears stinging in her eyes. Sometimes she really hated how easily she cried. 

“Lead the way.” Jensen moved past her into the relatively empty park. The whole place was huge, leaving plenty of space for people to spread out. They were walking for she didn’t even know how long, when he finally picked a spot under a large oak tree near the water. Jensen tossed the blanket out for them to take a seat on and placed the cooler in the center. 

“Come on.” He urged her to follow his lead as he sprawled out on the blanket. The grown man looked hilarious as he tried to find a comfortable position. Y/n crossed her legs and sat up straight across from him, waiting intently for him to start unpacking whatever it was that he had. “I didn’t think this through.” He admitted as he continued to shuffle around. 

“Just lean back against the tree.” She gestured to him and took it upon herself to pull items from his cooler. She started with the two bottles of sweet tea, then a tupperware container filled with what looked like coleslaw, followed by two bags of chips and some sandwiches. Y/n handed off Jensen his share then grabbed the forks and moved to sit next to him, her back resting against the tree. She set the container of coleslaw between them and handed Jensen a fork before turning her attention to the sandwich. Y/n took a bite, her taste buds exploding with flavor with one bite. 

“Holy,” She mumbled around a mouthful of food. 

“Yeah?” Y/n nodded, she could never deny his cooking abilities, especially considering this was one of the best sandwiches she’s ever had. How the hell does he do that? “You should try the coleslaw, it’s grandma Ackles’ secret recipe.” 

Y/n covered her mouth as she swallowed her bite. “Okay.” she agreed. Jensen filled the fork with the dish and held it out for her to eat. Her mouth closed around the utensil, her lips pulling all of the tangy salad into her mouth. Jensen had to bite back his groan as he watched her movement, followed by her eyes rolling up in her head. After all this time, she still had that effect on him, and he knew she always would. 

“Good?” The tip of Jensen’s tongue was peaking out of the corner of his mouth as he waited.

“That’s amazing, like really amazing. What does she put in that?” Y/n hummed.

“Sorry, I promised her I would take her secret to the grave.” 

“Your grandma Ackles was a very mean woman.” Jensen laughed as a pout formed on Y/n’s features. He had to avert his attention elsewhere. Y/n could have gotten him to do anything she wanted with that pout. It was unfair, really. 

“She actually kind of was.” Jensen mused, remembering the strict yet loving woman. 

The two of them continued their picnic in relative silence. Everything Jensen had put together was beyond delicious. It amazed Y/n how he could make something so simple taste so delicious. But she never doubted the man, after all he was annoyingly good at everything. 

Once the food began to dry up, they both knew that they were just postponing the inevitable. For once, Y/n found the courage to just bite the bullet. “Well, you have me here. I’m listening.” 

“Okay...” Jensen sucked in a breath as he brushed the chip crumbs from his fingers. “Gotta be honest, I’m not exactly sure where to start. I’ve gone over what I would say in this moment since you left Vancouver, but nothing ever quite came out right.” His hands rubbed up and down his jean clad thighs, one of the other nervous habits that Y/n had quickly picked up on from him. He cast his glance down for a moment, before looking back at her. Her eyebrows were perked up on her forehead as she waited in silence. 

“Jared and I have talked. We’ve actually been talking for a couple weeks.”

“I’m glad.” And she was glad for the both of them. They were important to each other and they deserved to be in each other’s lives. As much as she hated how much their mistakes broke her relationship with her brother, she also hated what it did to Jensen and Jared’s relationship.

“He actually came to me and we hashed out our differences. I mean we aren’t where we used to be but I think with time we will get there. He told me you guys are talking again too.” 

“Yeah, well it’s debatable how long it will last this time.” Y/n grumbled. She was still pissed at him for lying to her and she felt like being dramatic about it for a while. 

“Y/n/n, we messed up, I messed up. We went about this all the wrong way. But I don’t take back leaving you, because it did give you a chance to make up with your brother, and that’s all I ever wanted, your happiness.” Jensen admitted. 

Y/n pursed her lips, pushing down the fight building in her chest. “So why are we here then?” 

“Because you’re not happy Y/n.”

“And you know that how?” She pushed back. 

“Jared told me you are thinking about selling Et Cetera.” 

“So that means I’m unhappy?” 

“Yeah, it does. I know you better thank you want to believe. Selling the most cherished thing to you and moving across the country away from everyone and everything that you love is not like you. The woman I fell in love with fights for what she believes in, for what she wants. And I can’t let you go without telling you it’s a mistake.” 

“All of this is just you telling me what is best for me again. I don’t see how it’s any different than the last fight we had.”

“It’s different because you know it too. You’re running, and don’t try to lie to me. I know this is about me.”

“So what if it is? I reserve the right to make my own life decisions.”

“You’re absolutely right, you do. But I can’t let you do that without knowing all the facts. Y/n, I love you, and selfishly I don’t want you to go. Walking out that door in Vancouver left this emptiness in my chest that’s suffocating me. Everyday I wake up wondering how you are doing, and if you are okay. You’re the first person I wanted to call when my manager set up this big audition for me, and you were the first person I wanted to call when I didn’t get the part.” Jensen let out a huff, composing himself before continuing. “I just couldn’t let you go without knowing that.”

Y/n was at a loss for words, for the first time in a long time. That was quite the admission, and what was one to say to that? “What about Danneel?” It was the only thing she could come up with in the moment, her words startling even her.  

Jensen smiled. “I was hurting and needed a friend to talk to. I was looking for advice on how to get myself out of this funk. Danneel knows me just as good as anyone.”

“What did she tell you to do?” 

“She said that if I love you, and you love me then we would find our way back to each other, even if I had to go and get you.”

“So this is you just coming to get me then.” Y/m mused to herself, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “What if I don’t love you?” 

“Then I’ll walk away, and you can go to New York and be a big successful business woman that lives out all her dreams. But only if that’s what you truly want.” He paused and shifted himself towards her more. “Is that what you want?” 

Y/n swallowed, the motion getting stuck in her throat. “No, I want you. It’s always been you.”

“Then please don’t do this. Stay here and build your business big enough to scare that other company into bankruptcy.” Jensen pleaded with her. Y/n shook her head, chuckling. She knew it would come to this at some point. 

“Jay, I already turned them down. You are right, I couldn’t leave my family behind, and I couldn’t leave you.” 

“How long were you going to listen to me rant for?” His voice rose an octave, his thousand watt smile returning to his face.

“You were on a roll,” she shrugged. “Besides, you said all I had to do was listen.” Y/n failed miserably to hide the smile on her face. Jensen shoved at her shoulder, sending both of them into a fit of laughter. 

As he got back his senses, a warm smile spread across Jensen’s face. There was one last thing they needed to clear up. “Listen, I know we still have some things to work on, but I want to work on them. You and me. What do you say?” 

“You had me at ‘you look beautiful’.” Y/n licked her lips, an action not unnoticed by the man next to her. Jensen shook his head, fighting back his own smartass comment. “Seriously though, best idea I’ve heard all day.” 

Jensen chuckled as he leaned himself towards Y/n. “I’d really like to kiss you now, if that’s okay.” 

Y/n reached her hand out, cupping his jaw as she ran her thumb over the stubble on his face. “You are such a sap sometimes.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“And an idiot.” She finished with a roll of her eyes, all the while smiling like an idiot herself, before leaning into him and bringing his lips to her own. At that moment, it didn’t matter what had happened in the past. It didn’t even matter what was going to happen in the future. All that mattered was that he loved her and she loved him. And all the rest, well, it would fall into place, one way or another.

Epilogue

Forevers: @spn-impala @22sarah08 @turtlepad @callmekda @chaldei @hobby27 @cowboysnwinchesters @tranquility-or-chaos @pikabootoyouchu @dawnie1988 @grease222 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @polina-93 @clarinette07 @moonlight-babeh @suckerforfanfic @witandnargles @sleepylunarwolf @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan @geeksareunique @akshi8278 @superfanficnatural @malfoysqueen14 @deanwanddamons @waywardbeanie @emoryhemsworth​ @talesmaniac89​ @waywardbeanie​

Et Cetera: @jbbarnesgirl​ @hillface89​ @arses21434​ @thevelvetseries​ @sslater34​ @mrsirishboru​ @smoothdogsgirl​ @spnfamily-j2​ @encounterthepast​ @facadeformyrealblog  @supernatural-bellawinchester​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @rebeccathefangirl​ @squirrelnotsam​ @heartinmyhead1​ @1d-killed-me​ @samsgirl93​ @deans-baby-momma​ @deanmonandnegansbitch​ @woodworthti666​ @supraveng​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @heartsaved​ @know2grow​ @littlewhiterose​ @surprisinglysarah​ @stoneyggirl​ @carryon-doctor-lock​ @thebookisbtr​ @youaremyfiveever​ @kalesrebellion​ @lilulo-12​ @winchester-fantasies​ @vicmc624​ @supernatural3002​ @winchester-writes​ @maralisa124​ @therollingstoners​ @parinarain​ @kaz11283​ @charmed-asylum​

[sunlightdances]

Public Relations (Bucky x Reader Oneshot)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader Prompt: “I’m a woman with a brain and reasonable ability” Author’s Note: Written for @captain-kelli​’s 500 Fam Writing Challenge! Congrats, Kelli, and thank you for hosting! Takes place post-Endgame, but with some adjustments to canon (Tony and Nat are alive, Steve stayed). This has a lot more dialogue than I initially planned! Hope it’s not too choppy. My love of commas is also evident in this piece. *shrug emoji* Disclaimer: I don’t own Bucky, Marvel, or any other related characters or events. The other details of the plot are mine, including the characterization of the “reader”. Please don’t post my work on any other sites without my permission! If you liked what you read, please consider reblogging to help my work be seen. I would love you forever!

Let’s clear one thing up straight away: Bucky Barnes is not an asshole. He has a chip on his shoulder, sure, and it’s also true that he can be grumpy from time to time.

But can you blame him, really?

His life after age 26 has been one giant shit show that he’s just starting to get back on track, so he thinks the world at large could forgive him if he’s not super nice to the reporter hanging around outside the coffee shop or if his resting face sometimes looks like he wants to punch someone.

Still - he’s working on it. Trying to appear a little softer around the edges, trying to remember how to be the person he once was, not because he thinks it’s healthy to try to go back to that time, but because that’s the last time he actually remembers liking himself.

But, again, he’s not an asshole. Or, he tries really hard not to be. A fact he has to keep reminding his friends of (and he uses that word loosely, sometimes), especially when you’re around.

Everything just comes out of his mouth wrong when you’re there.

Probably because you’re around all the time, and you’re smart, and funny, and pretty, and-- nope. He’s not going there. Because reminding himself all the reasons why he likes you just makes him feel more guilty about the way he acts around you. He’s just too chickenshit to admit that he likes you, and ends up being a dick.

As soon as he walks into the Tower, you’re there.

After Thanos, the Avengers returned to New York City. There’s not much left of the Compound upstate to live in right now until the rebuild is done, and he’d been thinking about Brooklyn anyway. Manhattan is different, but he feels better in the city. He thinks the rest of the team likes it here too - it reminds them of the old days, or whatever.

“Sergeant Barnes,” you greet him coolly, matching his stride as he heads towards the elevator. “There’s a meeting in fifteen minutes in the main conference room.”

Bucky makes a noise of acknowledgement, stepping into the elevator and hitting the button for the tenth floor. “Do I have a choice to attend?”

“No you do not.”

“Great.”

He thinks you’re trying not to smile. He grinds his teeth.

“Good afternoon, Sergeant Barnes,” FRIDAY’s voice comes through the overhead speaker. “Captain Rogers requests that you, and I quote, don’t even think about it.”

You snort, and Bucky rolls his eyes. “Punk,” he whispers. “Thanks, FRIDAY. Tell Captain Rogers I said, and I quote, to shove it--”

“Thanks, FRIDAY,” you interrupt, “Thank you so much.”

The few remaining minutes in the elevator are in silence, and you push your way out of the elevator before he can even take a step when it stops. Bucky follows you reluctantly to the conference room where some of the rest of the team is waiting.

Nat looks barely awake (she has trouble sleeping after literally coming back from the dead when Steve returned the stones, what a shocker), Sam is spinning in his chair, and Steve is patiently listening to Peter prattle on about some project he’s working on for biology.

“We’re just waiting on Tony, Bruce, and Scott,” you say, heading towards the head of the table. “Wanda is on a mission with Clint, and Thor is off world. No word from Carol in a few days, either.”

Steve waves you off. “Don’t worry about it. We can fill them in later.”

Bucky’s brow furrows. “Wait, this is your meeting?” He asks you. “What was the point of the AI-assisted lecture from you--” he pointedly glares at Steve.

“Because I knew you’d try to get out of it, so I asked for some help.” You smile sweetly at him.

The rest of the team files in over the next few minutes, and Bucky watches as you shuffle through a few papers before turning on the overhead projector. He has to admit, while he absolutely despises public relations, he has a lot of respect for what you do.

He knows it’s not easy wrangling Tony’s ambitions plus whatever manic situations the team get themselves in on a daily basis. Trying to do press for the Avengers is probably akin to wrangling cats, he supposes.

“So,” you clap your hands together, “the event at Children’s Hospital is in two weeks. Can we please, please avoid any earth-threatening situations that might take precedence over this? We missed it the last few years, obviously, so we need to get out there and make some kids happy.”

A murmured agreement goes throughout the room, and Bucky tips back in his chair, counting down the minutes until he can go literally anywhere else. It’s not you, really. It’s the idea of public appearances. He hates them. People still think of him based on who he was, not who he is now. Despite the fact that Steve and the rest of the team have publicly vouched for him and are working on clearing his name, he sees how people look at him.

You’re tied to that feeling, even though he knows that isn’t fair. He has a hard time separating you from your job.

“The next thing -- and I don’t want to hear about it --” You look around, eyes landing on him meaningfully, “-- there’s a magazine feature for the anniversary of the Battle of New York.”

“Well, that’s me off the hook,” Bucky says flippantly, grinning smugly at Sam, who high fives him.

“No, it absolutely doesn’t,” you argue.

“I wasn’t there, in case you forgot.”

You glare. “Thank you for the reminder.”

“Guys--” Steve tries to interrupt.

“You have to participate, because this article is about the team and how it’s grown since the inception of the Avengers.” You say, almost sounding bored. Probably because you and Bucky have this argument at least once a week.

“Bucky, it’s an hour.” Steve says gently, trying to barter.

“Whatever.” Bucky grumbles, “You know what they’re going to ask,” he says, suddenly angry. “Where was the elusive Winter Soldier during the Battle of New York? Do I remember it happening, or was I in the middle of being frozen or wiped for the thousandth time?”

You shift your weight, looking down at the floor. He feels guilty for a half second. “I won’t let them ask.”

His heart thuds weirdly in his chest at how earnest you sound, but he just can’t help himself, apparently. “Because you’re so sure they’re going to listen to you.”

Hurt flashes across your face so quickly he thinks he’s imagined it, but he knows he hasn’t. Again - he’s not usually an asshole. He still hates himself for it, though.

“Alright, we’re done here.” You say quietly, gathering your paperwork. “I’ll email you all the details.”

Sam elbows him, and across the table, Steve is giving Bucky a look that he’s come to associate with a lecture.

He sighs and rolls his eyes before getting up and heading out of the room, his friends at his heels.

“Wow, a five minute meeting,” Sam is saying, sarcastically. “Gotta be a new record, don’t you think, Rogers?”

Bucky’s new plan is to ignore Sam at all costs. It’s not a plan he thinks is going to work out in his favor, but it’s what he’s sticking with.

“You can’t ignore me forever.”

“Are you a mind reader?” Bucky asks, hitting the button in the elevator for the residential floors.

“It’s two events, Buck.” Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You can handle it.”

“Yeah? Why don’t I let you field the questions I normally get, and we’ll see how you like it.”

“I’m not doubting you. I just don’t understand why you always have to take it out on her.” Steve’s voice is so disappointed, Bucky almost wants to laugh. When his best friend turned into such a mother hen, he’ll never know.

“Don’t be late!” Sam calls as Bucky gets off on his floor, leaving the other men in the elevator.

Flipping him off over his shoulder, he hears Sam’s chuckle and Steve’s sigh before the doors close, and finally he’s alone with his thoughts.

.

.

.

Turns out the interview happens before the hospital visit.

Bucky is in an uncomfortable chair, a reporter across from him, and you behind the reporter, fidgeting slightly. He feels almost relieved that you seem to be as nervous as he is.

“Mr. Barnes,” the reporter begins, a smile Bucky already hates on his face.

“It’s Sergeant.” You say quietly from behind him, and Bucky meets your eyes briefly, seeing the resolve there.

“Of course.” The reporter says smoothly, offering another smile to Bucky. “Sergeant Barnes, you weren’t in New York for the Chitauri invasion, were you.”

“No.”

If the reporter thought he’d elaborate, he doesn’t let on. Bucky saw these questions coming a mile away, and isn’t going to give anyone the satisfaction of saying something he’ll regret. Well, he won’t regret it. But it’ll be a pain in the ass for everyone if he can’t keep his cool.

“This was the first official Avengers event. Do you remember hearing about it?”

Bucky wants to laugh. “Do I remember-- no. I don’t think I was awake for much of 2012.” You fidget again, shifting your weight, and Bucky sighs, grinding his teeth. “I’ve been fully briefed on the invasion and know that what the Avengers did that day saved the world.”

The reporter looks at him for a long moment before shifting the papers on his lap around a bit. “The Avengers have changed a lot in all those years since that first mission. Can you tell me a bit more about your role with the team?”

Bucky relaxes a bit. This is the part he prepped for, the part he could recite in his sleep if he had to. Whatever instinct he had back in the day that allowed him to lead a unit and report to his CO is still there, especially for questions like this. “I work mainly with Captain Rogers and Sam Wilson to coordinate missions and do strategic planning. Recon and research are my main areas of focus, but I go on missions too if needed as backup, or if it’s an all hands on deck situation.”

“So you’re not handling any weapons?”

Bucky blinks. Over the reporter’s shoulder, you frown.

“All Avengers team members undergo weapons training.”

“During the War, you were a sniper with the 107th, correct?”

“Yes.”

“So you’d say that you’re pretty proficient with a gun?”

Your eyes are flashing now. “I’m sorry - none of this was on the list of pre-approved questions.” You interrupt, and the reporter holds up a hand to stop you, causing you to make an affronted face.

Bucky would laugh if he wasn’t feeling so sick at this turn of questioning. Every time. No matter who they vet, no matter how many times reporters insist they aren’t trying to catch him in a question he can’t or doesn’t want to answer… this is why he hates interviews.

“I’m just saying -- you’re one of the world’s most accomplished assassins. I guess I wanted to know why you’re doing research and recon when you could be on the front lines with the team? Are they worried you’ll have a setback?”

Bucky barks out a laugh.

You start, taking a few steps forward. “That’s enough. We’re done here.”

Bucky’s already standing, pulling out the chair from behind him as you come around to follow him out, until the reporter stops you, a hand firm on your elbow. You freeze, and Bucky’s eyes narrow on the point of contact, an unfamiliar feeling surging through him.

“Do you know who I work for?” The reporter hisses. “You told me I’d have a half hour.”

“That was before I knew you were going to ask questions that have nothing to do with your article.” You reply, face darkening when he still hasn’t let go.

Bucky waits, waits for one more sign that you’re uncomfortable before he steps in.

“If you ever want to get another high profile piece done on your team you’ll let me finish here.” He threatens, hand tightening.

You sigh, almost looking bored, and in one swift move, you’ve shifted enough of your weight to turn, pulled the elbow he was holding out of his grasp, and driven it into his ribs, simultaneously kneeing him in the groin.

Bucky’s eyebrows raise, and you look at him, rolling your eyes. “What?”

“Didn’t know you had it in you,” he says, letting a smile slip out so you know he’s kidding.

The reporter is doubled over, still making threats, but neither of you pay him much attention as you walk out the double doors of the conference room in the unfamiliar magazine office, heading towards the lobby.

In the car that’s waiting for you outside, Bucky watches you carefully as you roll your shoulders a bit, clearly smarting from the move you pulled back there.

“If I would have known you could do that, I would have been a little nicer,” he teases, but there’s an undercurrent of truth to his words. Not that he thought he’d ever piss you off enough for you to hurt him, but that he wishes he was nicer to you in general.

You glance at him, face neutral. “It wasn’t that hard. Everyone who works for the Avengers goes through basic self defense training, and I’m a woman with a brain and reasonable ability.”

Bucky nods. “Still. Thank you, by the way, for putting an end to that.”

You sigh, sitting back in your seat, all the fight leaving you. “It’s nothing.” You dig your phone out of your pocket and he watches as your thumbs fly across the screen before you hold it to your ear. “Hi, Steve.” A pause, “No, that’s cancelled. You’re not doing it. Tell Tony I’m cancelling the rest of the interviews. We’ll find some other place to get it published.”

He knows he’s staring and he knows he should stop before you notice, but he just… can’t take his eyes off you. The way you stood up for him, the way you promised him you would even when he was being a total asshole… he has no idea what he did to deserve it, but he’s damn grateful.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask, your tone softer than he’s ever heard it.”

He shakes his head, looking down at his feet. “No reason. Just-- sorry I’m such a dick sometimes.”

You laugh, and he immediately wants to hear it again.

“I mean it,” he continues, “I don’t mean to be. You don’t deserve it.”

“Bucky.” Your voice is even softer, quiet, and he struggles to think if you’ve ever called him by his name before. You wait until he meets your eyes. “It’s fine. We’re all-- just trying to get through this.” You shrug. “I know it’s not easy for you. Just… Trust me sometimes, will you?”

“I do trust you.” He replies immediately, absolutely sure of himself for once.

It’s your turn to be a little surprised.

He rubs his hands together, a nervous tick he’s never gotten rid of. “I’ve been trying to distance myself because I like you. And that honestly scares the shit out of me. I don’t know--” He stops, frustrated. “I don’t know how to do this anymore. And all I keep thinking about is what could go wrong.” He takes a chance and glances up at you, and the look in your eyes… it’s more than he expected. He feels his heart take off in his chest.

“We’re both so stupid, Bucky.” You tell him, but your words are light. “You should have said something.”

He rolls his eyes. “People always say that. But when has a conversation like this one ever been one that someone wants to have?”

“Maybe when the other person feels the same way?”

Bucky can’t breathe. He never even considered it. It was always a forgone conclusion in his mind. He thinks you’re beautiful, and you never think about him at all. That was always the truth that he thought he knew. “Go out with me.” He blurts, and then feels his face redden. “I mean-- let me-- will you let me take you to dinner?”

The car stops in front of the tower and you’re opening the door before you say anything, making him panic a little. A look over your shoulder, “I’ll see if I can pencil you in somewhere.” You say, and then with a wink, you’re gone, leaving him scrambling to get out of the car to catch up to you.

Before you can, Steve is there, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Not now--”

“Can’t help it. She called a meeting.”

Bucky stops in his tracks, and laughs. “Did she.”

“She must know how much you love them. Come on.”

Upstairs he finds his usual seat next to Sam and across from Steve, but when you gather your notes and meet his eyes, yours absolutely sparkling, he finds he’s not dreading this one at all. He still wants to take you to dinner though, so he might have to try to break his own record.

A 5 minute meeting so he can convince you to go on a date with him? He thinks he can swing it.

End

[ofstarsandfireflies]

Heyo! This is another fic I was trying to make work but just couldn’t.

Hope you guys enjoy it, it’s been sitting in my phone for a year and a half hehe

Inception -

Leonardo DiCaprio is in your dreams, stealing your secrets!

“I need your help.”

Stephen is instantly sitting up in his chair as Tony tells him about the nightmares, and how they come every night in the form of the worst experiences of his life.

How he just wants to be able to sleep.

So, Stephen says he’ll help him.

He’ll go into his these nightmares and find out what is causing them.

The first night, Stephen finds himself in a military camp somewhere in a desert.

As he moves, taking in their weapons and trying to place where he could be, he sees the crates with the old Stark Industries logo on them.

And then he noticed the cave.

He slips inside, being careful not to bump into any of the ‘people’ here and give away his presence.

He’s barely taken more than a couple of steps when the screaming starts, echoing around him and making a cold sweat break out all over his skin, every working nerve in his body yelling at him to run and help while his legs lock.

Tony was the one who was screaming.

He felt the cloak push into his back and suddenly he was running, calling out for Tony to answer him, twists and turns leading him to the man surrounded by pieces of his first Iron Man armour.

Stephen just stops and stares.

He had a blue glow eminating from under the black tank top he was wearing, and the orange glow from the pits he’d been smithing at was bouncing off of the sweat on his arms.

Stephen was transfixed by the sight.

Tony must have sensed someone staring at him because a confused expression crossed his face as he surveyes the room, his eyes settling on Stephen.

He stands from the table, leaning on it for support as Stephen moved cautiously to him.

Tony was visibly shaking, and when Stephen placed his hands on the muscular shoulders, they sag instantly as he leans into Stephen’s chest, the Sorcerer’s arms winding around him.

Tony was rambling on about what he’d give to Stephen if he got him out of here, whatever he wanted, Tony would give to him just as long as Stephen saved him from this hell.

Stephen placed his hands on Tony’s face and brought it up, big teary eyes looking up at him, sparkling in the orange of the embers and desperate.

Stephen wanted to say so many things to comfort him.

He wanted to tell him so many things of how he felt.

Had always felt.

Instead, he leant in and touched his lips to Tony’s, who melted instantly against him, his hands gripping his robes to prevent him from pulling away from what he’d started.

If this was the price he had to pay for Stephen’s help, Tony was up for it.

But as soon as he had Tony trapped between himself and the table, the world around them began to alter and shift, hazing in and out before everything around them snapped back to reality.

Stephen expected Tony to throw himself away from him, to yell at him for what he’d done.

But it didn’t happen.

Stephen was panting, on all fours on the ground, and Tony was right beside him looking at him with those big brown eyes full of concern.

He didn’t remember.

Maybe that was for the best.

The second night saw him in Stark Tower.

Well this wasn’t as traumatising as the previous nightmare, so why would this be considered one?

Stephen looked around at Tony, who was dressed casually in jeans and a black sabbath shirt, a few years older than the previous Tony he had met.

Tony had a hopeful spark in his eyes as he told Stephen to do whatever he had done last time to end this dream too.

That hopeful spark slowly faded when Stephen told him he hadn’t used magic to end the nightmare, replaced by narrowed scrutiny.

He’d asked Stephen for his help to end these things, not to use for his own enjoyment because he couldn’t have the real Tony.

Stephen rolled his eyes, really not wanting to get all personal about his mixed up feelings with this dream version, when the entire tower began to shake.

Pictures fell from the walls and Tony’s liquor cabinet smashed everywhere as the two in the tower grabbed hold of the other to keep themselves balanced.

Tony really didn’t care what Stephen did in the previous dream, he just needed him to do that again so he could wake up.

And when Stephen finally tells him exactly how he had woken him up, the floor beneath them splinters and cracks and dust rains down on them from the ceiling.

Tony’s snide comment of it not being very good if he didn’t remember it had Stephen turning as bright a shade as his cloak, his own remark about how it was a younger version of Tony making this one’s eyebrows shoot up.

The tower groaned loudly and shook forcing Tony into action as he grabbed the sorcerer, pulling him hastily in for a kiss, Stephen losing his footing as they crashed to the ground.

And the shaking stopped.

Tony pulled out of the kiss first, looking around him.

Had it worked?

No sooner had the thought entered his mind, the floor they were laying on caved in, and beneath them wasn’t another room, but the infinite void of space.

Stephen grabbed Tony as the cloak around his shoulders kept them afloat.

A portal of New York City opened before them, and Stephen suddenly realised where and when he was.

It was the Chitari attack.

He’d still been a doctor at this time.

And that’s when he heard it.

Tony was muttering “Not again...Not again...” to himself over and over and Stephen could feel his chest rising and falling against his own far too quickly.

He tried calling his name but Tony didn’t hear him. He forced him to look up at him, those brown eyes he loved so much staring right through him.

All the while muttering “Not again...”

There was nothing he could do except hold him.

The third dream was one Stephen had heard about.

Tony was laying on the ground, chest plate almost cracked in half and he didn’t seem at all interested or amused by the Sorcerer’s late arrival.

Where was he when he needed him at the airport, when Rhodey was hurt?

Where was he when he needed him ten minutes ago, when Rogers and Barnes left?

Where was he when Tony needed him ever?

Stephen didn’t understand, they hadn’t even known each other at this point in their lives.

But that was Tony’s argument, wasn’t it?

Stephen had held an Infinity Stone that could control time and hadn’t even bothered to meet Tony earlier.

To be on his side when the shit hit the fan and Rogers got his american underpants in a twist over protecting a murderer.

Stephen had never heard Tony this angry before.

He knew their fights could get out of hand sometimes, and he knew they had each said some things when tempers flared, but it was never about blaming the other for something out of their control.

Then he was back.

Tony was still asleep, which he was grateful for.

He didn’t think he could face him after that.

Stephen knew this place.

He’d been here a few years ago.

Tony sat by himself amidst the red sand and rock, fragmented peices of the Iron Man suit still hanging off of his body and specks of ash blowing away from him.

Stephen stepped forward, making Tony look up.

His eyes were red and his face shining with tears.

His eyes widened however, when they found Stephen’s and spoke his name in a whispered disbelief.

Tony got unsteadily to his feet, holding his side.

Stephen knew he should leave, that he shouldn’t try to tamper with this nightmare, but his legs were moving by themselves, bringing him closer to Tony.

Tony began shaking his head, looking away from him back to where he’d been sitting, before mentioning how if Stephen was here...Peter was too right?

Stephen’s brain was screaming at him to abort this mission.

But he couldn’t.

He’d made a promise to Tony that he would stop these nightmares.

He reached for him, and Tony allowed him to pull him into his arms, asking Stephen where Peter was.

Tony’s voice was so small, so devoid of life.

He looked up at him, his eyes brimming with tears as he struggled to hold them back.

How could he explain?

He’d done so with the previous versions of Tony but this one...would he believe him? Would he know what Stephen was telling him?

This version was so utterly broken by what this nightmare was.

So what had the real Tony Stark been like when this had actually happened?

When their relationship was nothing more than putting up with one another?

Had Tony mourned him?

Was Tony as lost then as he was now?

Stephen could only hold the dreamer as his grief became too much for him and he broke down in his arms, Stephen’s robes becoming soaked as Tony cried into them.

What had he done to this man?

Why did he continue to torment him and remind him of this moment with his very presence?

Because they were friends?

Because he loved him?

Stephen wiped away the never ending tears, the cloak lending its support and warmth to the crying man as well.

“It should have been me.” Tony sobbed, “It should have been me not him.”

Stephen pulled himself out of the dream, took one look at Tony, and left without a word.

He knew what he had to do now.

He knew what he was up against.

Who he was up against.

So when it came time to enter the final dream, Stephen was not prepared for what he saw.

Black.

Surrounding the two of them was just black, with the eerie feeling they were being watched.

But Stephen knew.

In a way, he’d always known.

Whatever wanted him here had been using Tony to draw him in.

Well not anymore.

This was their fifth time, the fifth dream reincarnation of Tony Stark he had met.

He’d fought with his anger, gazed into distant eyes of denial, kissed away words of desperate bargaining and had wiped away too many tears when the depression became too much.

But this one.

This Tony was looking at him like it knew what Stephen did.

And was accepting him.

And that just made it all the more painful to do what he had to do.

With a simple incantation, a brand appeared over Tony’s arm.

Tony looked down at what Stephen had done, wide eyes staring up at him.

Now Tony’s dreams would return to what they were.

And Stephen would remain here to make sure it stayed that way.

But Tony didn’t want that.

He didn’t want to wake up if Stephen wasn’t going to be there.

And no matter how many times Stephen tries to tell him they were just dreams, Tony’s counter was that they were his dreams.

About Stephen, about them.

And Stephen can’t look him in the eyes.

Tony is shaking his head, trying to grab hold of Stephen with fingers that just went straight through him as he begins to fade.

He’s waking up.

This was always meant to be Stephens nightmare.

Tony was just used to lure him here. The entity that has been feeding off of Tony’s fears and regrets, gaining strength from all his weaknesses... He won’t let it use Tony anymore.

Stephen pressed his lips softly to Tony’s one last time as he feels them fade away from him.

When he opened his eyes, Tony was gone.

The world around him began to rumble and quake.

And the being who appeared was...himself.

Paler in comparison and wearing green robes instead of blue, but it was still like looking in a mirror.

Nightmare had really out done himself.

Nightmare mocked Stephen, told him his plans for Tony once he finally got rid of the meddlesome magician, pulling a fabricated Tony Stark to his side

The Tony of Stephen’s dreams, wrapping Nightmare’s arm in his own and standing dutifully by his side.

Nightmare knows Stephen can’t defeat him.

Stephen’s fear when it comes to Tony Stark makes him vulnerable.

Weak.

Nightmare could feed off of his torture for eons.

Stephen’s more than prepared to go through with it.

With Nightmare focused on himself, he won’t have time for any one else.

And that’s the way it would have went had Tony Stark not landed right beside Stephen and blasted his double away.

He is pissed that Stephen chose to play the self sacrificing card when he was trying to tell him how he felt.

You don’t do that to someone, especially after you’ve just witnessed all their flaws and fears.

Nightmare just grins at them.

He knows everything Tony is scared of. He’s a complicated human, but a human none the less.

But when he tries to change the dream around them, he can’t.

And as he fails again and again, Tony just stands there.

He’s not worried about those dreams anymore.

He’s come to accept them, completely erasing the fear he had of them.

And only a being who has conquered their fears can truly defeat a Nightmare.

Angered and powerless, Nightmare makes a quick escape.

Stephen tries to go after him but is stopped by Tony, who points him to the portal he came through.

And Stephen suddenly gets this gnawing feeling in his gut.

Like this isn’t the real Tony and all of this is actually part of Nightmare’s plan.

He tries telling him this, tries to get a straight answer from him, but if it is the real Tony he’s choosing the worst moment to play mind games.

And then he asks him what he believes, what he feels, as he pulls him closer to the portal.

Wherever this Tony is going to take him, back to reality or into a nightmare waiting to happen, Stephen wants to be with him, whether it’s the real Tony or not.

So he follows he him through.

Quotes -

“An idea is like a virus. Resilient. Highly contagious. And the smallest seed of an idea can grow. It can grow to define...or destroy you.”

Nightmare to Stephen

“What if you’re wrong? What if I’m what’s real? You keep telling yourself what you know. But what do you believe? What do you feel?”

Tony persuading Stephen to be with him.

In My Dreams, You’re With Me.

Nightmare has a hold of Tony’s dreams and is forcing him to relive shit he thought he’d buried long ago.

It’s up to Stephen to help.

Missed a Day? Catch up here!

Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5

Day 6 Day 7 Day 8 Day 9 Day 10

Day 11 Day 12 Day 13 Day 14 Day 15

[okk--maaan]

Idk if you write for Sackler but if you do could you do C1 from the smut ficlet prompts? ☺️ If you don't write for him any other character of your choosing would be nice :)

Hello friend! Soooo I hope you weren’t looking for actual smut lmao. Because that’s not what ended up happening here. Instead, I took the opportunity to introduce Sackler as on of my Boys.

psstt - feel free to continue to request Snackler now that he’s OFFICIALLY a part of the line up 😉

WC: ~1k

CW: again nothing really, but we got Champ now! (I really like the sentiment behind Kid, but I didn’t want to reuse that - for obvious reason), also fuck canon because this timeline probably doesn’t really fit there

You and Adam have been neighbors for a few years now. You live on the same floor, one door down from each other. It was rare for you to ever see him. You work during the day and you’re not really sure what he does, but most of New York works odd hours. He is probably in the service industry. Although you pegged him more as the eccentric type, creative, maybe a writer. Whatever he did with his time, the two of you only talked a handful of times. Neighborly pleasantries. “Hi’s” when you pass in the hallway. He once helped you carry a heavy package up the stairs. There was a dog last summer that you had to corral back onto an odd makeshift leash that Adam must’ve constructed himself.

Sackler was definitely interesting. But never anything but nice to you. Always offering a genuine toothy grin and bright eyes. Unlike the other “interesting” characters you encountered throughout the city.

------------------------------

It’s been a long week and today hasn’t gone by any faster. You’re ready for several glasses of wine, your couch, and mind numbing television. But it seems that fate -- and your friend Sam following behind you -- had different plans.

As you round the top of the staircase, you’re talking over your shoulder, and literally run straight into Adam.

Of course.

Fuck he is...solid. You feel like an old cartoon as you shake your vision back into focus.

“Oh ffuuckin shit,” Adam grunts. Waving an iPhone in the air and pointing at it like it has a personal vendetta against him he says, “Sorry fuckin cell phones. I don’t know WHAT THE FUCK IT WANTS FROM ME!” He’s yelling directly into the thing like he expects it to answer back. As he looks up he sees who he ran into. He figured it would be one of the old bats that always seem to get in his way when he’s in a rush. But all he sees is you. His cute neighbor from down the hall. His frustration flees and he feels like he’s lost control of every other brain function.

You wince through your teeth and rub the skin where your neck got twisted all weird in the collusion. “Ahhh shit, Champ. You okay?” he asks, reaching up to help you massage at the sore muscle. Like you’ve had this intimate relationship for years. And maybe you had. Maybe all those one word greetings and friendly smiles and waves were enough to develop some unspoken bond.

But obviously it couldn’t be that serious.

“Mmmh yeah Sackler. I’m good. Nothing a little stretching can’t fix,” you chuckle in response, swiveling your head this way and that to loosen up. “Maybe just look out where you’re going next time.” He jabs his finger at your chest, “Huh. I could say the same thing about you there, Champ.” With that, you shake your head and squeeze past him. He bids you and Sam adieu (his literal words) in his usual dramatic fashion.

You are fully prepared to file this bump along with your other innocuous Adam Sackler encounters.

------------------------------

You and Sam are only half way through your first bottle of wine and first episode of Love Island (the UK version - and they’re only an hour long even though it feels like a lot happens each episode) when you can tell they’re about to burst. You roll your eyes and say, “Yes Sam?” “I think you should hook up with that weird Sackler guy!” they burst. Something about that word - weird - makes your heart hurt a bit for Adam. You always had the feeling that he was misunderstood for his passions. “Come on. He’s not weird. He’s just a dude doing his own thing. And I don’t even know him well enough to know what ‘his own thing’ is,” you dismiss the suggestion. “Okay sure. But he’s clearly into you, Champ,” they wiggle their eyebrows on that last word. How many times can you roll your eyes tonight? Maybe you should start keeping count.

“I. Dare. You.”

Fuck.

Sam knew you wouldn’t, couldn’t turn down a dare. Neither of you did since the inception of your friendship. One of those stupid things you say in the middle of the night that never goes away. Although it seemed like Sam was daring you more than you were daring them.

Faced with the ultimate checkmate and no other moves left, you down the rest of your glass and take a couple extra sips from the bottle. “Fine,” you spit as you stand for the door. “But you’re buying pizza when I get back.” Sam throws their hands in the air, accepting the wager.

Add another tally to the eye roll count.

As you leave your apartment, you realize you only have like 10 feet to figure out a game plan. You couldn’t really just walk up to this practical stranger and say ‘hey wanna fuck?’. Could you?

You shake any inhibitions from your body, decide to just wing it, and knock on Sackler’s door. On the other side, you hear crashing and clanking before he yanks it open. And of course he’s already shirtless. And sweaty. Why is he so sweaty?

“Ohh heeyy yoouuu. You’re not here to sue me or anything are you?” he chuckles nervously. Instinctively, your hand finds its way to the back of your neck. “Nah man. Who do you think I am? Mr. Anderson?” you point a thumb towards the other end of the hall. “Fuck. Yeah. That guy thinks he fuckin owns this place. So what’s up then?”

“Wanna fuck?” you ask, more straightforward than anything else you’ve ever said in your life.

Sackler nearly chokes on the spit in his mouth. But he couldn’t be more fuckin wired. He’d been waiting for this day since you fuckin moved in. “I thought you’d never fuckin ask, Champ,” he says with a devilish grin, stepping aside. Finally letting you into the world that was the enigma of Adam Sackler.

[soundtrackofversace]

Episodes 5 & 6 Summary

Okay so we’re going to try and cover a lot in a little, because a lot of good music examples span a few episodes, not to mention that this is the juicy part (we really start to see the foundations of a lot of relationships and personality traits). Last we left off, Andrew was butting his head in where it didn’t belong in David’s personal life, trying to marry him in a last ditch effort to ‘fix’ his life and inflating his role in their relationship. Because the show operates retroactively, I think it’s worth reminding exactly who Andrew has killed at this point, especially because I’m about to talk about them when they were alive. In chronological order, we’ve got Jeff Trail, David Madsen, Lee Miglin, William Reese, and Gianni Versace (the entirety of his victims), so now we’re getting into the time in Andrew’s life prior to becoming a killer.

In the rest of Episode 5, we get to learn more about Jeff Trail and understand the nature of he and Andrew’s relationship. Not only that, but we also get our first glimpse of Versace in a while, albeit still only included as a framing device for Cunanan’s storyline (or more accurately here Jeff’s storyline). Both Versace and Jeff are dealing with life as a queer man in the 90’s, but they each have very different experiences. Due to his fame and fortune, Versace must contemplate coming out to the public from a business standpoint, with Donatella concerned it will affect the business and Gianni not having a care in the world about it; he’s certain that those who deserve his business would remain loyal. While he has to consider the business, for the most part his wealth and influence allows him to go relatively unscathed; he’s able to give an interview for a queer magazine offically coming out without any real concern for his close relationships or personal safety. 

Jeff, on the other hand, is a retired Naval officer who is very much in the closet; only his sister and close friends know anything about his sexuality. Instead of a reaffirming interview celebrating his sexuality, Jeff gives a 48 Hours interview about life in the military during Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, a super bigoted and ignorant tactic that the government used in the 80s and 90s to ‘allow’ gays in the military, they just couldn’t talk about it. This obviously meant that being gay was looked down upon, leading to a really crappy life for queers in the military. Jeff gave his interview anonymously, only making the shame he was supposed to feel more painfully obvious. In the interview Jeff discusses his reasons for leaving the military; at one point during his service he witnessed a group of officers beating up a presumably gay man and intervened, which called his sexuality into question (which just baffles me like...because I don’t think you should actually beat another person, I’m gay? ok buddy). From there, Trail himself was bullied and pressured out of the military, fearing for his own safety. As someone who had idolized the military from a young age, Jeff was torn; while he knows it was the right choice to intervene in that fight (that one gay guy would have definitely died), there’s also some serious regret about saving him, because it clearly outed him and prevented him from having a future in the military. There’s an encounter between Trail and his superiors where they seem to be trying to get him to out himself under the guise of sensitivity training (what a fucking joke, I truly scream-laughed when I watched that), which seems to be the final straw for Trail to officially feel unsafe. 

Also in Episode 5, we see the inception of Jeff and Andrew’s relationship: while patronizing a gay bar for the first time, Jeff meets Andrew and is pretty immediately intoxicated by his worldliness and mysteriousness that Jeff has equated to queer culture. There’s a manic pixie dream girl vibe to Andrew, and now it’s clearer how it could have taken so long for Andrew’s friends to catch on to his bullshit. If Andrew had actually taken the time to achieve any of the goals he claimed to have already achieved, he just might have stopped lying long enough for people to actually like him, but obviously we’ll never know for sure. 

Episode 6 helps to indicate how Andrew was able to transition from life at home with his middle class family that embodies the ordinary life Andrew thought he was too good for. We see the way that Andrew has managed to seem as rich and successful as he has is because he acts as a gigolo to Norman Blachford, a wealthy older man that Andrew lives with and gets large sums of money from in exchange for intimacy. Well, Andrew is determined to get his money and yet still get the guy, so at his birthday party he has to juggle satiating Norman and that relationship while also trying to woo David. Throughout the party Andrew also does anything and everything to make himself seem important and rich, including giving Jeff a new gift that is more expensive than the one he actually brought and making him change his shoes into designer shoes Andrew bought for him to wear. It’s clear that this is the beginning of the end of their friendship, as Jeff clearly thinks Andrew is on some shit for that behavior. This episode is truly the only stretch in Andrew’s life (besides his teenage years when his father did it for him) where his life seems to be going exactly how he wants it to; very little responsibility, loads of discretionary spending, pretentious and boujee company and activities and an absolutely crazy and grandiose mansion to live in rent free. He appears to others the way he has always thought he should, and without a stitch of genuine effort or determination on his part (except determination to manipulate maybe). 

[wiener-soldiers]

tipsy (i) - peter parker

summary: you lost five years of your life to the blip. five years without your family, your friends, and without really being alive. your dad’s solution? send you and your friends on a fully-paid vacation to spain. no superheroes stuff, no villains; just pure, teenage fun. how eventful could one week be?

words: 1.1k

pairing: peter parker x stark! reader

warnings: drinking (not really underage if they’re legal in that country), typical teenage stuff, young love and pining

parts: part one, part two, part three

a/n: ooey gooey teenage fluff

Basic-(Y/N) did not come out often.

She was often reserved for the two months of the year where you aren’t worried about grades and school and being stuck in an Infinity stone or whatever happened; summer.

And when summer rolled around, the VSCO-loving, Instagram-whore, Basic-(Y/N) made herself known.

You weren’t really one to try to keep up with ever-changing Instagram trends (not that you are a “not-like-the-other-girls’ trope, you just had more important things to worry about), but during the summer, everyone, most especially your dad and your best friend, encouraged you to let loose a little bit more.

So, you stood in front of your bathroom mirror, fiddling with the friendship bracelet that Morgan, your stepsister, had made for you a few days prior, and readjusting your incognito airport outfit.

“You’re overthinking this,” your Dad says as he leans on the door frame to your bathroom, sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he watches you decide whether or not you will be joining your friends on a trip to Barcelona, Spain.

You sigh and run a hand through your hair, “Yeah well, I don’t know why you’re letting me go to Spain with my friends. You’re planning something, aren’t you.”

“I am not!” he defends himself.

“Dad, you wouldn’t be paying for this trip unless you had some kind of motive,” you scoff, “Flying a bunch of teenagers to a country where we are legal? You are definitely up to something.”

Your Dad sighs before pushing himself off the threshold and walking towards you, arms open in an embrace. You quickly step into chest and breath the scent of whatever new cologne he’s wearing as he straps his arms tightly around you. You both stay in that position for a while before your Dad pulls away, ducking his head to look at your face. You stare back up at him.

“Look, kid,” he starts, “I know the Blip was hard for this family. You disappeared and came back with a new baby sister and a family who still mourned but tried to still carry on.”

Your eyes water at the thought of Morgan, the sister you cared about so deeply despite not being there for a lot of her ‘firsts.’

Your Dad smiles softly at you as you bury your head into the t-shirt he wore underneath his blazer. He rubs your back and continues, “But sweetheart, you gotta be a kid again. That grape took so much of your teenage years away and as a Father, isn’t it my job to bring it back?”

“But the drinking—”

“All of you would technically be legal if you hadn’t Blipped, except for that Brad kid. Wasn’t he like, two feet tall before?”

You laugh at him and shake your head, “I don’t know, he was really nice to me after I came back. Super understanding—I guess the trip felt like it’d be more fun with him?”

Your Dad gives his signature Tony Stark eye-roll, “Whatever, better be a good kid if I’m paying for him to go to Europe.”

The two Starks laugh in the bathroom in each other’s embrace when a buzz from your back pocket prompts you to pull away.

“Lemme guess, it’s Parker?”

You roll your eyes at the mention of your best-friend, “It is not—”

You cut yourself off at the sight of the text:

pete :)  may says u should be at the airport like 4 hrs before the flight? u still coming to pick me up or what?

“It was him wasn’t it?”

You collect your stuff and playful shove past your Dad, “He was just complaining that you take too long.”

--

Peter Parker had a long couple of months.

In an attempt to regain some of his teenage years back, he had agreed to go to Europe with his class to try to live a normal life—or some semblance of normality.

Instead, he spent his time fighting Mysterio and whatever Inception-shit that guy pulled off.

You had not been on the Europe trip as you and the rest of the Starks spent several months off-the-grid in their Upstate cabin, learning to be a family again. Peter understood the situation just fine: you had been Blipped and came back with a kid-sister. He was glad that you go to spend time with your family and adjusting to life again.

He still missed you though.

However mere weeks after the original Europe trip, Peter couldn’t say that he was expecting the text message from a group chat that he got.

(y/n)     im not in hiding any more yall. lets go on a trip

ned      the last time i was on a trip i literally almost died

betty    a trip? to where? we could come visit you upstate!!

(y/n)     don’t bother im moving back to the city with the fam. and i was thinking something…farther?

ned      florida?

mj        who in their right mind you want to go to florida?

flash    me

mj        my point still stands

brad    canada?

(y/n)     beautiful country but i can only take trees for so long. dad’s thinking spain? barcelona has sick beaches

ned      not all of us can afford spain…

betty    and ned’s original point? last time we were in europe we almost died

(y/n)     first off! a few things are gonna be different! one, ill be there. two, the avengers have resettled, my dad’s moving back into the city so threats can be handled by them. and three, dad’s paying for the whole thing. says we need a PROPER vacation. not like your europe trip that sounded like hell

peter    cmon guys i think it’ll be a good idea. we could all use a hard reset before school starts up again.

That’s where Peter found himself; sitting on the couch playing iMessage games with you as an episode of Law and Order played aimlessly in the background. His suitcase lied on his lap to make sure that May couldn’t sneak the suit in there when he wasn’t looking. Everyone needed a real vacation; he was just happy Mr. Stark felt the same way.

“No suit this time?” May asks from in front of him. He looks up and finds her holding the suit with eyebrows raised.

He shakes his head, “Mr. Stark said he’s got all threats under control and that we should just be kids and enjoy our trip.”

She nods understandingly and presses a kiss to Peter’s head, “That I can agree with. But if anything goes wrong, you call Happy okay? He’ll come get you.”

Peter shudders, “I can’t believe you’re dating him.”

“I wouldn’t call it dating per se…”

“May!”

A loud honk from the open window separates the two of them. Peter winces slightly before looking at his phone, only to see a text from you from a couple of minutes ago.

(y/n) <3    expect a honk! warned you lol

“That’s my ride,” Peter says before embracing May.

“Be good,” she says affectionately.

Peter nods against her, “Aren’t I always?”

taglist:  @sebastianstanfoundmymixtape @httpmcrvel @lionheo04

[oh-phineas]

Emma’s 2020 Questionnaire! 

Your Name: Emma Characters: Phineas Flynn, Tiana Truitt, Aquata Triton, Henry Charming, Evelyn Deavor Pick one of your characters and talk about their growth (we recommend choosing an older character, but it’s up to you!) What about their story has surprised you? What are you proud of? How have they changed from their original inception to now? I’m going to talk about Phineas because I’ve had him for the longest and I think he’s the one I’ve been able to spend the most time developing. So basically something I struggled with when I first picked up Phineas was how he deals with people he doesn’t like, because in the show I don’t think he really dislikes anyone. And I feel like this drama with Tony recently has finally helped me crack what Phineas’s deal is when it comes to conflict-- he doesn’t really feel down about it unless he feels like his character is being questioned, and that’s why with Wilbur he’s mostly like whatever while with Tony and Lock (in the past) Phineas has gotten petty and vindictive-- he doesn’t like the role he’s found himself in and he takes that personally if that makes sense. (Also Phineas just way prioritizes his job with Cornelius over getting back at Wilbur, even if he’ll make the occasional jab at Wilbur in Among Us or on Twitter). So that’s been really cool to explore. And I think he’s also gotten a little less finance-bro-y than I originally intended, but I think that side of him will definitely come out once he graduates and goes to uni. I think the thing I’m most proud of with him is kind of maintaining that balance between being totally likeable and fun while also pretty infuriating and obtuse, like he’s a sweet and well-meaning person who’s also really annoying and idk I think I do that balance well.

Pick another character (or the same character if you only have one) and talk a little about where you WANT them to go. What are your plans for them going into the new year? I’m really excited to see where Tiana goes! Ever since I picked her up, I’ve been focused on this goal of getting the restaurant to happen and now that I’ve done that, there are a lot of possibilities. I want to see Tiana burn out from the stress a little bit-- maybe take on more than she can handle because a big part of her arc has been learning to accept help and collaborate with people, and I got to do that a lot with planning Tiana’s Place, but I would also really like to see that continue because those tendencies don’t really go away. I also want LOVE for Tiana even though I keep saying she doesn’t have time for it-- I want her to get a stupid crush that distracts her from work lol I think it could be really fun. And I’m also really excited to keep developing all her friendships, I love all of her Swynlake native connections and PRINCESS HOUSE and other small business owners and now that she really feels like she has put down roots with her restaurant, I want to see her branching out more.

Pick a thread or a plot that you’re proud of and talk about why you loved it. In terms of your own writing, identify 1-3 strengths and talk about why you think it’s one of your strengths. Ok sorry to keep talking about Tiana I promise I have other characters but I’m really proud of all of the different characters I incorporated into the Tiana’s Place opening. My goal was to make a real community effort to show that, no matter how much she wanted to do it on her own, she still has a whole group of people supporting her and who have a stake in it-- from Nuka and Ratigan in the beginning with the financial stuff to Clara and Toulouse and Laszlo with the music/art to Jun and Al for business advice to all the people who donated to the raffle. And the raffle was so fun and I hope people use that for plots!!

I also gotta shout out one more: writing the pirates AU Phineas and Ferb stuff was so much fun and really pushed me as a writer I think. I was a little uneasy going into pirates because action/movement/fights are not my strong suit and I knew there would be a lot of that. But the generated stuff was really helpful in kickstarting some ideas and Sid was so great to work with on that. I thought we got really creative and personally I had so much fun and I hope other people did too. 

In terms of strengths for my writing-- I think I’m good with flaws? Like even characters who are really sweet and nice (I’m looking at you Henry) I think I try to show the different sides of them and explore how you can be both really well-meaning and really misguided at the same time. And I think that’s good because it has the potential to cause conflict and drive forward more plots where there’s no clear ~bad guy~ just flawed people trying their best and that’s the most interesting stuff to me. Of course I also love big bads! I think macro plots are really important. I think my niche though is those petty little conflicts and I think I do a good job with them. 

I’m adding another too because you know what why not. I think I've gotten pretty creative recently?? Like I’ve done some really weird fun stuff this year-- Henry and Jake’s acapella audition is up there as one of my favorite threads, and I’m really excited about Tiana and Aurora’s fake date and Greg and Q doing Santa’s Workshop and I think Henry’s first open was one of my favorite opens I’ve done. Idk I think one of my insecurities about RP has always been that I worry I don’t bring enough ideas to the table with plotting and I think I’m getting better at letting my brain dream up weird cool stuff.

In terms of your own writing, identify 1-3 areas of improvement.

Like I said, plotting is still something I struggle with-- I spent the majority of my early RP experience in a very gif-chat-heavy open-heavy fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants rp, so coming to BDRP even back during round 1 in 2017, plotting was a big surprise to me. And this is also something that I struggle with in my non-RP writing-- story arc and structure is something I have always wanted to improve. But I think I’m getting better at fleshing out ideas and not putting too much pressure on myself. And I think I’m also getting better at stepping out of my comfort zone and messaging people I don’t write with as often which is important because literally everyone here is so fun and talented! So I want to keep doing that. I know I can be a little shy sometimes (this sounds SO weird I never shut up lol but it’s how I feel) and I don’t want that to hold me back

In terms of actual writing stuff, I’d like to expand my vocabulary a bit more? I think I use certain words and phrasing so often that it annoys me and maybe it annoys no one else and my writing will be worse if I try to throw in unnecessary words but yeah. I think reading more will help with that. And in general I just really want to get better at thinking stuff through and building story arcs. 

Pick one of your plots, or even just a character, and come up with a list of 3-5 “mentor texts” where you can look for inspiration or research, then write a short (2-4 sentences) why you picked those texts. (They don’t have to be books, either!)

Ev is the one I feel like I need to do the most development on so here goes!

1. Red White and Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston, specifically the character Nora

Messy nerd girls! Messy nerd girls! Please recommend me more things with messy nerd girls! Nora is basically Ev’s exterior, the person people know her as. She’s chaotic and fun and relatable, and also kind of a genius.

2. Macbeth, specifically the character Lady Macbeth

This is one I wanna dive into! I’ve seen a heavily abridged version of Macbeth and that’s about it but I have a copy sitting on my desk. I love a villain who likes to stay behind the scenes and pull the strings, and while Ev is in this for “moral reasons” (lol) she’s also in this for #power. I’m not used to playing manipulative villains-- I’m usually more of a henchperson type deal, so the ultimate 4-D chess gal would be some good inspo.

3. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, specifically Professor Quirrell.

Ok I am really sorry to bring Harry Potter into this but I think something that’s important about Ev is that one of the things distracting from her villainy is her vague air of incompetency. We know she’s very smart and she has the whole nutty-professor thing going, but she’s kind of a mess and I want characters to underestimate her. I think Quirrell’s vibe of being nervous about everything is similar to Ev’s messy exterior and I would love a good end-of-the-book villain reveal.  And now, a wishlist! Jot down a few themes or stories or genres etc that you want to maybe pursue in the upcoming year! (i.e. a good ol’ fashion forbidden romance, maybe you want to dig deep into racial identity etc) This doesn’t have to necessarily be attached to any characters or stories you have now– it’s just meant to help you see for yourself what kind of stories call to your heart.

Oooh so many things. Generally more romance-- I always hesitate a little with shipping IDK WHY maybe it’s insecurity about jumping into what always feels like a bit plot to me lol. But I wanna take that plunge more-- especially with Tiana! But I’m pretty much open to stuff with anyone, especially really silly rom-com type stuff. I also think that my shipping niche is super complicated stuff with villains (the irony and craziness of the Henleigh situation is so FASCINATING and FUN and I want MORE OF THAT) so just saying a I’m-flirting-with-you-because-you’re-a-good-ally-to-have-on-my-side-oh-no-I’m-actually-falling-for-you thing with Ev could be really fun (LISTEN her entire tag is just shipping content. I scroll through so much of it so of course it gave me some ideas)

I’m also REALLY jazzed about the uni stuff going on right now. Like I’ve said before, I think college is a really interesting place and so much weird shit happens there because you have all these 18-22 year olds living in close quarters and they come up with weird ways to entertain themselves. The secret santa/RA stuff has me loling every day and I just love stuff like that. Like, I’d love to have shenanigans like people sneaking into dorms and staying up until 3 am in the library and all that stuff. I just love that stuff.

Also I am really trying to do big bad stuff with Ev!! As I have mentioned... plotting and story arcs are a major thing I’m trying to work on, so it’s a lot to think about, but I would really just love to do all kinds of things-- I’d love to have her enable small-time villains, or manipulate people who are easily swayed, or to trick people. It’s a new area for me, but it’s something I’m excited about and I want to challenge myself.

OPTIONAL: Why do you RP?

Because I literally can’t stop apparently lol. No but the thing I love about RP is getting to collaborate on a story and getting surprised by people, getting to geek out about something that I can also participate in, and having NO RULES. I think there’s something really special about having an interest that I can’t monetize or market, that I can do for pure fun out of my love of creating and writing. And I love having a community of people on the ride with me. It’s so much fun and I’m so grateful for you guys!

I always end with a gif so here’s my favorite gif it legit makes me laugh out loud