#they’re still teens let me see silly little teen stuff along with the life or death stuff lol

[nerd-at-sea5]

i think season 3 of yellowjackets should have a scene where they’re all standing at the edge of the lake, the music is super intense and everyone is very tense, very focused, clutching something tightly in all their hands. it’s a big moment, Something is about to happen, but we don’t know what….

all of a sudden one of the girls starts counting down, the music climaxes and as the countdown comes to an end all the girls fling their arms out sideways, and skip the rocks they were holding as fast and as hard as possible out on the late

[anxious-allie-ren]

Hey everyone! I’d like to introduce the new story I am writing! You can find it on both my AO3 and Wattpad. Both of which are linked in my bio. But I’ll also be posting the chapters here for you all. Be easy on me as I haven’t quite figured out how to post chapters on here and create a master list. That is something I will be working on. Alright, now in to the good stuff.

Erota

As the only daughter from a high society family, the pressure is on you to impress the ton and find a suitable match. You hope to find love, but your fate is decided for you. Your marriage is arranged to King Kylo of Chandrila. Pain and tough decisions are soon to follow.

This story is inspired by Bridgerton and regency era.

Hello everyone! I have been dreaming of writing this fic for a bit now and finally gathered the courage to do it! Like I said in the description, this story is heavily influenced by the regency era and the Netflix show Bridgerton. I've done my best to keep it accurate to both the era and the Star Wars world. I hope you enjoy!

The Ton.

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

The season has finally arrived. You have officially joined the ton and are coming out into society. The debutantes of higher society are to be presented in court. This now includes you and your family.

You were the only child of the Duke of Selonia. A small territory southeast of Drall within the kingdom of Corellia. It's a quaint little area, nothing to brag about. It was cozy and calm. Many of the families had lived in the area for generations. Neighbors all knew each other. But despite its comfort and kindness it was lacking funds.

Since you had been able to remember, life was very simple. You helped in the gardens, the kitchens, and even with the laundry work. Your family took trips to town often, visiting with the people. Your mother loved to stop at the bakery and buy pastries to bring back to the estate. She told you stories from her childhood as bedtime stories. Coming from a common family and marrying into high society. Your parents married for love and not statues. Many scolded your father for marrying "below his station" but he let their words roll off his shoulders. He was attracted to your mother for her beauty, kindness, and capabilities. Your mother was no stranger to hard work, and she assured you weren't as well.

As you matured, you watched as your home aged as well. Bricks began to weather with time and vegetation started to take over. Farmers had less success each year and businesses were closing. The help your father was once so quick to provide had now dwindled into nothing. There was no help to give. The funding was nearly gone. After your mother's death, the strong and reliable man you had once called your father was gone. What replaced him was a shell of a man. He gave up on his duties as a duke and instead threw his time and money into bad habits. Gambling and drinking had become his crutch.

You lost your mother in your adolescence. Still a young girl so in need of a mother and her guidance. Her death left you confused and in desperate need of comfort. You tried to lean on your father. But in his own grief, he seemed to forget about you. Instead, you turned to your community. The maids and butlers became your family. They ensured your schooling would continue. The men even went as far as to teach you math and science. When you entered your teens, you attempted to take on the dukedom in secret. You went over all the documents and finances, trying to find a way to help your people and restore your estate. It was to no avail. Nothing could be done without your fathers signature. So you were left with no choice but to let it go. You focused on your studies and lessons with the maids. They helped bring you to maturity. Now, it was time to join society as an eligible woman.

Marriage has been heavy on your mind for many years now. The idea of meeting a man and marrying just for statues or titles didn't interest you. Neither of those things mattered to you. A marriage had become something with such a negative connotation. But love, now that was very different. You yearned for a true love match. You craved a deep connection unlike any you'd ever experienced. As a child, you'd developed small crushes on some of the neighborhood children. The butterflies and blushed looks were something you understood. But you'd never felt love before. You loved your family of course. You even loved your townspeople. But that was so different from what you hoped to find.

Becoming a debutante was not something you were looking forward to. Joining the ladies of high society was only asking for drama. But as the daughter of a Duke, it was your duty to join the ton and find a suitable husband. This had become increasingly important as your territory lost more and more money to your father's lifestyle. These thoughts scrambled around your mind as you got ready. You would be heading to the first ball of the season, your entrance into society, in moments. You were dressed in your nicest items. A deep red ball gown embroidered with golden florals along the bottom of the skirt and corset. Your hair was pinned back, allowing your face to stand out. Your maid, Jillian, was helping you put on your shoes as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Jillian had been with your family before your mother passed. She had watched you grow from a pained child to a strong young woman. She was with you every step of the way. Jillian became a motherly figure and your most trusted confidant.

Jillian pats your calf as she begins to stand, finished with clasping your heels. Her touch pulls you from your thoughts. You give her a polite smile and thank her, turning back to the mirror. Your anxiety is growing with each tick of the clock and in typical Jillian fashion, she can sense your discomfort. She comes to stand behind you, adjusting the pins in your hair.

"You know you're prepared for this. There's no need to sit and worry."

You meet her gaze in the mirror, her gentle blue eyes giving you a wave of comfort. You let out a sigh and play with your fingers.

"I felt prepared, but now that it's upon me, I'm not so sure. So much is at stake here, Jillian. The people of Selonia are relying on me to find someone who can help. What if I'm not up to standards?"

Jillian only chuckles at your words and places her hands on either of your shoulders.

"Standards? Now you're just being silly. You are a kind, intelligent, and strong young lady. Any suitor would be lucky to have you as his wife."

You turn to look at her, face scrunched in concentration.

"That's exactly the issue! It can't just be any suitor. They need to be able to fix dukedom and be the love I've been waiting for. What if that's unrealistic? How can I ever find someone to do both?"

Jillian places a comforting hand on your cheek, her thumb slowly stroking your cheekbone. She gives you a small smile before she speaks.

"Is that what you're so worried about? Dear, you're placing too much stress on yourself. Don't worry about the dukedom or Selonia. Go and find your love, everything else will fall in place."

You lean into her hand and smile, her words bringing you peace and a newfound sense of confidence. She pulls her hand away and turns towards your bedroom door. She calls back to you, "Now let's get you going! It's time."

————————————————

The carriage stopped in front of the King's summer estate. Many of the guests were already walking up the grand entrance and making their way inside. Your father hurried around and opened the door for you, holding his hand out and helping you down. Tonight he was doing his best to look and act presentable. You place your hand in his bent arm and let him lead you into the ball. Neither of you had spoken more than a few words to each other in years. You were surprised he even accompanied you tonight. His presence only made you nervous again. You weren't sure what his intent was by coming. Was he finally stepping back into his positions as father and Duke? Or was there some ulterior motive?

You found out quickly as he leaned in to speak to you, just as you were arriving at the entrance of the ballroom.

"I am expecting you to perform well tonight. I want to see gentlemen callers of high status calling on you tomorrow."

You look up at him and furrow your brows in confusion. So this is what he came for? To ensure you schmoozed with the highest titles with the most money? If so, he's going to be very disappointed.

"I'm here to find a reasonable suitor for myself, father. Not a suitor for you and Selonia."

He stops walking at your words, his head turning to look down at you. You can see his clenched jaw and anger in his eyes. His distaste for your words is written all over his face.

"Stop with your foolish girly fantasy of a love match. You're here to do as I say, and I'll be damned if you disobey me."

His words sting your heart. Your father had never spoken to you this way. When you were young, he was always so gentle and loving towards you. Now it seems you're just another pawn to be thrown around his chessboard as he pleased. You swallow the lump in your throat and move your gaze back down. Now was not the time to worry about this. You had more pressing matters.

You allowed your father to lead you to the entrance, stopping to allow the announcer to get your names. You took a deep breath as you prepared to face the ton. First impressions were everything, and you did not want to screw this up. The announcer clears his throat and stands at attention. Everyone in the room stops what they're doing to await the next debutante.

"Presented by her father, the Duke of Selonia, Miss Y/F/N."

You stare forward as your father leads you into the ballroom and towards the King and Queen of Corellia. You both stopped before them, your father unlinking your arms and bowing. You fall into a curtsy, bowing your head in respect. Your father stands back up and looks to the king. You stay still, awaiting the command to move. The king of Corellia rises from his throne and moves to stand in front of you. Everyone holds their breath, watching closely to see what unfolds. He places a gentle finger under your chin, raising your head to meet his gaze.

"Stand up for me, dear. You can relax."

You do as he says and stand quickly, giving him a polite smile as you return his intense eye contact. His finger never leaves your chin. He smiles back at you and begins to speak again.

"You are a true beauty, my dear. You know, they say the eyes are a window to the soul. I can see the love and strength living within yours. Hold onto that, they will be your biggest asset."

Your eyes widen at his words. You can't help the smile that spreads across your face.

"Thank you, your majesty."

With that, he removes his finger from your chin and climbs back to his throne. He turns his attention back to the room and declares, "Let the festivities continue."

Your father grabs ahold of your arm again and leads you away from the thrones. You can feel the crowd staring at you, but you can't find it in you to care. King Luke of Corellia spoke to you! Not only that, but he complimented you. This was a great honor bestowed on very few. You would take his advice to heart.

It seems your father had a different perspective. He leads you to a table with dance cards placed neatly in rows. You begin to search for your name as he smirks and begins talking.

"Compliments from the king will help greatly in gaining potential suitors. You'll be the most desired lady in the ton. Seems finding you a husband of high title will be easier than I thought."

You finish tying the card to your wrist and turn to look at the room. Your father continues to talk as you observe your surroundings. You look up at the elegant chandelier. It shines beautifully in the light, casting sparkles all over the room. You watch as they dance across the guests, creating an angelic and light atmosphere. A waiter comes by and offers you and your father glasses of champagne. You take a small sip and return your attention to the crowd. Many of the ladies are giving you glares or speaking with the eligible men in attendance. You take notice of their attire. Many have much more elegant gowns and jewels on. Their appearance shows how much they have to offer. Your feelings of inadequacy begin to creep back in. You don't even notice a man approaching.

Your gaze stops on a young man across the room. His dark brown curls and bright smile grabbed your attention. He was speaking to another man, seeming to be in deep conversation. His face was so expressive as he spoke, hands moving about to help prove whatever point he was trying to make. You couldn't help but be captivated by him. If there was anyone you were hoping to get a moment with this evening, it was him.

You snap from your thoughts as your father greets him and motions towards you. This man must have been reaching his thirties. Much older than any of the debutantes here. His bright ginger hair stands out like a sore thumb. He makes eye contact with you as your father talks. An uneasy feeling sweeps over you. For some reason, something about this man doesn't sit right with you.

"Y/N, I'd like you to meet the Earl of Drall, Lord Armitage Hux" your father says as he motions towards the man. Lord Hux takes your hand and raises it to his lips, kissing your knuckles. The contact makes you cringe internally. Your father looks at you expectantly and you quickly pull yourself together.

"Hello Lord Hux, it is so nice to meet you."

Your father smiles at both of you and claps a hand on Lord Hux's shoulder.

"Lord Hux here is a good friend of mine. I was hoping to introduce you both tonight."

The uneasy feeling now makes sense. Any friend of your fathers is likely a crook. Not at all the type of man you want to be speaking to. You nod politely, biting your tongue from speaking your mind freely. The men then turn away from you and begin a discussion of their own, leaving you out. You lift your glass of champagne back to your lips and turn your gaze back to the direction of the man you had spotted before.

Instead of finding the curly haired man again, you met eyes with someone else. Standing with his hands clasped behind his back was a raven haired man. He stood tall and broad, much larger than any other man in the room. His gaze pierced through you, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand. You wanted to approach him, but to do so would make you look indecent.

Your eye contact is cut off by Lord Hux coming in front of you. He holds out his arm to you in invitation.

"Would you do me the honor of a dance, Lady Y/N?"

You wanted nothing more than to say no and go speak to the mystery man. Or even go find the curly haired man from before. But you know you had no choice in the matter. To deny him would make you look bad to the ton. Plus, your father would never stand for it. So you placed your hand in his arm and nod.

"Of course, Lord Hux."

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

I really hope you enjoyed this! Let me know what you think!

Love,

Allie

[uiharu-and-company]

Muahahahah! Here we go again!

THE SHIPPING EXTRAVAGANZA DAY 2

(Hilda)

(Please note, I will not do ships that have huge age gaps or are considered illegal/immoral) This time it’s the Hilda fandom! Let’s see what we have!

Frilda! Frida/Hilda:

This one is cute honestly! And I mean the whole ‘I’m your familiar’ stuff is just SO GAY. LIKE WHAT- To reference these guys are only like twelve so I suffice to say I ship them when they’re older, like late teens. I ship it a lot!

Frida/David:

I agree with my friend, they are pretty cute. Again ship them when they’re older, don’t see a ton of chemistry, just lots of cuteness. I ship it somewhat.

Hilda/David:

Makes sense actually, and they would have awesome chemistry. Like “Hey David! Let’s go do *dangerous thing*!” And then David says “Oh no here we go again-”. Kinda cute but I don’t personally ship it. Still ship worthy though.

Frida/Hilda/David:

Ooh a poly! I mean I can totally see their friendship becoming something romantic. Full group chemistry? Or just good interactions? Well duh totally. I like it, but not a huge shipper of it personally.

Gerdanna! Gerda/Johanna:

Okay cute and total power couple vibes. Enough said.

Gerda/Kaisa:

Not shipped as much, but it feels like sketchbook with a little more frick Alhberg and I will murder you if you hurt my librarian.

Sketchbook! Kaisa/Johanna:

Ah yes, what most of my blog is devoted to. Love them, love how they would interact, love everything about this! SKETCHBOOK FOR LIFE. PLUS LIKE- WHY NOT. It’s adorable and I ship it one hundred percent.

Gerda/Kaisa/Johanna:

Another poly! But this one combines all the ships listed above! Love all the silliness that goes along with this and it’s honestly super cute! Ship it for sure!

Bellkeeper/Woodman:

More of a crackship? But someone made a literally amazing fic about these two, which was awesome. Plus they are super similar. Not cute per say but cool.

Alfur/Johanna:

Sorta goes along with stories where Alfur is secretly Hilda’s dad who got turned into an elf. Makes sense sorta?... I don’t ship it but cool.

Alfur/Bartell:

Haha, honestly just makes for silly situations. Plus Alfur would be that oh.... how do I cope with my crush.... I KNOW LETS RIGHT A BUNCH OF CONTRACTS! Ship.

Alfur/Adeline:

Also ship. It’s like total nerd love and that episode in s2? Cuteeee.

Alfur/Bartell/Adeline:

Also cute, feels a bit like this is just mixing both but I can sorta see it. How about this “Adeline’s first pigeon ride.” The chaos that would ensue- Hahaha!

And that’s all I got at the moment! Do tell me if I missed anything in this fandom! Tune in next time for A Certain Scientific Railgun!

Edit: I JUST REALIZED IT DIDNT POST YESTERDAY BECAUSE I HIT SAVE AS DRAFT- SORRY, ANYWAYS HERE!

Edit 2: I THINK I FIXED ALL THE TYPOS AND FLIPPED PARAGRAPHS. MAYBE.

[ikeromantic]

Fox Hunt

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfic. This scene doesn’t really occur in Ch. 11 of the Romantic Route but it’s one I imagine happening a hair before. So, another between chapters scene! Yay! Approx. 1700 words. 

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Interlude - Before the Hunt

Mitsuhide felt odd having a companion as he visited his informants, picked up letters and sent missives out to agents in the field. This was always a secretive space for him, one that even Kyubei only glimpsed - as needed. Now his little mouse tagged along beside him with her wide-eyed innocence. It made him feel . . . wary . . . in ways he never had before.

Was his contact at the Kyoto court making note of her? Had that street tough looked too long in her direction? Had she attracted too much attention when they stopped at a tea house to meet another of his spies? It left him on edge. Worried for her, worried because of her. And yet.

She had only to touch his arm, or say his name and he felt better. Besides, if they were apart, he thought, he’d only worry for her more. At least this way he knew the threats to her happiness and safety and he could deal with them.

“Mitsu, you’re frowning again.” The chatelaine pulled his attention from the door where two armed men stood, staring into the tea shop. 

“Am I?” Mitsuhide allowed himself a slight smile. “I’m afraid it’s the natural consequence of planning out this mission. But I will always have a smile for you.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead. 

She sighed. “You don’t have to force it. I am worried too, you know. Ashi-”

“Don’t use names,” he reminded her.

“R-right. Shark-eyes is out there somewhere, plotting revenge. Only we don’t know where or what. And it’s mostly just me and you to stop him. Feels kind of . . . overwhelming.”

Mitsuhide patted her hand. “I have some thoughts on that. We may have more allies than we think in this fight.” He stood. “I just realized I need to step out for a moment. I’ll be right back.” 

His little one looked up at him, clearly worried he would escape her. Silly girl. As if he could simply walk away. She didn’t protest though. Only nodded and looked down at her cup of tea. 

Out front, the two armed men smiled at Mitsuhide as he stepped out to join them. “Been hoping we’d run across you, kitsune.” One of them spoke while the other spat into the dirt. 

“To think you and I shared a hope. It is truly a frightening idea.” Mitsuhide gave them a thin-lipped smile. “But I believe our meeting today may yield benefits for us both.”

The man that spoke before drew a short blade from under his clothes, letting the edge catch the light. “I’m seeing this ending one way for you, and one for us. But I’ll make it quick and painless if-”

Mitsuhide didn’t let him finish the threat. He slammed a fist into the man’s side, his knuckles bruising against the thug’s ribs. He held the other at bay with a swift kick to his knee, sending him into the dirt beside his spittle. 

The two men gasped in pain and surprise. 

“I don’t need tricks to deal with you,” Mitsuhide sighed, wiping his hands on his cloak. “Now put that blade away before I stab you with it. I have an offer that I think will please your captain more than bringing him my head.” It took only a few moments to outline his idea for the thugs. It was light on detail and heavy on speculation, but then, Mouri wasn’t known for his focus on the details. He could only hope his offer would capture Motonari’s interest. 

They limped off when he finished, a little ‘gift’ in hand. Mitsuhide found that flattery and a bit of gold always got further than raw brutality when dealing with minions. Usually a combination of the two was effective.

He went back in and sat down beside his little one. 

“Your hair got mussed,” she smiled. And gently fixed it with her fingers. “Did you have a nice walk?”

Mitsuhide nodded. “I was able to sort some ideas I’ve had. Are you done with your snack?”

She tipped back the last bit of tea and popped a rice cracker into her mouth. “I’m done now.”

“Then we have an appointment to get to.” Which wasn’t much of an appointment since the servants at Ashikaga’s Kyoto manor had no idea they were coming.

The estate was busy with cleaning and packing, putting away the finery that was only used when the shogun was in residence. The servants watched anxiously as Mitsuhide and the chatelaine entered. 

“Are we supposed to be here?” 

“I don’t see why not,” Mitsuhide replied. “I am, afterall, in the shogun’s employ.”

“You were but . . . Honno-ji?”

He waved her objection off. “I doubt he came back here to personally inform the servants of my employment status. Though I’m sure our presence will not make them happy.”

They made their way past the audience hall and into the private rooms. It was here that they were finally stopped by one of the vassals. An educated scribe, probably barely out of his teens, thin as a twig and pale from too much indoor work. But even so, he stood in the middle of the hall and faced Mitsuhide. 

“A-Akechi, you - you aren’t allowed in the - the lord’s study. He w-wouldn’t want you there.” The scribe shook and stuttered as he spoke, clearly terrified.

“Is that so, Riku? Do you think you know what Ashikaga wants?” Mitsuhide smiled at the scribe as if he really were a satori from the stories. “No. You don’t know, but you hope. You hope that if you stop me like this, in front of the other servants, that Ashikaga will notice you. Elevate you.” 

He took a step closer to the shivering vassal. “You imagine yourself a head scribe. Perhaps wedded to one of Yoshiaki’s cousins or nieces. You imagine yourself proud. But you know that all of this is only your fantasy. That Ashikaga will never notice anything you do, nor appreciate it. So tell me, Riku, do you really want to stand between me and what I want?”

“N-no.” Riku bent his head and stepped aside, pressing his back against the wall as if to sink into it. 

Mitsuhide patted the scribe on the head. “You are smarter than you credit yourself for.” Then he brushed past and into Yoshiaki’s inner rooms. 

“You’re really scary when you do stuff like that,” his little mouse whispered. “Like you just pulled the thoughts right out of his head.”

“More like right off his face.” Mitsuhide bent to look through the shogun’s desk. It had already been cleaned out, completely. He searched for any kind of hidden latch or secret compartment. There were two - but both as empty as the rest. 

While he searched, the chatelaine went to chat up the servants. She was quite good at it too. With her easy smile and kind laugh. By the time he finished going over Yoshiaki’s office and bedroom, she was sitting in the kitchen with Riku and four other house servants, commiserating. 

Mitsuhide listened from the hall as she drew out their stories of what it was like to serve the shogun. A cold man that gave no praise, only punishment. These were not happy vassals, but rather frightened victims of Ashikaga’s whims. One after another recounted tales of his cruelty. One maid nearly beaten to death for a dusty scroll. Another with a scar for letting the tea cool. Riku’s arms were covered in scars from his ‘training.’ But perhaps this too could be useful. 

The kitsune warlord finally came in, once it seemed the well of sorrows had run dry for today. “Come, my little mouse. I wasn’t able to find anything of use.”

Riku stood, still shaking a bit. “My lord -”

The chatelaine interrupted, tugging Mitsuhide’s arm so that he turned to look. “They’re worried that if Ashikaga hears you got in and out without a fight, he’ll have them killed or punish their families.”

Better and better, Mitsuhide thought. “I will do what I can to protect you,” he told them. “But you must do two things. First - you must continue to work for the shogun as you always have.”

Riku and the maids nodded. “Of course, but h-how does that h-help us?”

“By bringing me to my second requirement. You must trust me. Completely.” Mitsuhide watched them squirm beneath his golden gaze. 

It was the maids that agreed first, giving him low bows. Riku was the last to accede, with his voice trembling and his bow unsteady. 

Mitsuhide smiled. “Excellent. The first thing you will trust me with is the names and locations of your family - those the shogun would have ready access to.”

“Aren’t you going to ask us w-where he’s gone to?” Riku stuttered the question out.

“No. None of you were given his destination, so there is no point.”

“H-how did y-you-”

The chatelaine patted Riku’s arm. “He does that to me all the time.”

It took a few hours for his little mouse to scribe down the names while Mitsuhide and Riku set about constructing a fake battle at the gates. It was all quite convincing, and to make it stick, Mitsu gave the scribe a black eye. Altogether, nicely done. 

It was almost sunset when the two of them left, following the road to the west out of Kyoto. 

“Why did you have me take down these names,” his little one asked. 

“I haven’t decided yet,” he told her. Which was only half the truth. He’d need to send agents to each of the estates specified, with gold and promises - that was the half he knew he would do. The second part still had too many unknowns to disclose, but when it came together . . .

The chatelaine leaned her head against his arm. “It feels good to be traveling together again, no matter where it is we’re headed. But I do wish we could finish shark-eyes off quick.”

“Oh? Are you delaying your very important plans for my little mission?” Mitsuhide teased her with a too-sweet tone.

She smacked his arm, giggling. “No - not exactly. I was just thinking I can’t wait to have you all to myself. Without worrying about assassinations and plots and murderous shoguns . . .”

“Ah. Well, if that’s your definition of having me all to yourself, it may never come true.”

“Maybe not, but a girl has to have some goals in life.” She smiled up at him and Mitsuhide found himself agreeing with her. It did sound like a nice life. A peaceful one.

He stopped long enough to give her a light kiss on the lips. A taste of that impossible future.

Next: An Uncertain Alliance

[hiscyarika]

Landslide: Chapter Three

Word Count: 7.2k

Summary: Reader revisits the life that she and Javier once shared together. Javier seeks to escape his father’s haunting words. 

Warning(s): Angst, Alcohol Use/Drunkenness 

A/N: So it’s only been three days since I posted Ch2, but here you go anyways. I put my heart and soul into this chapter, and I just hope that you guys are really able to connect with it and feel something when you read it. It’s a lot of angst, but this is a really important chapter, and a bit of a turning point for Javier and Reader. Thank you all so, so much for the lovely responses that I have gotten for this series. It really means the world to me. I reread the comments all the time because I just can’t believe that you all are enjoying this so much. So from the bottom of my heart, thank you 💙 And a special thank you to both @aerynwrites and @bestintheparsec for reading this chapter over before I published it. The amount of stupid mistakes you guys caught for me is astounding. Thank heavens I’ve got you or this would be some serious clownery 😂❤️ I love you both endlessly!

Masterlist

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Chapter One, Chapter Two

(Gif by @pascvl​, originally from this post) Please let me know if you’d rather me not use the gif. I’ll remove it immediately! No questions asked.

You shake your head as your mother brings over another box of old junk to sort through. “Mom, promise me you’ll never hoard things like this again,” you tease, chuckling softly and rolling your eyes. You then take a seat next to her on the floor of the attic, ready to help her sort through the items.

“Now you just listen,” she starts, “Some of this stuff can make us a few bucks in the community yard sale.”

“You’re gonna need your own entire estate sale to get rid of all this,” you reply, pulling out the heavy case at the top of the box. It immediately catches your eye, and you laugh as you realize what it is. “I think everything in here is mine,” you tell her, beginning to unzip the aged leather case.

Your mother searches the surface of the cardboard box, looking up at you again when she finds what she’s looking for. “Ah, yes!,” she confirms, “This is some of the stuff we boxed up after you left for San Antonio, when you were working as a secretary for that law firm.”

You open the case, smiling when you see the old typewriter it holds. Dust covers every inch of the little machine, and you giggle softly as you press down on a few of the keys, causing the strikers to shoot up, though there’s no paper for them to mark. “I remember when I got this. It was the first one I had for myself. Dad was so happy I wasn’t using his all the time.” You zip up the case and set it aside. The task of cleaning things out for the yard sale has been forgotten.

“Oh, yes. He would gripe at me all the time, telling me you needed to quit using all of his paper and ink,” your mother tells you, laughing right along with you. She reaches into the box next, pulling out a rather large photo album. She puts it on the floor between you, and you feel a light blush come to your cheeks as she starts to go through all of the pictures she has from your childhood. You remember well that she always had her camera out. She never wanted to miss the opportunity to capture a memory, no matter how silly it might have seemed in the moment.

The two of you go on that way for some time, flipping through the pages of the album. You listen to her as she tells you the stories behind many of the pictures, from times that you were too young to remember. It’s nice, being able to indulge in more lighthearted nostalgia–certainly a welcome change from the more painful memories that you’ve been forced to relive in the last couple of weeks.

Once you’ve gone through the photo album, you continue to pull random things from the box. More long-forgotten trinkets from your teen and college years. It’s nearly an hour later that you make it to the bottom, where you find one last treasure. It’s a shoebox, though as you lift it, you’re not sure what it contains. It’s only when you bring it closer to you that you can read the words on the lid.

Javier - Mi Corazón

You stare at those three words for what feels like a lifetime. They’re written in your elegant handwriting with a thick black marker. You lightly trace the flourished “J” of his name with your finger. You remember the day you put it all together, and you know already a bit of what you’ll find when you open the box.

Your breath hitches in your throat, and at your silence your mother leans closer. She frowns when she too reads what’s on the box. “Give that here, love. I’ll put it away. I’m sorry. I forgot I packed it away in here with everything else,” she says quickly, her tone soft and sorrowful. But you only tighten your hold on the box as she tries to take it from you.

“No,” you tell her, “I want to look at it.” Logically, you know that you’ll only cause yourself more pain by looking through the memories of what your life used to look like with Javier, but you can’t stop yourself. You’ve spent ten years keeping any memory of him locked away. And now that he’s back, there’s nothing you can do to stop the flood as that once young, hopeful life comes rushing back to you.

“Well,” your mother sighs softly, “if you’re sure.” You can tell that she doesn’t like the idea. Since the day Javier left, she and your father have been a little more detached than you ever were. They’ve never blamed the Peñas or sought to shame them. But where you’ve only grown closer to the family, your parents have drifted apart.

You nod. “I am,” you murmur.

—

The shoebox feels much heavier than it truly is as you step into your apartment with it. After dropping your keys on the coffee table in the living room, you go straight back to your bedroom. You close the door behind you, though you know that there won’t be anyone to walk in on you as you willingly subject yourself to more pain.

You gingerly place the box on your desk, staring at it for a few moments as you second guess yourself. It would be so much easier to tuck it somewhere deep into your closet where you won’t find it again, not unless you really want to. You could bury those memories, ones that should be sweet but have been soured by time and circumstance. You could bury your love. You could bury the painful reminders of the man you would have followed to the ends of the earth.

You sit down in the chair and make your choice.

You open the box.

A soft gasp escapes your lips as you look inside, and immediately you feel your chest swell with an emotion that sits somewhere between nostalgia and regret. You can’t place it exactly. Taking a deep breath, you gently lift the first thing from the box. Dried petals crinkle between your fingers as you hold up your corsage from senior prom.

Your mother laughs softly as she walks over to you and Javier. He’s tried his best, but he just can’t get the ribbon tied around your wrist the right way. You giggle as your mother gently takes over, though as she ties the ribbon, your eyes never stray from Javi’s. You can see a light blush creeping up his neck, and you shake your head minutely. “It’s alright,” you mouth to him.

When your mother finally steps away, Javi takes your hand again, pulling you closer to him so that more pictures can be taken. You both hate the fussing, but know that it’s better to just endure it for the sake of your parents. Your mothers, especially, are excited to see the two of you off to the dance.

“Alright. Alright. That’s enough pestering the two of them. Let them go and enjoy their night,” Chucho finally says, and you let out a soft laugh. You can always trust him to come to the rescue.

“Thanks, Pops,” you say. Javier releases you then, giving you a moment to say a quick goodbye to your parents. Once you’ve given your mother a hug and your father a quick kiss on the cheek, you wave to Javi’s parents, then take his hand again. He leads you over to his father’s truck, which he’d so graciously agreed to let you borrow for the night.

Javi walks over to the passenger side with you, helping you up into the cab and making sure that your dress doesn’t get caught as the door is shut. He joins you inside of the truck shortly after, and you move a little closer to him on the bench seat.

“Sorry I couldn’t get the stupid corsage on,” he says, chuckling softly at himself. He lifts your arm, looking at the ribbon that your mother tied and shaking his head.  After a moment though, his eyes meet yours again, his gaze soft. Without breaking eye contact, he brings your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “You look beautiful tonight, querida,” he murmurs shyly.

You smile softly at him, reaching out to straighten his bow tie. “You’re looking pretty dashing yourself, Javi,” you reply.

He rolls his eyes. “I’m glad you think so. I think this looks ridiculous. There’s a reason I don’t dress like this unless I have to,” he says, though he’s grinning as he speaks.

You press a quick kiss to his lips. “It’s just one night,” you tell him, “Now let’s go before we’re late.”

You let out a soft breath as you think about the rest of that night. The two of you hadn’t spent very long at the dance at all, opting instead to jump back into Chucho’s truck and drive somewhere more quiet. Rather than trying to enjoy yourselves in a dark, sweaty gymnasium filled with your classmates, Javier had driven to the top of a hill not far outside of town. With a perfect view of the softly illuminated town below you, the two of you slow danced for hours to one of the cassette tapes you’d found in the glovebox.

With a mirthless laugh, you wonder if the cassette tape is still there.

Setting the corsage aside, you look back into the box, pulling out a stolen menu from the diner just a couple of blocks from your childhood home. It was a place that you and Javier had frequented, especially during the late hours of the night when you didn’t have anything better to do than drink cheap milkshakes and steal french fries from each other’s plates.

You curse under your breath as Javier foils your plans again, scribbling a quick “X” into the top right corner of the grid, keeping you from winning what was easily the eighth game of tic-tac-toe you’d played in the last twenty minutes. “Damn you, Javi,” you say, tossing the pencil at him, though there’s a grin on your lips as you look across the booth at him.

“Lo siento, querida. But you know you’re not allowed to win,” he replies, catching the pencil against his chest and placing it back on the table. His smile is bright as ever as his eyes meet yours again.

You roll your eyes, picking up the pencil and pulling the menu closer to you. You write out a short note on it, then turn it around so Javi can read it.

You’re a pain in the ass, but I still love you.

Javi lets out a soft laugh, reaching over and taking the pencil from you. He writes something underneath your words, but shields it from your view with his forearm. Only when he’s done does he let you see.

The feeling is mutual, querida. There’s a little heart doodled next to it.

Your expression softens, and you feel your heart swell in your chest. You place both hands on the table, using them to brace yourself as you lean over the table. There’s a knowing look in Javi’s eyes, and he does the same, meeting you in the middle for a tender kiss. “Te quiero tanto, mi corazón,” he murmurs against your lips.

You close your eyes, leaning back further in the chair with the menu held firmly against your chest, close to your heart. A few moments pass where you don’t move, giving yourself some time to compose yourself before you keep going. That hadn’t been the first time he’d called you “mi corazón,” but to hear those words fall from his lips had always caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach. That’s why the same words had been scribed next to his name. He was your heart, too.

Shaking your head to yourself, you sit up again. The next thing you pull out is a dozen or so Polaroid pictures, all with varying dates and locations penned on the back. Most of them had been taken by your mother. She’d always insisted on taking pictures of the two of you whenever she could, and it only got worse after you’d gotten engaged. She’d told you that one day you’d be grateful that so many of these moments were documented. You’d believed her then, though now there’s a part of you that wishes there weren’t so many pictures to remind you of just how deeply integrated into your life that Javier had once been.

There’s one photo, however, that catches your eye as you flip through the small stack. Unlike the others, which are more staged, this one is candid. You’re standing in Javier’s dorm room at Texas A&I, and you immediately recognize it as the day that you and your mother had gone to help him move in. Though really, she’d only gone because you didn’t trust yourself to be able to drive back to Laredo on your own. You would only be a couple of hours away from Javier once you moved into your own dorm in San Antonio, but two hours seemed like days when you’d grown up right down the road from him.

“That’s the last box,” Chucho declares, folding down the cardboard to make it easier to dispose of. You take in a deep breath as it hits you. You’re about to go back home without Javier. You’d already spent the last few nights alone with him, saying your more official goodbyes, but they hadn’t felt real. Now you’re really leaving him.

You feel Javi snake his arms around your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, and the gentle contact causes tears to spring into your eyes. You hold on tightly to his arms, not wanting to let him go.

Then there’s a flash, and you look up to see your mother with the camera pointed at the two of you, the photo sliding out the bottom just a moment later. You shake your head at her. “Mama, please,” you chastise her, to which she shrugs, but smiles apologetically. You know she doesn’t mean any harm.

“We’ll give you two a few minutes,” Javier’s mother says. Alicia then takes her husband’s hand, and the two of them file out the door with your mother close behind them.

Javi chuckles lowly, pressing a kiss to the juncture of your neck and your shoulder now that the two of you aren’t being so closely watched. “You’re gonna be alright,” he whispers.

“I should have just applied here,” you murmur, frowning deeper. As an English major, you could have chosen to go to school just about anywhere.

“No. You liked visiting San Antonio. You’ll have fun there. I promise,” he tries to convince you. “And we’ll both be home for holidays and spring break,” he pauses to kiss your temple, “though I think a spring break trip with just the two of us sounds like a good time.”

You grin at the idea. “That would be nice,” you reply softly.

Javi loosens his grip on you, but only enough to turn you so that you face him. He brushes a few strands of hair from your face, tucking them back behind your ear. As your eyes meet his, they fill with tears, and there’s nothing you can do to stop them as they begin to slide down your cheeks.

“Don’t cry, querida. Please,” he whispers, cradling the back of your head as you bury your face in his chest. For his sake, you take a few deep breaths, pulling yourself back together.

Once your tears are mostly dry, you look up at him again. “Alright. Alright. I’m done,” you say, cracking the slightest smile.

Javi smiles back down at you, leaning in for another kiss. He stops just before his lips can capture yours. “It doesn’t matter how far away we are. It doesn’t change anything,” he murmurs.

“I love you, Javi,” you whisper, taking his face gently in your hands and closing the remaining distance between the two of you.

“I love you too, mi corazón.”

A single tear escapes you as you relive the tender moment, though you quickly wipe it away with the sleeve of your shirt. For just a moment, you think about shutting the box and leaving it alone–at least for the night. But you’ve already gotten yourself sucked in the current. The only thing you can do now is ride it out.

You continue looking through all the old memories, reliving the moments almost as vividly as the day they happened. There’s a keychain from the spring break trip that you and Javier did actually take. You find a cheesy birthday card, the cork from the bottle of wine he’d brought you the night he proposed. There’s even a couple of letters that he’d written to you during those college years filled with lofty promises about what your lives would look like once you graduated and got your careers started.

It’s as you read the letters that your emotions get the better of you, and your single tear gives way to a wave. More than once he’d described the day that the two of you would finally be married, and it tears you apart to know that he’d painted that picture so vividly in your mind, only to be the one to so cruelly destroy it at the last moment.

Just as you think you’ve made it to the end of memory lane, you find two more things left in the box, buried at the bottom. The first is a piece of cardstock. Time has yellowed the original white color, and when you turn it over, you feel your heart drop to your stomach.

It’s your wedding invitation.

They were a formality that your grandmother had insisted on, even though you and Javier had both agreed that it wasn’t necessary. The wedding was supposed to be a smaller, family affair, much in the way that Danny’s had been. There were a lot of the traditional details that you just hadn’t been worried about. The ceremony wasn’t your priority. It was being able to call Javier your husband that mattered the most. As long as you were able to say “I do” with Javier, you’d be the happiest woman in the world.

The last thing in the box is a small drawstring pouch. You can hear something metallic jingling inside. You pull the drawstring open and shake the contents into your waiting palm. Immediately, your fist closes around the three rings: your engagement ring, and the wedding bands meant for you and Javier.

A choked sob forces itself from your lips, and you hold your closed fist close to your chest, right over your heart. You don’t know why they were in the box or who put them there. You haven’t even seen the wedding bands since they were handed over for safekeeping before the wedding.

However, your last memory of your engagement ring is all too vivid.

You stand in the back room of the church, your mother standing with you. You’re both waiting for Chucho to tell you that Javier is ready, and that it’s time for you to walk down the aisle. Anxiety has taken up residence in your chest, and while you try to convince yourself that it’s only wedding jitters, you can’t help but feel like there’s something very wrong.

“Mama, what time is it?,” you ask quietly. It’s the only way you can keep your voice from shaking. It feels like there’s barbed wire wrapped around your throat. Speak any louder and you know you’ll be fighting off panicked tears.

She looks at the watch on her wrist, sighing softly. “It’s a quarter after three, honey,” she admits. The wedding was supposed to start at three. “Let me go see what’s going on, sweetheart. I’m sure it’s nothing. Probably just a lost boutonnière or a button that needs sewn back on. Take a deep breath. You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she tells you. You nod, taking a set on one of the benches.

As you wait, you start twisting your engagement ring around on your finger. It’s been a nervous tic since the day Javi put it on your finger, and even as the edges of the metal rub your skin raw, you can’t bring yourself to stop. Even as you try to breathe deeply, nothing helps assuage the panic that you feel. Surely someone would have given a warning if it were a simple issue. Surely they wouldn’t leave you so worried for something so trivial.

The passage of time is lost on you. There’s no clock in the room and in your panic, you can’t be sure how long your mother has been gone. But when you hear the knob on the door turn, you’re immediately on your feet, nearly tripping over your dress as you move across the room to whoever is coming in.

Tears blur your vision when you see the somber look on Chucho’s face, his eyes tinged red with tears of his own.

“What happened? Where is he?,” you ask desperately. Without waiting for an answer, you try to make your way past the older man, set on going to the other dressing room yourself to find Javier. But Chucho wraps his arms around you, preventing you from moving any farther.

He shakes his head. “He’s gone, mijita. I’m sorry.”

And just like that, your whole world comes crashing down on top of you. Burying you and the life you’d wanted to live so fiercely.

The first sob that claws its way from your throat sounds more like a scream, and you bury your face in Chucho’s shoulder, letting him take most of your weight as you all but collapse in his arms. “Where is he?,” you beg, “Pops, where did he go?”

Chucho is quiet, his voice thick with emotion as he speaks. “I don’t know, mijita. He left without telling anyone. No one saw where he went,” he tells you. He sniffs softly, tightening his hold on you.

“Why?,” you whimper, raising your head just enough to look Chucho in the eye. But seeing the look on his face only makes your chest throb. Your breaths come in sharp gasps as you wait for an answer, though you know that he doesn’t have one.

He just shakes his head.

“God, what did I do? What did I do,” you weep, your fists curling tightly around the edges of his suit jacket, and you bury your face in the crook of his neck. You can just barely hear him trying to shush you, to soothe you in any way that he can. You’re shaking violently with every cry that escapes you, and though you know you’re breaking Chucho’s heart, you can’t bring yourself to stop. You’ve never felt grief like this, so forceful and agonizing and real. You feel like you’ve been pulled underwater and your lungs are burning for air that they’ll never get. You know that they won’t

Javier was the air you breathed, and now he’s gone, leaving you to suffocate alone. 

You sit there at your desk, unending waves of tears streaming down your cheeks. You’re not in the same fit of hysterics that you were on that day, but you still feel the same anguish, the same throbbing in your chest. It burns, a reminder that you haven’t truly lived or breathed since the day Javier left. Slowly, you uncurl your fingers from around the rings, wincing at the indentations in your palm from where you’d held them so tightly. You drop them onto your desk, not at all bothering with the pouch you’d found them in.

You stand from the chair, forcing your tears away as you stalk out of your room and towards the front door. You grab your jacket and your car keys, and then you’re gone.

There’s only one way to drown out the pain you feel.

—

Towards the edge of town, out past the railroad tracks, there’s a run down bar that Javier used to frequent when he was younger, before he took off for Columbia. As he pulls into the crowded parking lot, he’s not surprised to see that the building hasn’t changed a bit. The paint is still worn. The roof still needs patched, and even the busted window hasn’t been replaced, just patched over with plywood boards.

Before he even gets out of his dad’s truck, he can hear the roaring conversations of people trying to be heard over the rest of the background noise. He sighs, running his hand over his face before he gets out. This isn’t the most ideal situation. Javier would much prefer to be drinking in the comfort of his own home, but he knows that his father is getting suspicious about the amount of alcohol he’s been consuming for the past couple of weeks. He can deal with the noise for a few hours if it means he doesn’t have to sit through another one of Chucho’s heart-to-heart talks. There have been a few too many since he came back from Colombia.

He just hopes that no one bothers him. The last thing he needs is to have all of Laredo down his throat asking him about Colombia. He never wanted to be a hero. He doesn’t think of himself that way. How can he? After everything he’s done, all of the destruction he’s caused, how could he ever be considered a hero? If only they knew what kind of man Colombia had turned him into.

Javier opens the door, stepping out of the cab. He shuts and locks the door before walking into the bar. It’s hard to see through the thick haze of smoke that fills the room, and it doesn't help that the only dim lighting comes from the television and the neon lights on the walls. All that matters to him right now though, is that he’s able to drown out the echo of his father’s words in his head.

If it’s even possible, Javier’s sleeping habits have worsened. Where he once dreamed of the hurt in your eyes when he’d seen you in the market, he now only sees you being held in his father’s arms the moment you learned he’d run off. He can’t shake the haunted look in his father’s eyes as he’d finally revealed the details of that day. And all Javier feels is guilt. He’s being crushed under the weight of knowing just how deeply he’d hurt you.

He doesn’t even want to explain himself anymore. He knows that nothing he says will ever rid you of the scars he’s left on your heart. It’s something that he’ll never forgive himself for.

Javier takes a seat at the bar, and he’s surprised that there’s even a seat open, given just how crowded the room is. He remembers though, even when he was younger, the bar never really seemed to hit any sort of capacity. People kept coming, and somehow it all worked out. Like somehow the finite space of the building became infinite when lonely, broken people came seeking refuge.

Thankfully, there’s a glass of whiskey in front of him just moments later. Javier takes a sip of the dark amber liquid, closing his eyes as he feels the warm burn down his throat and into his chest. He’s glad to feel something there that isn’t the suffocating sense of grief and guilt he’s felt since the night of Danny’s wedding.

But he knows his father was right. About all of it. Even if he doesn’t want it to be true, Javier knows that he’s screwed up, and that he’s running back to Colombia just so he doesn’t have to face it. But it would be so much easier to just go back to work, back to dismantling cartels and incarcerating drug lords. He could bury himself in his work, in booze, in women.

Women that are not you.

And as he drains the first glass of whiskey and starts on the second, Javier realizes that there’s one more thing his father was right about: he’s not the man that he used to be.

He closes his eyes again, thinking about the simple way that life used to be before he took off. Before Escobar, everything was linear. He met you, fell in love with you, planned to marry you. You’d both gone to school and started your careers, ones that would take you far away from Laredo if that was what you’d wanted.

And God, did he want that. It was one thing that he had always talked about with you. You’d both grown up feeling caged in by the small-town atmosphere. College had been the most freeing experience. The feeling of independence and anonymity was so intoxicating that neither of you could get enough of it. You’d been so on board with his idea of escaping Laredo, no matter where the two of you ended up. “I’ll follow you anywhere, Javi,” you’d told him once.

You would have. He knows that beyond any doubt in his mind. Even to Colombia.

He opens his eyes again, discovering that his glass is empty again. His eyes search the room for the bartender, but something else catches his attention. Through the haze of smoke and sea of moving bodies, it’s hard for him to know for sure, but as he looks a little longer, he finds that he does indeed see what he thinks he sees.

You’re sitting at a small table in the back of the bar, nursing a glass of something he can’t quite make out in the inadequate lighting. But then you stop, like you can sense his eyes on you. You turn, your head toward the bar, your gaze moving slowly as you try to find the source of your unease.

Your eyes lock onto his, and in the low neon lights he can see that they’re glistening with unshed tears.

Javier feels his heart leap into his throat, and he watches as your entire body tenses. He drops his gaze, looking back down at the empty glass in front of him. Immediately his father’s words come back to him. He’s done seeking you out and forcing you into conversations that you don’t want to have.

But he looks up again when he sees quick, unsteady movement in your general direction. Javier doesn’t know how much you’ve had to drink, but one look at you as you walk to pay your tab tells him that you’re in no shape to drive yourself home. He stays still, waiting to see what the bartender does. If he’s any good at his job, he’ll make sure that you don’t walk out of the bar without a safe way to get home.

You walk away without a word from the bartender. And though there are plenty of other people around you, none of them seem to feel the need to stop you either.

“Fuck,” Javier mutters, knowing that he has to do something.

After slapping a few bills onto the counter, he stands from his barstool, nearly knocking it over with the force of his rapid movement. He then follows you out of the bar, calling out your name before you can reach your car. You stop, frozen in your tracks.

“What do you want, Javier? Haven’t you figured it out yet? I want nothing to do with you!,” you shout back at him, turning on your heels to face him. Your eyes are dark with anger, and he knows immediately that this isn’t going to go as smoothly as he might have dared to hope.

Javier takes a tentative step in your direction, swallowing thickly. He holds his palms up in mock surrender. “You’re not driving yourself home. I’m just making sure you get there safely. That’s all,” he tells you. You straighten up then, and he can practically see the gears turning in your head as you study him closely. In your anger, he can see that you’ve sobered up considerably, but he’s still not taking any chances, not with your well being and quite possibly your life.

You scoff, shaking your head. “Fuck off, Javier. I’m fine. I live right down the road,” you spit back.

“No. I’m not gonna fuck off. I don’t care if it means I have to call your mom myself. You’re not driving home,” he insists.

You take a step closer to him. “Why do you even care, hmm? You didn’t give a shit about what happened to me for ten fucking years, and now all of a sudden you wanna play the good guy who’s just looking out for me? Well that’s bullshit, Peña,” you bite.

“I–”

“No. Actually, you wanna talk about what happened so badly? Let’s do it. Right here,” you start. And even from a distance he can see you trembling. Whether it’s from the cool night air or the heat of your fury, he can’t tell for sure.

“We’re not doing this while you’re drunk,” he states firmly, crossing his arms over his chest.

You take another step forward. You’re only about ten feet from him now. “Oh no. Everything I think about you is crystal clear in my mind, Javier Peña,” you shoot back.

He takes a deep breath, knowing that there’s no escape from whatever you’re about to lay on him. But he knows that he deserves to hear every horrible thing you’ve thought about him in the last ten years. And even then, it won’t compare to what he’s done to you.

“What did I ever do to you?,” you shout at him. “What did I do to make you leave me like that? Didn’t you ever think that maybe I deserved an explanation? And I mean before you left, not ten years after the fact.” Javier stands there in silence, and he just hopes that the people inside the bar can’t hear you over the music and the chatter and the television. The last thing he needs is for this to turn into a spectacle.

“I didn’t know what to tell you,” he admits. It’s not enough.

“You left me without a word, Javier. No warning. Nothing. If it weren’t for your dad, I wouldn’t have ever known what happened to you. For so long I have tried to figure out what happened. Tried to figure out what I did,” you stop for a moment as your voice finally breaks. Javier feels a pang in his chest as your eyes well up with tears. He wonders how many you’ve shed because of him. How much pain will he cause you before this is all over?

“I loved you, Javi. I thought you loved me too, but–”

“I do love you, querida.” He says the words before he can stop himself. He can take your verbal lashing. He can listen to you tell him about all the terrible things he’s done and the consequences of those actions. But he can’t take this. Never this. Even if it makes sense for you to think he doesn’t love you, that he ever stopped, it’s not true.

“Don’t call me that,” is your only response to his words. “You don’t get to fucking call me that anymore. Because you let me believe that we were gonna spend the rest of our lives together. Our story was gonna be the one that I could tell, and then you were just gone,” you weep.

Javier takes a couple of tentative steps forward, so that you’re just within his reach. He wants nothing more than to be able to take you into his arms, to hold you close and comfort you the way that he used to. Every fiber of his being vibrates with the need to wipe your tears away and stay with you until you smile again. But he can’t. The only thing he can do is stand there and watch as you break right in front of him. He’s absolutely helpless.

“You were the love of my life. I gave you everything. I would have followed you anywhere, Javi. But you left me here,” you tell him, your breath coming in short gasps now.

He sighs softly. “I know. I’m so sorry,” he breathes.

You look up into his eyes with a new resolve, despite the effort you’ve already expended. “I hate you,” you declare resolutely.

Javier nods. “You should. That’s the least I deserve for what I’ve done,” he replies, and though his exterior appears unshaken by your words, his heart is breaking in his chest. To hear you say the words makes it all too real.

“I hate you,” you say again, a new wave of tears overtaking you. And then you close the remaining gap between the two of you, shoving at his chest as hard as you can, though in your current state it’s not enough to really move him. “I hate you, Javier,” you repeat, stumbling into him. He doesn’t hesitate to catch you, keeping you upright as your legs give out from under you.

And you keep repeating it, sobbing the words into his collarbone. Every declaration is punctuated by a weakly thrown punch to his chest and torso. He lets you. A sick, twisted part of him wishes that you had the strength to hurt him that way.

“I hate you,” you wail one last time, “but I don’t know how to love anyone else…”

Your hands fall uselessly to his shoulders, gripping onto the lapel of his leather jacket as you continue to cry into his chest. Something inside of Javier breaks as he feels you trembling in his arms. He can feel every bit of the pain that radiates from your body. It brings tears to his eyes and cuts off his breathing. He’s never felt agony this way, not even in Colombia.

Suddenly, Javier understands what his father felt like the day he left.

—

Javier carries you from the truck into your apartment, using the keys he found in your jacket pocket. You’re sleeping restlessly in his arms, soft choked cries escaping you every few minutes, but he’s just glad that he was able to get you home.

He wanders down the hall with you, finding the bedroom relatively easily given the small size of your apartment. He then lays you gently on your bed, frowning at the way your brows are knit together, deep worry lines marring your forehead. Javier has to resist the urge to smooth them out with his thumb. He knows better than to touch you right now, when you’re far less than aware of what’s going on.

Instead, he takes a seat next to you, making quick work of removing your shoes and your socks. He’ll leave you to sleep in your clothes, not wanting to wake you. Sighing, he pushes himself up, feeling exhaustion settling in on his shoulders. It’s been a long night even without considering his inability to sleep.

But as he stands, you stir, one hand blindly reaching at him. Javier looks to see that your eyes are just barely open as you finally manage to wrap your fingers loosely around his wrist.

“Don’t leave me, Javi. Please. Not again,” you whimper.

He knows that you don’t mean it, that they’re just words fueled by alcohol and exhaustion. But the plea still hits him square in the chest. If only he knew you wouldn’t want different when you woke up in the morning, he’d stay right next to you for the rest of the night.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers. If you hear it, he can’t tell. Your eyes are closed again, your hand slowly slipping away from him.

Javier turns to leave, but as he moves to turn off your desk light, he sees the various things spread out on the wood surface. His chest constricts as he realizes what it is and where it came from. All of these memories of what your lives looked like before stare back at him. He lets out a shaky breath, hardly able to believe that you still have the keepsakes.

He gathers it all back up, placing it gently back in the box, and he carries it with him out to the living room, where he too can take the painful trip down memory lane. Javier sits heavily on your couch, placing the box on the coffee table and beginning to reminisce.

By the time he’s done, he understands why you’d ended up at the bar. If he weren’t so exhausted, he’d need another drink too.

As the clock on your wall gently chimes at three in the morning, Javier lays his head down on the arm of your couch. He aches so badly for sleep, that he can’t help but pass out right there.

It’s restless, but sleep nonetheless

—

You wake with a start as the first rays of light filter their way through your bedroom curtains. You look down at yourself, finding that you’re still in your clothes from the previous night. But you don’t know how you got home from the bar. You don’t know how you made it to your bed. You don’t know how your socks and shoes managed to lie neatly on the floor next to you. All you remember is–

Javi.

You stumble out of your bed, moving as fast as your aching, fatigued body can manage even though it makes your head throb. When you make it to the living room, the first place you look is the couch. He never liked leaving you alone on the nights you got drunk.

But he’s not there.

The only sign that Javier has been in the living room is the mess on the coffee table. He’d found the box on your desk. He’d gone through it and relived the same memories you had. You sink down on the couch, resting your elbows on your knees and pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes. Your words come flooding back to you and you let out a shaky sigh. You don’t know where to go from here.

You sit up straight again, noting the early hour, and decide to just crash on the couch for a few more hours. As you settle yourself onto the cushions, you feel something hard press into your back. You reach behind you, your fingers wrapping around the offending object. A groan escapes you as you bring your hand back into your eyeshot.

Javi’s aviators.

You place them on the table. You don’t have the strength to consider the idea of taking them back to him just yet. Instead, you close your eyes, letting the pull of exhaustion put you back under.

The last thing you’re consciously aware of before you fall asleep again is the faint scent of Javier’s cologne under your nose. A soft smile graces your lips, and in your sleep your burrow further into the cushion.

-

Spanish Translations

Mi Corazón - My Heart (Nickname)

“Lo siento, querida.” - “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“Te quiero tanto, mi corazón.” - “I love you, my heart.”

Mijita - My Daughter (Nickname)

-

Chapter Four

-

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[troublesometrollhunters]

Yooo let me contribute my thoughts to Yan!Momgana

The gumm-gumms all revere you as her child, you're the only person in the world who could ask them to dress in a pink frilly dress and play house with you and they'd agree

Starts as begrudging compliance, but as time goes on you start to grow on them

"Ah, yes. Precious child, our child. The Pale Lady's offspring will be indulged in their games, and no, don't you dare say no to the tiny whelp, you might make the whelp sad!!1!1"

Morgana is happy with the outcome, but that doesn't mean she let's you play with the goblins any longer than she's gone doing evil war stuff. When mom arrives it's shoo shoo, give momma her precious baby they're gonna play peek-a-boo now.

Because you were an infant when Morgana left the castle and joined the gumm-gumms, you have little to no knowledge of human world nor have you interacted with any. All your manners come from your momma, who raises you pretty good and proper.

You probably will grow some of your childhood in the surface world, but only in fortresses and gumm-gumm territories they've captured.

You know nothing about the war, but you've probably been revealed the truth a few times when a random human has managed to sneak in and mistaken you for a prisoner and tried to take you with.

It would probably go pretty easy for the intruder, you won't have a normal sense of stranger danger when literally everyone around you have been real nice to you all your life, so you'd probably just go along with whatever, thinking it's a game or just being confused as to why the weird pale troll is so anxious.

These incidents end really quick, because when Morgana finds out her precious child is gone she absolutely decimates everything within a 5 mile radius.

The intruder always dies an agonizing and slow death.

Morgana is too enraged to think about what her child sees in those moments. And you probably will see everything.

It doesn't matter though, Morgana's got it.

"Oh no, sweetheart, don't cry. Here, let mom make it all go away..."

The memories of any violence or pesky humans are wiped and you go back to the carefree and happy life in some stolen palace.

You probably grow close with your mother and are very attached to her as a child. How could you not? She always plays with you when you ask, she almost never says no to you, she gives you all the treats and toys you ask and she never gets mad (or that's what you think).

You're spoiled and you don't even know it, and it's not like anyone would point that out to you or Morgana.

But then the Killahead fiasco happens...

I stand by that Morgana and the gumm-gumms had operated in the Darklands prior, since it's stated to be the trolls' original homeland.

The time you hadn't spent in the surfacelands, you had spent in the Darklands.

Morgana probably had a real nice castle built there just for your and hers sake, so you could have a place to be 100% safe from all those traitorous trolls and humans. They never came to the Darklands voluntarily.

You've spent a good portion of your childhood there, so you probably don't see the place as anything bad. It's just another nice home where you, your mother and her subjects live and play all day and night.

The big fight and the portal thing happens and suddenly big Gunmar is here.

(Gunmar and Bular are totally your self appointed godfathers, at least)

You go and run to meet him, asking him to play with you, but Gunmar seems really unwell. Is he okay?

Gunmar takes some time to fully process the turn of events, and what he has to do now.

You're told more than you ever before about any conflict in the world right then and there. That Gunmar and the other trolls are trapped in the Darklands now.

Of course Gunmar knows better than to tell you of the war, that'd be way too hard on your innocent, pure whelp mind! So you get something along the lines of this:

You're told that bad monsters trapped you here, but Bular and your mother are outside and coming to free you very, very soon. 

He paints your mother in a very heroic light, and you drink it up because as if a child like you would think of your mother as anything else than a hero.

Gunmar now has his trolls and court take care of you, keeping you entertained and trying to keep as many things as the same as they were before for you. You probably will have to deal with worse food though.

This means you living the majority of your unnaturally long life in the Darklands.

Now that your mom's gone, you'll enter a rebellious stage sooner or later. You don't really take what rules the gumm-gumms give you seriously since they're not your mom!

You'll live with uncharacteristically much freedom for a yan!parent's kid, or any kid for that matter.

Gunmar of course cares about you, but is by no means a yandere or good at raising human whelps, so he kinda leaves you to your own devices and let's you do whatever. He doesn't really give you any rules or whatever.

It's the servants who are responsible of your raising and if you get hurt.

You'll probably start to manifest magic in your time down there, making you even harder to contain.

In other words, you're living your best life, causing chaos, playing around with nobody to discipline you and even if you get caught messing around you'd be able to point a finger at any of your servants and Gunmar wouldn't doubt you for a second.

Now then, you've lived the majority of your life with the gumm-gumm's, you have like no experience of people being mean or other's taking advantage of you, and the little human mannerisms and morals you have came from your mother in a distant childhood.

= an innocent but very immoral teen, who probably doesn't  act their age and has very weird logic and mannerisms.

I'd imagine you'd think disemboweling some creature because you were curious of what was inside was totally fine because you've done that with the worm-monster-things in the Darklands and the gumm-gumms didn't bat an eye.

The little interaction you've had with the "Surfacelands" has probably been the little trinkets and weird trivia by the changelings or goblins who've been able to traverse through the small gates.

For the longest time you probably didn't even care about the surfacelands, since you've got everything you'd ever want here ('cept your beloved mom...), but kids tend to get more curious and adventurous when they grow up to their teens.

And then some additional things about the changelings! They're probably a bit concerned with how you've grown, being the only ones who understand what is "normal" for a human your (mental) age, but won't be able to bring themselves to tell you to stop or inform you about right and wrong, lest they want Gunmar to rip their heads off for making you upset.

On top of that, being nearly direct creations of Morgana, I think they'd hold you on an even higher pedestal than the other gumm-gumms. We've seen the Janus order treat Morgana like a goddess at times, perhaps their view of you would be something akin to a messiah or something similar.

In conclusion, once again, like with everything else in your life, you're being kept in the dark about it.

Then bam-bam-Baam! The trollhunter has entered the arena!

You start finding the most delicious brown sticks wrapped in silly crinkly paper around the Darklands and collecting them.

Then one day you're running around the castle from your servants and notice a weird changeling in the dungeon!

He's acting all weird and panicky and doesn't seem to recognize you, and on top of that all he's still in a human form. You introduce yourself merrily and scurry off in search of something else to do, maybe to find more funny crinkly paper with super tasty sticks inside!

Meanwhile Jim is had a slight heart attack, because first of all, he saw a human in the Darklands and his first thought was that they had fell into the Darklands and were in great danger. They seem fine though, even pretty cheery for someone in such a place, introduced themselves and ran off before Jim has any time to tell them to help him out.

Then Nomura goes and casually tells him that's MORGANA'S FREAKING CHILD.

Meanwhile you go to ask uncle Gunmar why there's a funny changeling who's looking like a human

Gunmar almost does a spit-take and tells you not to go there anymore. He's an monstrous criminal and your mom wouldn't want you associating with such trash

Hah, referencing your mom, works every time. One more point for Gunmar and his masterful parenting skills... 'CEPT NOT THIS TIME.

Your no longer a kid who would just accept that as an answer and forget about it. No, you're an old kid, you're a teen and you know what Gunmar actually meant...

Clearly, this was one of the traitors against your valiant awesome hero mom and Gunmar just wanted to keep you safe.

But no fear! You're old now, and with your magic you can hold your own against some puny traitor weirdo! And so you go and sneak immediately after that to the weird changeling's cage

Jim is confused by you more than anything. You think your mom is the good guy? And he's evil??? Jim takes time to talk and explain things to you the best he can, and from what he can gather he's succeeding in lowering your defenses, even if by a little

You don't have much experience with lies, but you're sure he's tricking you. All your life is built up on idolizing your mother and she has never done anything bad to you or anyone before you.

But on the other hand, he doesn't seem mean at all. He seems really nice, even if he is weird. Maybe he's been tricked.

Eventually you come to the conclusion that this changeling is alright, only brainwashed. But then he says something about being able to go to the Surfacelands and your interest is immediately peaked. Your mom is there! If you manage to play your cards right you'll be able to free him from his tyrant overlords, meet your mom again and be a totally awesome mom-kid duo with supercool magic powers and save the world!

When Jim escapes you end up coming with on accident, teleporting into the gyre because you thought it looked fun right before they go through the portal.

I have a feeling that the surface trolls don't recognize you, you're existence was probably kept secret by Morgana, and are panicked when an additional "halfling" crashes outside.

Jim calms them down and you're immediately enraptured by what you see. The ceiling is suuuper high and has like, a million diamonds in it, and there are so many trees and colours and the floor is super soft. You can even hear singing from the grass.

Jim says you're Morgana's kid and if you hadn't been so invested in ripping grass off the roots you would've seen a total of five trollhunters nearly leaping to maul your ass

Jim and Nomura manage to stop them. Jim says that you clearly have no idea about what's going on, you don't know about any war and think your mother is well and alive and fighting to free the trollkind and vanquish evil. Nomura in turn says that if you get hurt all hell will break loose, the Janus order will definitely drop all subtlety and end the humans' families and friends before your body hits the ground, and the act of killing you will generally do no good.

You seem innocent enough, you're not doing anything bad, really. You're just looking at the trees.

"Hey, what's this?"

"That's a stag beetle- wait WHAT NO DON'T PUT IT IN YOUR MOUTH WHAT!?"

The group is uncertain of what to do with you. They could bring you to troll market but you'd probably either blurt out your mother's name and get killed, or try to attack the market because you think they're all evil.

They decide you need to be let in on the events slowly.

When Strickler sees you he has a near aneurism.

"WhY IS ThE chILD oF MOrgANa hERE?!?!"

They decide to let Nomura, Strickler and the humans to keep you with them and hidden from both Angor and the Janus order.

Turns out to be easier said than done, mostly because you keep teleporting around like it's nobody's business and are so blatantly clueless about how the human world works. Most of their stress is caused by having to keep an eye on you and stop you from casually stealing things or ripping some poor lady's hand off because you liked her rings.

You are mostly confused by it all, and why you can't do certain things, but don't mind it too much. The world feels really alien to you, even if it's pretty, and a part of you is happy that there's someone to guide you through it. But you're getting more and more frustrated with the lack of your mom, nobody believing that your mother is the righteous heroine in the story and that you're constantly told not to do this and that.

Despite all the effort, it doesn't take much time before the Janus order finds out about you.

We all know that Otto is a major bootlicker of Gunmar, but just you wait until he finds about you.

The second you're found out about all their resources are on bringing you to base.

Happens pretty smoothly after he explains that he's working for your mother. You join voluntarily and enthusiastically.

Otto practically worships the ground you walk on, and you bet your ass he has a huge room filled with anything he thinks you could possibly want made for you in 1 day sharp.

Gunmar is shocked to see you on the Surfaceworld, and makes it clear to Otto that if any harm comes to you or you get sad/mad he will bite Otto's head off.

Also, Morgana.

Morgana is absolutely panicking now that her baby's in the surfaceworld without her around. She's extremely happy to see you once more, to see you've grown up happy, but oh god she has to be there with you! She has to hold you, keep you safe!!!

She tries her damnest to contact you, to make you see she's here for you, but to no avail. Although you are cruel and selfish at times, it's not because of any darkness inside you, it's because you don't know any better. So she settles for the next best thing, she tells her changelings to keep you safe, inside and entertained and orders them to hurry with bringing her back. Everyone's working overtime now.

Meanwhile you're having fun again. Everything's like it's been before, you've got toys and playmates and everyone's doing their best to keep you happy, but...

You kind of miss the trollhunters... Your... Friends...

You haven't had a mutual and equal relationship for a long time, not to mention they taught and showed you so many incredible things... You kinda want to see them.

Morgana's ripping at her ghost-hair when you sneak out to meet with the trollhunters.

You're still adamant that they have no idea what they're talking about, but you're having so much fun with them.

You don't play in any team to say, you just kind of pester and get into shenanigans with the trollhunters when they're not fighting your own allies. If they are, you just shrug, say "Then stop being evil" and teleport away.

When the Heartstone saga happens you're watching mostly from the sidelines until someone says something along the lines "something something free Morgana."

The first time you actually fight is in that battle. You're a difficult opponent, teleporting around and being able to cast minor dark magic at your foes. 

It's not like you contributed much to the fight, your side won in the end either way.

This is the first time you actually see the trollmarket and its trolls. If it would've been you from before, you would've shown no mercy, partly because you didn't really grasp the concept of death and partly because they were traitors, but now... You know better about death and empathy, and you have at least a tiny bit of understanding that these trolls are just misled, not completely at fault or evil.

I think this also the first time Angor sees you. He's shocked for many reasons, 1. you've grown so much, look at you! Just like your mother! 2. You're in the surfacelands? He thought you were in the castle in the Darklands. 3. You're fighting so valiantly for your mother, he's so proud of you!

This all ends when Morgana breaks free.

It takes about 0.00001 seconds before she has you in her tight embrace. It's a really emotional moment for the both of you.

Uuuntil all the eternal night and all you shall die stuff.

You're standing beside your mother with the brightest smile on your face when she gives the speech. All the troops are here and now you can free the Darklands and go to the surface world and when all the bad trolls are defeated you can live in Arcadia with all the people you love and-

That smile falls like stone when Morgana attacks her own troops

You cling to her and ask her to stop. You don't understand, this isn't right!

Morgana in turn just smushes your face and coddles you, telling that it's fine.

You ask if she's gonna hurt the humans and she says she'll kill every single one of them.

You're very against this, but keep quiet and feel silently torn. You don't know what to think.

I feel like Angor seeing you so troubled played a tiny part in his betrayal too.

You notice very quickly how tight Morgana is holding your wrist and she doesn't let go. You ask her to let go of your hand and she refuses, looking at you with frantic eyes. For the first time, you feel like something is very wrong. She starts dragging you around with her, acting all cheery and gleeful with you here.

No, this isn't right... You don't want this...! This is all wrong!

You start struggling, you want your freedom back, you want to go be with your friends and everyone else!

Morgana recognizes this as a sign that she should probably wipe your mind again and takes away all memories of time she was gone.

Now you're back to normal, back to the bright-eyed little child who clung to her hand like always and Morgana's happy.

When Merlin and the others come to stop her, you're still with her and she tosses you to the side, away from the harm, and you dutifully stay in place like your mother asked.

Merlin, more out of spite than anything else, nullifies all of  the memory wipes Morgana had performed during your life and you're back to normal, now with the realization that your mother isn't all what she was cracked up to be.

(Now Angor has seen Morgana kill his comrades, had his soul stolen, witnessed Morgana traumatize, memory-wipe and employ some very dubious parenting tactics on you, so he really is at his wits end here)

Now they have one more mage against Morgana in the final battle, even if you're heartbroken and reluctant to face off against your own mother.

(Yes, this is my cheap excuse for saving Angor)

Morgana stares right at you as she is sealed to the shadow realm with such heartbreak.

Morgana's child, ripped away from her once more!

She's way too attached to you and waaay too far gone to think it's your fault for betraying her. No, it's Merlin's, it's the trollhunter's, ANGOR ROT'S!!

She's furious, she will have you back, she will SLAUGHTER everyone on that damned land to save you! You two will rule together like you were meant to, you would be happy in her wonderful world without traitors or humans, just the two of you! She'll save you from all those monsters, those delusions they put in your precious little head! If only you hadn't known, you shouldn't have known, you're still a child, too young to have to know the cruel world of grown-ups, if only they would've let her keep you in the dark and safe!!! She's in hysterics.

Meanwhile, you are too. You are absolutely heartbroken, soul-shattered. To you, you've just killed your own mother. No matter how cruel she was to others around you or how restricting she was to you, you loved her so much. Your gumm-gumm family's all gone, killed by the friends you sided with.

You have no idea what to do anymore.

Angor and you probably move together, him being the only one understanding how close you were with your mother and the fact that you feel truly alone now.

There is a minor outrage with the trolls when they hear about you and your heritage, but you are ultimately left alone due to the fact that you assisted in bringing Morgana to justice.

You're enrolled in Arcadia High, and although it starts rocky with your now estranged friends, you start to move on with everyone's help and support.

You're now an honorary trollhunter and in the process of getting to understand humankind and it's culture with just slightly less insane friends and family, and living the closest approximation to a normal human life possible.

Happy end! Jesus, this got long. Okay, I dub thee "Momgana's teen AU"

This could be an entire fic. Honestly I love this. Morgana is so well written and the Orders absolutely hilarious. I also love dad Gunmar and Gum Gums trying to reign in a magical teen lmao

Honestly remind me a lot of Dawn. Thankyou so much for this gift!!!!! 🎃 🎃 🎃

[lochrannn]

Warnings: Sexual Content (M Rating)

Characters: Lila Pitts; Diego Hargreeves; Allison Hargreeves; Klaus Hargreeves; Ben Hargreeves

Relationship: Lila Pitts/Diego Hargreeves

Roommates AU; Fake Marriage; Slow Burn; Mutual Pining; Emotional H/C

Chapter 8/9

-

They’ve planned to head out early in the morning, because they will have to drive for a couple of hours to get to the more scenic part of the coast that Diego’s never actually been to himself. So the evening before he stops by Ben’s to borrow his camera. To his annoyance Klaus is also there.

Diego loves Klaus and he’s usually glad to see him and always relieved to see him in a safe and relatively normal place. He hasn’t forgotten the years of crawling along the city’s streets in his car in the dead of night, looking for Klaus because nobody had heard from him in days, or picking him up from shady ass bars, high as a kite.

But Klaus, despite the fact that he seems a little spaced out half the time, has always had an unfailing read on him and Diego really doesn’t want to get into it with Klaus what his plans are for tomorrow and why he needs Ben’s camera. Dealing with his brother’s shenanigans at the wedding was bad enough.

“So you’re taking your fake wife on a fake honeymoon beach trip to take some romantic pictures and you have absolutely no ulterior motive, you say?” Klaus asks, sipping on a large mug filled with a very fragrant and spicy smelling tea in Ben’s living room.

Diego’s leaning against the windowsill, arms crossed defensively, while Ben is over by the dining table unpacking his camera equipment and trying to pare down the amount of stuff he’s going to send Diego out with and very pointedly trying to look like he’s not listening. “First off, Lila’s my actual wife, you were literally the witness, Klaus, and second of all, yeah, I have an ulterior motive, I want to help her convince immigration officials that we didn’t just get married so she could get a visa!”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, stop deflecting!” Klaus says in that mild tone of his that always puts Diego on edge.

“Why, what other ulterior motive could I have other than scamming the government?” Diego asks in irritation and then instantly regrets opening that door for Klaus. The slow grin that spreads across his brother’s face makes Diego regret a lot of choices in his life.

“I think you’re in love with your wife, you weirdo!” Klaus says, batting his eyelashes at him and Diego tries not to react, but then thinks that may be exactly the wrong choice, so a little too late he grimaces and says, “Don’t be silly!”

“Oh please, it was written all over your face at the wedding. And so much sexual tension between the two of you, maybe you should fuck and see whether that resolves it,” Klaus offers with a shrug.

“Yeah, no… that didn’t really work…” Diego breathes out and then instantly realizes the horrible mistake he made when both his brothers almost shout, “What?!” at the same time.

“Urgh, you slept with your wife, you pervert?” Klaus squeals in delight, almost falling over on the couch laughing at his own joke.

“She wasn’t my wife then…” Diego shoots back and he just doesn’t know how this keeps happening. Why is he arguing about this with Klaus? He really, really doesn’t want to talk about it, but Klaus just always manages to push his buttons.

“Oh, intriguing! Do tell!” his brother rights himself on the couch and looks at him with big curious eyes.

“Absolutely fucking not!” Diego says grumpily and crosses his arms again, trying to physically make himself shut the fuck up.

“But then what are you even doing, Diego?” Ben pipes up from the other side of the room and that is almost worse, Diego thinks, because Ben’s going to end up making a good point, “You’re clearly in love with each other, you’re having sex, you live together, you’re married, but for some reason you say you’re not actually together?”

“We had sex once, and Lila’s not in love with me!” Diego grumbles just for the sake of disagreeing with Ben.

“But you’re in love with Lila?” Ben asks at the same time as Klaus says, “Oh please, Lila is definitely in love with you! I thought she obviously wanted to bang you, but now I know she already got there that puts all the longing looks she gave you in a completely different light!”

Diego’s not inclined to simply believe his hyperbolic brother and suddenly talking about the whole thing stings in a peculiar way, so he tries to not pout when he stabs a finger at one brother at a time and says, “I’m not talking to you two about this!” Then, directed at Ben he asks, “Are you done with the damn camera? I don’t want to be here all night, should have just gotten a disposable one at the drugstore!”

To Diego’s relief, Ben holds out a small bag and he grabs it, says his very swift goodbyes, and leaves in a hurry.

-

They leave, as planned, in the early morning and at first Lila is grumpy and Diego starts doubting himself for suggesting the trip. He’d hoped that beyond getting some nice photos, he could offer Lila a bit of a reprieve from the stress of the past weeks, but once they’ve stopped off to get some coffee and donuts, to his relief, her mood markedly improves.

It’s stupid, but after what Klaus and Ben said to him, Diego can’t help watching her intently to see whether they might actually be right. But all he achieves is to get distracted from watching the road when he keeps looking over to see Lila, feet up on the dashboard, donut in one hand and take-away coffee in the other, singing loudly and badly along to the radio.

Despite the good forecast for the weather, the sun hasn’t managed to come out through the clouds yet, but, Diego thinks maybe a little overly poetically, he’d hardly notice with the way Lila seems to brighten up the inside of the car with her huge toothy grin as she looks over at him while still chewing on her donut.

“What? D’you not like my singing?” Lila asks him with a challenging sparkle in her eyes and Diego turns back to look at the road because he’s starting to worry that he might just be openly mooning over her.

“Why wouldn’t I like your singing, seeing as you’re so good at it?” he responds sarcastically.

“Fuck off!” Lila says, laughing lightly and punching him playfully in the arm with her donut hand, transferring a little of the powdered sugar onto his shirt.

“You’re in a good mood,” Diego points out. He doesn’t mind that, of course, in fact he’s endlessly relieved, but it does come as a bit of a surprise after the last few weeks in which she seemed to be on quite the emotional rollercoaster.

“We’re going to the beach! You have to be in a good mood when you go to the beach, Diego, it’s the law!” Lila explains seriously and Diego makes the mistake of looking over at her again and his heart skips a beat at the way she’s looking at him.

Klaus’s words ring in his ear, but once more he can’t figure her out. It’s just as likely that she simply genuinely likes going to the beach and is excited about it.

When they get to the shore Diego gets so distracted by all the attractions and all the different activities they get up to that he almost starts to feel like they’re on an actual date.

They take a walk along the water, joking and chatting in a way they haven’t in weeks, Lila taking off her shoes and pulling up the skirt of her dress so she can wade in all the way to her knees. Diego’s impressed as he just puts his hand in the shallow waves once to gage the temperature and decides that he has absolutely no interest in getting any other part of his body wet.

They have about twenty pictures left on the film, so they make sure to get as many different photos as possible so they can claim their honeymoon was a couple of days long, rather than just a single day trip. They have lunch on the terrace of a small seafood restaurant and then head back to Diego’s car to change into a different set of clothes and wander along the fair on either side of the promenade.

One stall offers knife throwing for prizes and Lila gets Diego to take part. He’s surprisingly good at it and lets Lila choose a prize and instead of taking one of the huge stuffed toys she picks a cheap-looking bracelet made up of wooden beads on a string and Diego can’t help but think that it really does look pretty cute on her.

As the day turns into late afternoon he buys them ice cream to take along their walk down the pier and Diego doesn’t miss the way something flashes across Lila’s expression when he hands her her cone and then turns back to the vendor and asks for a receipt for their immigration file. He has no idea what to make of it, though.

“There’s a place near London called Brighton,” Lila begins telling him as they almost reach the end of the pier, “it has this huge, gaudy pier and when I was at school they took us there on a day trip. I really didn’t like it, but then they also took us by boat to this other pier that was derelict and damaged by storms and you couldn’t get to it without a boat anymore and I much preferred that one, even though there was nothing really there anymore, except for the ruins of a victorian building.” Lila leans over the ornate, wrought iron railing and looks out at the water. “And then, when I was in my teens there was this massive fire and a couple of friends and I we bunked off school and took a train down to Brighton to take a look. We could still see smoke coming off it even the day after and there was this sooty smell on the beach and I don’t know why but I actually teared up. And I can’t quite explain it, but it was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen!”

Lila turns to look at him then, and her huge brown eyes are so full of emotion that Diego finds it hard to look at her and simultaneously can’t tear his eyes away.

Lila blinks rapidly and then turns back to look out at the sea and the slowly setting sun and says in a low voice, “Don’t even know why I’m telling you this.”

On some instinct Diego pulls out the camera and takes a picture of her in profile. They’ve been purposely only taking pictures of the two of them together, on occasion asking strangers and then wrapping an arm around each other, or Lila would put her hand in the crook of his elbow, because a photo of them individually will offer nothing in the way of evidence for the visa process.

Having heard the shutter release go off, Lila looks at him again and asks, “What’d you take a picture of?”

Diego looks down at where he’s winding the little wheel to the next picture on the film with his thumb and says quietly, “One of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.”

Lila doesn’t respond and when he does muster the nerve to raise his eyes up to meet hers, there’s suddenly a charge between them that feels like it might set the damp sea air on fire. He’s just about to say something, anything really, when a slightly nasal voice coming from somewhere off to the side chimes in with a midwestern twang, “Hey mister, would you like me to take a photo of you and the lovely missus?”

They both look around abruptly to see a small woman with a kind, round face look at them expectantly.

“Uh…” Diego begins, taking a moment to find himself back in the real world, “Yeah, thanks, that’d be nice!”

He hands the camera to the woman and she takes a few steps back to get them in frame and calls out, “Smile!” and he hears the camera click before he’s even managed to follow her instructions. He’s in the middle of wondering about just how dumb he probably looks in the photo when the woman looks over the top of the camera and asks, “One more?” to which Lila says “Yes!” with determination and then grips his shirt with both hands and Diego turns just in time for Lila to press her lips to his and that’s when all coherent thoughts get swept out of his mind like sand along a beach.

“Aw, how wonderful!” Diego hears the woman call out and only realizes that he’s closed his eyes and pulled Lila hard against himself when she puts a couple of inches between them, but doesn’t quite let go of him at the interruption, “Got the sunset in and everything! Here’s your camera.”

Diego lets go of Lila with one hand and she slides back onto her feet, a tiny selfish part of Diego’s brain notes that it almost seemed like she was a little reluctant, and he takes the offered camera.

He puts it back in the bag and then startles when Lila wraps her arms around his waist and presses her face into his chest, hugging him tightly.

A little uncertainly, Diego puts his arms around her and hugs her back, then leans his head down and whispers into her ear, “What’s that for?”

She mumbles against his chest, but he’s close enough to hear her, “Just don’t think I’ve really thanked you enough for what you’re doing for me!”

There are so many things he’d like to respond with but they all seem to either not say enough or far too much about how he feels in that moment, so instead, Diego tightens his grip on her and buries his face in her hair and just holds on until Lila starts pulling away.

-

The drive back to the city is a lot more sombre compared to the giddy energy that Lila had created in the car on their way to the beach. Diego looks over at her periodically, but for most of the time she’s just quietly staring out of the window at the scenery whizzing by in the half light of dusk. It’s a beautiful view, he can’t blame her, but he feels almost like she’s trying to avoid conversation with him. So not sure what he would even talk about, Diego leaves her to it and spends his time making up his mind that once she has her green card and is no longer reliant on their continued charade, he owes it to himself, but maybe even the two of them, to tell her how he feels.

-

There’s a definite shift in the way they live together after their beach trip. They never actually discuss it, but Diego makes an effort to not work until late in the evening, and it seems Lila hardly ever has any plans with friends at night, and so they spend the weeks leading up to their immigration interview cooking and having dinner together, often using the time to get to know each other as best they can and compare notes on all the relevant answers to the questions Rodriguez and his wife wrote down for them. Other times they’ll put on a movie and make popcorn and spend a quiet evening on the couch together.

It’s both perfect and absolute bliss and at the same time it nearly tears Diego apart. Because every time they sit together on the couch, separated only by the fucking bowl of popcorn that they both very strenuously take turns to put their hand in, he has to physically restrain himself from simply shoving the stupid bowl to the floor and launching himself at Lila.

It’s slowly driving him insane.

On the day of their interview they are both quite nervous and when the USCIS agent separates them and puts them in different offices, Diego can’t stop fidgeting even when the interviewer promptly comes back in to talk to him.

He needn’t have worried. They’d done a good job at preparing for the interview and between all of the photos and receipts (some of them legit others maybe slightly less so), there are no holes that anyone could poke in the story they’d created.

He is somewhat thrown, though, when the agent asks him whether he loves his wife, that wasn’t a question that Rodriguez had mentioned, but it strikes him that it’s the one question that he can answer most honestly, so he tells her that he loves Lila with all of his heart and at this point couldn’t imagine living without her, and the agent just makes a note on her notepad and then thanks him for his time.

He’s waiting in the foyer when Lila comes out looking a little flustered and Diego’s heart sinks in disappointment as he concludes she must not have gotten her green card.

“You ok?” he asks tentatively as she gets to him and Lila gives him a glassy eyed look and says slightly absentmindedly, “Yeah, course!”

Confused by her answer, Diego tries again and asks, “How’d it go?”

Lila seems just as confused when she answers, “Uh, yeah, fine!”

Feeling like there’s a misunderstanding somewhere in their conversation Diego asks head on, though he feels like he’s being insensitive, “So, d’you get the visa?”

“What?” Lila asks distractedly, then adds, looking more harassed than he’s ever seen her “Oh that, yeah, yeah, of course I did. Uhm, can we just go home?”

He’s absolutely thrown by that. He would have expected her to be significantly more excited, considering the amount of work she put in, but he thinks maybe it’s just the adrenaline wearing off, so he follows her wordlessly out of the building and back to the car.

When they get back to the apartment, Diego’s just in the middle of taking off his boots, when Lila twists around to look at him and then rushes out, almost as if she’s been holding the question in for hours, “Diego, are you in love with me?”

[spookyceph]

Comfort Zone Pt. 2, a Shigaraki & Toga Fic

Sorry it’s not exciting, but here’s the rest. For anyone who hasn’t read the beginning, find Part 1 here or on my Ao3 account. 

Rating: T and up

Words: 1,936

Warnings: Swearing, blood, canon-typical disturbing thoughts and imagery

Several seconds slipped past and he thought his first apology had gone to waste. Then, a messy bun peeked back out past the edge of the window. Just enough face to let one wide, gold eye peer at him followed. Tomura’s nerves demanded he say something, anything, but his better instincts told him to keep quiet and still. Patience paid off; the girl emerged halfway, gaze now curiously flitting all over him.

“Are leaders of villain gangs supposed to apologize?” she said.

Scanning each of her facial features, Tomura detected no hint of being fucked with. On the contrary—she practically hung out of the sill in anticipation of an answer. He scowled behind Father and picked at a scab on the side of his neck.

“I don’t know. Or care. What’s the point of being a villain if I’m just going to follow the same shitty rules under a different label?’

Toga’s attention landed on his busy fingers. Her metallic eyes glazed over and a blush flared in her cheeks. Ah, right. Her quirk involved drinking blood and right now his skin down to his collarbones was tacky with it. Did it call to her like destruction did to him? With an effort he made sure not to show, Tomura relocated his fingers from picking away at his neck to tapping on the metal mesh underneath him. Toga’s gaze, however, remained glued in place.

“Did I wake you up?” he said, hoping that breaking the silence would do the same for whatever spell she was under.

Success. She blinked, refocusing on Father. “Hm? Oh, no. I came out here to—yeah, that’s right!” Flashing a dainty set of fangs in a delighted grin, she disappeared inside once more. Tomura caught the faint clatters and thumps from boxes being rummaged through before Toga returned. She swung her legs out first, the rest of her body shimmying out after. Even in her excitement she moved silently, not getting so much as a squeak from the fire escape when her small frame settled onto it. Tomura analyzed each movement, noting the angles of her joints, how she distributed weight, the order she moved her limbs. He could be stealthy when he tried, but Toga flowed naturally, without thought. No doubt her victims never saw her coming unless she wanted them to.

“Ta-da!” She held up the reason that had brought her outside for his inspection.

Tomura tilted his head. “A bird feeder?”

“Yup! I know it’s against city ordinance, but…villainy, right?” She offered another toothy smile. Giggling, she hung the little ceramic dish of seeds from the edge of the platform above. Her cheeks glowed pink again as she gave it a gentle push with a finger, setting it to swinging.

“I love the little birdies. They’re so soft and warm and cute.” She wiped away a trickle of drool from the corner of her smile on the sleeve of her sweater. Tomura wondered just how many knives she hid under the bulky fabric.

“Can you turn into one?” He knew what her files from the National Quirk Database said, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t have manifested new abilities that went unreported.

She shook her head, eyes on the feeder but dreamy, looking inward rather than out. “I wish. Life would be so easy then. I could fly anywhere, see anyone without being chased or told what to do.”

“If that’s what you want, why come here?” Not that he wanted her to leave, not anymore, but Tomura needed to understand. If this whole League of Villains thing was going to move beyond being just a stupidly named front he needed more than throwaway NPCs. He had to grasp what made each member of his party tick, what they were after, in order to make the most of their skills. And, when the time came, he needed to be sure whether he could rely on them to see a mission through.

Think of this another way. As a show of trust.

Beneath Father’s waxy grip Tomura’s face had to be even pinker than Toga’s. Eventually, the emotional charge would deplete from the memory. He just wished there were some way to speed up the process.

“It is easier,” Toga answered him. The daydreaming fog had cleared from her eyes. They settled on him, bright, gold, intense, like tiny twin suns. “I can’t do the things I like alone. I don’t want to be alone anymore. Everyone treats me like I’m strange or stupid—or both. Why? Because I stopped following the same old scripts as them? Because I don’t drag my feet through the same boring steps?”

Probably more because she killed people to suck their blood, but Tomura kept quiet. It amounted to the same reactions from society, he supposed.

“Well, I can’t be what they want. I won’t!” She huffed and hunkered down next to him, hugging her knees and glaring at the brick wall across the way. “I’m too full of life to pretend to be like them. I have too much love to let it go to waste. You and Mr. Stainy showed me that.”

Tomura’s spine straightened. He stared at her in disbelief. “What?”

A sharp, almost sly smile slid across Toga’s face. “I know you don’t like hearing about Stainy…but you’re more alike in some ways than you want to admit.” She giggled even though his hands twitched with momentary thoughts of murder. “Don’t look so grumpy—you know it’s true, otherwise you wouldn’t be so annoyed. Anyway, the League got a lot of stuff right that my poor Stainy missed.”

That soothed the sting. “Such as?”

Her hand flapped back and forth in the space between them. “This! Mr. Stainy thought he could change things all on his own. I mean, he did, a little bit, but only around the city. You think they’re talking about him out in Osaka? Hokkaido? Ha! Nevermind outside Japan.” One by one, she ticked off points on her fingers. “He doesn’t have anyone to bust him out of Tartarus. No one’s going to carry on his work except random fanboys. The public only cares that he looks cool and really has no idea what he stood for, so they’re not really changed by what he did. As far as the world is concerned, his fifteen minutes is over.” With a mournful sigh, she picked at a loose thread along her sweater’s hem. “My poor, silly Stainy. It takes more than belief to pull off a revolution.”

Tomura mulled her observations over, rubbing at the patches of dried blood crusted over his collarbones. Sensei had been right once again; the League was born from his suggestion that Tomura start gathering followers. Railing against hero society wouldn’t get results. He had to seek out those whose skin itched with the same murderous rage, crawled with the same hatred. Banding together, attacking as one, that was their only chance—and where most villains failed.

Stain may have turned up what was left of his nose at working with the League, but he’d wound up laying the groundwork of a recruitment drive for them at least. The clouds of resentment thinned enough for Tomura to finally see Kurogiri’s wisdom on that point as well as not driving Toga or Dabi away. Maybe he’d even admit it to the nagging old ink blot. The phantom of a smile possessed his mouth, faintly pulling at the corners.

“Why do you cover up with this thing?”

Surfacing from his thoughts, Tomura’s breath caught in his throat. Toga had reached out when his guard had fallen, only centimeters from giving Father an inquisitive poke. He twisted away, grabbing her wrist with his first two fingers and thumb.

“Don’t.” Taking a deep breath to shift his pulse down a few gears, he eased his grip somewhat. “My sensei gave them to me so I’d always remember my purpose. So the feelings that keep me striving toward it don’t fade.”

Tilting her head, the long look Toga gave him held more appraisal and speculation than any love-crazy teen girl supposedly had a right to. When she gently tugged her hand back, Tomura let her without a fight. He had to tamp down the impulse to let his own settle at his neck under her scrutiny.

“Sorry. I won’t touch them if it’s important,” she said at last. Her usual persona fell back into place as she wrinkled her nose. “It’s a shame, though. I bet you’re really pretty under there—especially with those red eyes of yours. They match your scratches. Not my type maybe, but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate these things.”

This girl had developed a serious knack for dropping opinions like anvils on his head. Through his shock, though, Tomura had the urge to ask if she was sure. How could she tell? Would anyone else think so? In the momentary lapse of rational thought he even considered removing Father to let her have a proper assessment. Midoriya Izuku had already seen it, after all. Dabi had touched it, for fuck’s sake. But no…making mistakes didn’t give him a free pass to keep blundering ahead. He needed to get a grip. Until he fully trusted these lunatics Giran had showing up on his doorstep he wouldn’t reveal himself again. Only once they’d proved their worth.

“The last thing I need is for some hero to think I’m ‘pretty’,” he muttered.

Grin stretched ear to ear, Toga cupped her ruddy cheeks in her hands. “You never know. You could conquer the world by making it fall in love with you, one person at a time.”

Scoffing, Tomura folded his arms across his chest to keep from clawing his neck in a panic. She couldn’t have seen him and Dabi downstairs. And it wasn’t like her quirk would let her smell anxiety or endorphins or whatever the fuck, right? Right?

“Welp, I better get to the rest of my to-do list. I still got lots of stuff to arrange.” Standing, Toga straightened and dusted off her skirt before beaming down at him like a psychotic cherub. “Don’t be a stranger, Tomura-kun! Knock on my door or window whenever you want to chat or hang out.”

“Hang…out?” The words were almost too alien to manage.

“Sure! After all, we’re friends now. ‘Night!” She wriggled back through the window, closing it and the subject before he could stammer another word out.

Tomura found himself lost in the middle of a no man’s land on the borders of irritated, alarmed, and completely blindsided. “Friends.” He scratched below his eye, between Father’s stiff fingers. “Just like that, huh?”

He was supposed to be their leader, not friend. Supposed to, but then again…villainy. Breaking the mold. Sensei had told him he could do as he pleased.

After double checking Toga’s window remained closed, the blinds down, Tomura carefully removed Father so he could scratch with impunity. He paused a few seconds in, deliberating. Reaching into his pocket, he fished out Dabi’s little gift. He turned the small jar around and around, over and over, while his mind did the same with the night’s events. Well over half an hour later, his hands stilled. Slowly, he unscrewed the lid. The salve was cool against his fingers and face in a way entirely different from wearing Father. Different…but not bad. Not exactly.

He had almost no experience coexisting with others. Even less about leading them, interacting, building the foundations of a lasting arrangement.

Slipping the jar back into his pants pocket, however, Tomura thought he might like to try.

[starryviolentine]

Color Me Blue (That’s Me Without You): A Pre-Apocalypse Story

Part 1 (here)     Part 2 (here)     Part 3 (here)

Part 4/10: Brody

One of Brody’s favorite feelings in the whole world is the amazing sensation that comes from finally getting out of the car and stretching your legs after a long road trip. Stepping outside after being cooped up for hours, just getting to feel the earth under your feet again and breathing in all that fresh air... it’s absolutely glorious. The family SUV pulls up to the gates of Ericson’s Boarding School in the late afternoon on the last day before classes resume and the auburn-haired girl hops out, sun-kissed and glowing from their trip to the coast. Spending time with her mom, dad and brothers out on the Chesapeake Bay made for a weekend straight out of a dream, but Brody’s so happy to be back.

It’s a shame that not everyone feels the same way about Ericson’s. Brody loves it here, and these days she’s enjoying just about everything about her life at school. Just in case anybody asks, she has a list prepared of the three biggest reasons why she’s glad to be back home. Her second home, that is. That’s how much she likes her school.

One, she’s reading a wonderful book in English class and has been dying to find out what happens next. She meant to bring it with her over the weekend so she could get a head start on this week’s reading assignment, but she ended up forgetting it on her desk. Two, the pool is scheduled to open for the season in just a few more days. She’s been looking forward to it for weeks and has even been counting down the days on her calendar. Three, she can’t wait to see all of her friends. Even though she was only gone for a few days, she missed everyone so much, especially her best friend, Violet, and her new friend...

Actually, Brody’s not sure if “new friend” is the right way to describe Therissa. They’ve known each other for a long time. They’ve been roommates ever since Brody was ten. Even though Therissa was moody and mean to her sometimes, she was always there whenever she really needed her. Brody never doubted that deep, deep down the grumpy teenager had a kind heart, even though she didn’t like to show it. Although Brody has always liked Therissa, it was mostly one-sided… or that’s how it felt, at least. But not anymore! Therissa has been so much nicer, and she even hangs out with her and Violet sometimes. Brody truly thinks that they can consider themselves to be real friends now. And whenever she thinks about that, well, she feels like her heart could burst.  

That’s why Brody doesn’t shed a single tear while saying her goodbyes today. As much as she loves her family, and as much as she misses them while she’s at school, so much of Brody’s happiness is right here at Ericson’s. There are hugs and kisses all around, and as the rest of the Buresses pack into the car and drive away, Brody stands at the gates and waves until they’re completely out of sight.

After that, though, she grabs her duffel bag and runs through the school grounds, making a beeline straight back to the dormitories. Along the way, Brody passes lots of familiar faces, and she beams and waves to all of her friends. There’s Sheldon and Trey kicking around a hacky sack on the lawn by the admin building, and Brody pauses just for a minute to say hi to Maddie and Erin who are having a clapping game competition by the courtyard fountain, but then she continues on to the residence hall. In her rush to get upstairs to her bedroom, she almost forgets to check in with the dorm leader to let her know that she’s back, but once everything’s taken care of, she heads down the hall to the central staircase.

Halfway upstairs, Brody spots a certain someone immediately. The girl is sitting on the arm of one of the chairs in the lounge, and even though she’s facing the opposite direction and Brody can’t see her face, she would recognize that long blonde hair anywhere.

“Vi!”

Violet knows that voice. She whips her head around. “Brody?”

Dropping her bag in the middle of the floor, Brody rushes over to Violet and throws her arms around her in an enormous hug. The sudden impact causes Violet to lose her balance and both girls fall in a heap into the seat of the armchair. This sends Brody into a fit of giggles, but she squeezes her friend tighter than ever. Violet is a little squished and her elbow is jammed uncomfortably into that crevice between the chair arm and the seat cushion, but she hugs Brody back as best as she can from her position underneath her.

Violet reaches her limit when she starts to lose feeling in her arms. Her neck is also starting to hurt. “Okay, get off me, please…”

Still beaming, Brody untangles herself from her friend and stands back up. “Did you miss me?”

“You were only gone for four days.”

“I know, but I still missed you.”

Brody has always been observant. She pays attention to little details that most people overlook, and she has a sharp eye for noticing even the most minor changes, like when somebody parts their hair to the opposite side, or when they leave two buttons open on their shirt instead of one. When Erin changed the color of her braces bands from turquoise to teal, Brody was the only one who could tell.

So when Violet gets up from the chair and dusts herself off, letting her friend get a good look at her for the first time since she got back, Brody spots the difference right away.

“Whoa, Vi, your nails!”

Violet instinctively takes a step back and tries to hide her hands behind her back.

“Wait! Let me see!” Growing up with two older brothers allows Brody to wrestle Violet’s limbs from behind her with ease. She gasps, jaw dropping open. “You… When did you paint your nails?”

“I… I didn’t-”

“They’re so pretty,” gushes Brody, voice full of admiration and just a pinch of envy. “Oh, you’re so lucky! Did you do them yourself?”  

The extra attention makes Violet feel kind of embarrassed and she scratches the back of her neck with her free hand. “No, it’s just… Therissa asked, so I let her.”

Brody goes quiet as her brain reels. Therissa? Therissa never lets anyone touch her stuff. Therissa never invites them to hang out… it’s always the other way around. “She did?”

“Yeah,” Violet says, wriggling her arm free. “It’s not a big deal. Come on, Louis said that they’re giving away popsicles in the cafeteria today. Wanna grab one?”

Normally, a popsicle would have been the perfect ending to a perfect weekend, but hearing that her roommates spent time together without her is making Brody wish that she stayed at school over the weekend as well. Now she just feels disappointed that she missed out on a lot of fun. Painting their nails together? Something like that is a billion times more special than a fruity frozen treat. Brody holds her hands out in front of her. Just think, if she had only stayed behind another day or two, she might have colorful fingernails right now, too...

“Hello? Popsicles?” Violet repeats. “Are you coming or what?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Brody agrees quickly, trying to shake off these not-so-happy feelings threatening to ruin her good mood. “Let me drop my stuff off in our room first.”

During the walk to their bedroom, Brody tries to convince herself that there’s nothing to be upset about. Now that she’s back at school, maybe Therissa will offer to paint her nails, too. Of course, her mother wouldn’t approve. In the Burress household, the rule about that always has been, and always will be, no makeup or nail polish until she’s older. On one hand, Brody knows that she shouldn’t go behind her mother’s back, but on the other…

If Therissa asked…

Oh, there’s no way she could say no!

Brody has to admit that there may be times when she gets a tiny, nagging feeling inside her that maybe Therissa doesn’t like her as much as she likes Violet. It’s easier for Therissa and Violet to crack jokes with each other because they seem to have a similar sense of humor. Recently, they’ve started teasing each other a whole lot, but not in a way that’s meant to be mean. It reminds Brody of the silly way that she and her siblings act around one another. Therissa doesn’t do it with her, though. Only with Violet.

And sometimes that makes Brody feel a little left out.

Dr. Larson told her that depending on who you’re with, affection can take on many different shapes, so just because Therissa acts a certain way with Violet doesn’t mean that she likes Brody any less. Even though this makes sense in her head, sometimes her heart could really use a reminder. Brody hopes that Therissa will be there when she gets to their room because, surely, just talking to the teen again like normal will be enough proof that everything’s fine and that she’s just worrying for nothing.

After all, they are real friends now.

Right?

[whitewolfofwinterfell]

I saw you reblogged gifs from Sex Education (so I assume you watch it) and I just recently binged it, after hearing so much about it and I didn’t quite know what to expect going into it. But I found myself liking it and I was surprised and happy about how many important questions and topics it actually deals with, like the important of consent, STD’s, equality, LGBT rights and so on. So I just wonder what your thoughts is on it? (Oh and I love how well written the characters are too)

I really like Sex Education. I was the same as you and didn’t really know what to expect going into it. One of my friends described it as a “classier version of Skins” and I’d say that description is somewhat accurate. It’s similar to Skins in the way that it explores the lives of college students and how realistic and honest it is in doing that. There are a lot of shows that have a young cast and are set at high school or college such Gossip Girl, PLL, TVD, OTH, BtVS, but these shows are completely unrealistic in what they portray. Most of the characters on those shows are supposed to be 17 years old but are being played by actors and actresses in their 20s or 30s, and aside from going to school they live their lives like adults rather than teens. That’s what separates Sex Ed (and Skins) from other shows in the same genre, because it is realistic. All of the young characters on Sex Ed are living their lives as teenagers and not adults. They go to college, they hang out with friends, they go to work part-time, they struggle with their sexuality, they take part in extra-curricular activities, they have difficulties at home in their personal lives and they’re trying to figure out who they are. It’s the stuff that most of us do and go through when we’re that age.

The characters are great. In fact, I think I like every single character on Sex Ed because they’re authentic characters with complexity. Most of them are built on tropes but they all exceed those tropes. Jackson is the perfect example. He’s a handsome jock, star athlete, popular and intelligent. Yet, he shatters any other tropes that would be associated with this type of character. The first trope we’d expect to see is for him to screw around, date loads of girls, be a dick and hurt them and break their heart because he’s scared of commitment. But Jackson truly falls for Maeve and cares about her. He isn’t scared of getting his heart-broken or dating around, he walks into a relationship with Maeve with his eyes and his heart wide open. When he realises Maeve doesn’t feel the same as him, he never lashes out, shames/guilts her or resents her. He continues to be respectful and kind to her. We’d also expect him to be shallow and to judge everything on looks and popularity, but his friendship (and I expect romance, in the future) with Viv shows that Jackson judges individuals based on the person they are rather than how popular they are or how conventionally “hot” they are. Again, we’d expect a character like Jackson to be hung up on his image and what others think, but he doesn’t care. Swimming is part of his image, but he doesn’t care. He decides that he doesn’t want to swim and that he’d rather act instead, and although he’s worried what his mom will say, he doesn’t care what anyone else will think. And Jackson is just one example of a character built on cliched tropes that goes way beyond them and shatters them. Otis fulfils the awkward, shy virgin trope, but he actually has such a deep understanding of sex and relationships which allows him to relate to and connect with a wide range of people. Maeve is fulfils the cool, badass stereotype but is actually very sensitive, caring, empathetic and not afraid to show kindness or love to others.

It’s not just the characters I like either, it’s also the relationships between the characters. Otis and Eric’s friendship is so beautiful. It instantly stood out to me as being special based purely on the fact that it’s a close and intimate friendship between a straight and gay guy. In my experience, I have never known a gay guy to be best friends with a straight guy. This is because of the misconceptions and stereotypes built around masculinity and homosexuality. A lot of straight guys wouldn’t be best friends with a gay guy because they’d be afraid that they would then be labelled as being gay by association. They also think that if a guy is gay that automatically means he must fancy every guy he comes into contact with and would be a sex monster. It’s so silly, incorrect and such backwards thinking, but I’ve seen it so much throughout my life. Yet Otis and Eric love each other so much and they’re so close too. Eric can talk openly to Otis about his romantic and sexual relationships without feeling like Otis is judging him or is embarassed or grossed out (again, a common theme amongst straight guys when they interact with gay guys about sex). It’s just such a great relationship. But then there’s also Jackson and Viv, Maeve and Aimee, Adam and Eric, Otis and Maeve that are all wonderful relationships to watch evolve on-screen. Even seeing Otis and Nicole come together after having sex to address the fact that she may be pregnant was refreshing. Not only does this deal with unwanted and unplanned pregnancy, it shows that when two people come together and have sex it is the responsibility of both of those individuals to deal with the consequences.

The LGBTQA+ representation is brilliant, and it’s so necessary. Even with the increased representation in recent years, there’s still no where near enough exploration of sexuality in television and how it impacts young people. So many teenagers question their sexuality or struggle to understand how they’re feeling or who they are, and shows like this can make all the difference. If young people can relate to the characters they see on-screen, it gives them a way to understand and process their own feelings. People think we’ve come so far and there’s so much understanding around sexuality, but as someone that works in high schools, let me tell you, there isn’t. A lot of young people have never heard the words bisexual, pansexual or asexual, they also don’t understand that sexuality is often fluid or that gender identity and sexuality aren’t the same thing or even necessarily connected. My only issue with the way sexuality is explored on the show is that it’s not as in-depth as it could be. For example, Ola starts to have sex dreams about Lily, takes an online quiz which says she’s pansexual and she just goes with it. It’s usually a lot more complex than that and if someone is questioning their sexuality it can take months and even years to come to terms with that and find a label that they feel comfortable with (if they want to label themselves at all). It was similar with Adam too. He develops feelings for Eric and we know he struggles with that, but then he just turns up at the party and tells Eric he thinks he’s bisexual. How does he come to this conclusion? He’s had sexual relationships with females in the past, we know this, but actually at the start of the show he’s struggling to perform sexually with his girlfriend. So why does he feel that he’s bisexual rather than gay? This is really just me being picky, because in a way I think it’s a little lazy. If a character states that they are something, then that is what they are, but I think more time should be devoted to following these characters as they try to figure out what their sexuality is and how they want to label themselves, instead of the character developing feelings for one character of the same sex and then suddenly jumping to “okay, I’m bi/pan”. Regardless, the LGBTQA+ representation in Sex Ed is amazing and defintiely somethinng that I give a lot of praise to.

Aimee’s story is also a brilliant exploration of the importance of consent and sexual assault. You can read more about my thoughts on this here. But also, hearing Jean tell the kids that it is always their right to say no is very, very important. Throughout my life I’ve had so many people tell me that they had sex when they didn’t want to because they were “just going along with it” but they tell themselves it was okay because they didn’t actually say “no” out loud and therefore it’s not rape. People don’t realise that they can start having sex with someone and change their mind, and if that person doesn’t stop, it’s unconsensual sex and therefore rape. People don’t realise that if a couple have been married for 10 years and the wife wakes up to her husband having sex with her, it’s unconensual and therefore rape. People don’t realise that if someone is drunk out of their mind and barely concious, it’s unconsesual sex and therefore rape. There are so many more scenarios like these that I see people describe as being “grey areas” and it makes me so angry, because they are not fucking grey areas at all. Consent is such a simple concept but people try to over-complicate it. People will often use the “but people don’t verbally give consent when they have sex, they just do it, so how do you know that they’ve actually given consent” - bloody ask them! There is nothing wrong with asking someone, “Do you want to do this”, “Are you sure?”, “Do you feel like this is the right thing?” or saying, “If you want to stop at anytime we can”, “Tell me if I’m hurting you or do something wrong.” If two people are having sex there should be that open communication and trust present to be able to ask these questions and have these conversations, and if there isn’t, then there has to be question as to whether they should be having sex at all. I’ll discuss the importance of communication around sex below. But when it comes to consent, I find it really alarming how much misunderstanding there is around it and how much incorrect information is given out. Consent is probably one of the most important issues around sex that young people should be educated on. It’s the very foundation of sexual relationships, because no consent = no sex.

Overall, the show explores a lot of very important topics that aren’t always featured in shows to the extent that it should be. It could definitley go further with some of the themes it explores, but it covers a lot of ground in a limited time-frame and does more justice to it than a lot of other shows I’ve seen, so I have to give credit where it’s due.

(below the cut is less an analysis of Sex Education and more of a discussion around sex/relationships, stereotypes and misconceptions around them and how poor sex education is in school).

I think it’s important for shows like Sex Education to be made not only because it portrays life as a teenager in a more realistic way (instead of creating unrealistic expectations for young people that they should be living lives of glitz and glamour where they’re at extravagant house parties every week and dating hot older men/women that are doctors or lawyers or business owners), but because it specifically tackles the topic of sex. Let’s be honest here: sex education in schools is really, really, really bad. Kids simply aren’t taught what they need to know about sex and as a result their well-being, safety, happiness and identity is often compromised. If you’re 12 years old (in the UK that’s the age you are in your first year at high school) and experiencing an attraction to someone of the same sex but haven’t been told what that means, why it’s happening or that it’s okay, how is that going to make you feel? If you’re 14 years old and in a relationship with an older guy who’s pressuring you for sex and has told you that he doesn’t want to wear a condom because it’s not as pleasurable for him, how are you going to understand that asking you to do that is not okay or articulate how you feel to your parnter? If you’re 16 and have been in a long-term relationship sexual relationship with a partner that is kind, respectful and loving but you don’t find sex enjoyable or pleasurable, how are you going to know why you feel this way or how to rectify it and discuss it with your partner? And these are just a few scenarios that I can think of off the top of my head. There are so many scenarios, topics, experiences, questions and concerns that teenagers have when it comes to sex and relationships, and unless they’re lucky and have super open, supportive and expressive parents, they most likely won’t have answers to any of their questions.

That’s because sex education (in the UK at least), is all focused on the biology; how the body changes during puberty, how sexual intercourse leads to pregnancy and the health ramifications of contracting an STI. There’s nothing about the mental, emotional and physical side of it, which in my opinion, is the most important part because that’s what directly impacts teenagers. Young people should be prepared and have absolute understanding of the kinds of experiences they may have, what to do if they ever find themselves in a situation that they feel uncomfortable with or that has made them feel insecure, upset, afraid, hurt etc., how to navigate healthy sexual/romantic relationships, what consent is and how to communicate with others about sex. For a lot of young people (and even adults!), sex is treated as such a taboo subject; they’re either too awkward, embarassed or ashamed to talk about it or have been told they should keep those sort of things to themselves. But open communication is so important when it comes to sex, particularly with your partner. I don’t agree with teenagers (below 18 at least) being in serious romantic and sexual relationships, it’s a part of life and it’s always going to happen, so young people should know how to navigate those relationships and be able to communicate with their partner effectively.

This is part of what I love about Sex Ed so much - there’s a complete openness around sex. Jean is a brilliant character and although she’s not a perfect mother, the openness she has around sex is refreshing. Sex is a part of life and it should be treated as such. Adults have this notion that they need to protect kids from sex and not give them all of the facts, but this is more likely to cause more harm in the future when these children grow up and start having sexual experiences. Jean’s openness with Otis is sometimes mortifying, but it’s also a positive thing, because she wants him to feel safe and comfortable to come to her if he’s ever struggling or confused about anything related to sex/relationships. And every child should have that; an adult that they can trust and confide in and even ask for advice on these things, because it is difficult for young people.

I also love that Jean is that she’s not afraid to talk about sex and pleasure. Again, this all stems from the embarassment and shame around sex, but people have such a problem with talking about sex (again, even adults still struggle with it) in terms of being a pleasurable and gratifying act. Kids are usually told sex is between two people who love each other to make a baby. But actually, how true is that? Sex and love aren’t mutually exclusive and it’s more likely for a couple to use contraception to prevent reproduction than it is to be trying to reproduce. Not to mention that same sex couples can’t reproduce naturally, so this explanation completely shuts down the idea of sex between individuals of the same sex, which is ridiculous. The simple fact is that a lot of the time sex is about pleasure. But as Jean discusses, pleasure is so taboo and especially when it comes to females.

I’m so glad the show shed light on this, because as a woman with female friends I’ve definitley noticed this. I’ve had female friends that have been sexually active for 10 years and that have never had an orgasm with their partner. It’s a common occurence for women to go without orgasms for most or the whole of their life, not understanding how to have one or even realising that they’re not having them. In the 21st century, sex is still defined by men and their pleasure. When people think about sex, they think about penetration, they think it begins with insertion and ends when the man has climaxed. Any porn video you watch involving a man and woman will be geared towards men. General perceptions of sex are still built around penises, because apparently they’re just so important that sex can’t be sex without them, right? Wrong! Sex is much broader than this. Women have sex with each other with no penises involved, and let me tell you, it’s still sex. Men and women can have sex without having intercourse. Men and men can have sex without having intercourse. Likewise, for women, penal penetration is not the only way to orgasm, in fact, it’s scientifically proven that it’s the hardest way to have an orgasm. Even today women don’t understand their own bodies or engage in masturbation because they feel that it’s shameful or wrong. We’re still expected to supress and ignore our sexuality and be demure and prudish. Jean absolutely smashes this notion to pieces and I love it, because women have every right to be sexually open and to enjoy sex and derive pleasure from it as men. All women should feel comfortable to masturabte, all women should be able to have pleasure from sex, all women deserve to have a partner who takes the time to understand their bodies and wants to please them, all women deserve to have the freedom to express themselves sexually in whichever way they feel comfortable with without fear of judgement or ridicule.

Sex Education is an important show because it raises questions around these topics and tackles them head-on. I’ve heard people describe it as being too “PC” and trying too hard to be “trendy”, but it’s not. All it’s doing is addressing the experiences, feelings, thoughts and struggles that young people all over the world are going through every day that are misunderstood and not spoken about. The show may not always address this issues in the best way, but it does tackle them and that’s what counts. And I, for one, am glad that shows like this are being made. The title “Sex Education” is the perfect title for this show, because it will educate many of its viewers on sex and teach them things that they didn’t know before watching. 

[cottontail20]

Ballet Shoes

Summary: While being babysat by Natasha, Viv finds Nat's ballet shoes. This Brings up some memories for the Black Widow

.Companion piece to 'Dance, Dance' , set in the 'Nothing is Impossible' Universe. One-shot.

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21745003

It was relatively early in the Morning, a little earlier than Natasha Romanoff would usually wake when she had most of the day off, but awake she was, and once she was awake, there was usually no-changing the situation until the following night, so she might as well just get up.

She was just making her morning coffee, when her phone rang. Seeing Wanda's name flash on the screen, she answered the call.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Nat. Are you busy Today?"

"I have a meeting at five" Natasha replied, though it was not exactly a traditional meeting. "I'm free until then, though. Why?"

"Is it really just a meeting?"

"If I told you that, kiddo, I might have to kill you" Nat was joking, of course.. But no-one else had ever been able to tell when the Black Widow was joking.

"Right.. Uh, would you mind watching Viv for a few hours? She's got a bit of a sniffle. We wouldn't usually ask, but we already promised the twins a trip to the Arcade for bringing home good report cards. We promise to pick her up before your, uh, meeting.."

"Sure" Natasha's eyes lit up. She would never turn down the chance for a bit of one-on-one time with her beloved Goddaughter. "Just give me some time to get the floor ready, and let me know when you're on your way.." -- By 'the floor', Natasha meant the floor of the compound in which the Avengers' bedrooms and all their living areas were located. This was also the floor that they tried to keep any visiting children confined to, as it was the safest. However, there were still a few extra precautions Nat wanted to take before six-year old Vivian Natasha Maximoff arrived for her visit.

Steve, Bucky, and Sam were out for the day at a Veterans event, and Carol was visiting her friend Maria, leaving Bruce to help Nat with her child-proofing. Most of what she needed to do involved hiding her many hidden weapons, mostly those in the cupboard containing her undercover outfits, which she often let Viv use for dress-ups when she minded her.

Bruce, waiting just outside the room, eyed two boxes already loaded with various forms of weaponry, while Nat had almost finished filling a third.

"You have that many weapons in your Bedroom?" He asked, more nervous than surprised.

"You're never more vulnerable than when you are asleep" Natasha murmured in reply, speaking almost as if by rote. "Never let the enemy catch you unprepared in your weakest moments.."

"What?" Bruce frowned.

"Nothing.. Red Room stuff, hard to shake" Nat shook her head, then pushed the boxes towards Bruce, while having kept just a few small items hidden on her person in case of emergency. "Go lock these up in the armoury for me? Wanda's dropping off Viv in a few minutes."

"Sure" Bruce very carefully picked up the boxes, holding them slightly away from himself. "I'll be in the Lab if you two need anything.." --

Soon, Wanda arrived to drop off Vivian, with Vision waiting in the car with the twins.

"Thank you so much, Nat" Wanda smiled at her, Viv at her feet. The little girl was still in pyjamas, wiping her nose on a handkerchief, but managed a smile for her Auntie Nat. "We wouldn't usually leave her when she's ill, but we already promised Tommy and Billy.."

"It's fine, go enjoy your time with the boys while they're still early enough in their teen years to not be completely embarrassed by you" Natasha smiled, then turned to her Goddaughter. "Viv and I will have fun, won't we my little Babochka?"

"Uh-huh" Viv nodded.

"Still, thank you. We'll be back in a few hours" Wanda crouched to kiss her daughter's forehead. "Be good for Auntie Nat, Fata dulce."

"I will, Mama."

Once Wanda had departed, Nat crouched to her Goddaughter's eye-level.

"I heard you had a little sniffle."

"Yes" Viv nodded. "And my throat's a little bit sore.."

"Ah. Well, you know what Auntie Nat prescribes for sore throats?" Nat smiled and scooped her up, heading for the Kitchen.

"What?" Viv giggled.

"A nice big bowl of ice cream. And after, if you're feeling alright, we can play dress-up.."

"Yay!" --

A short while later, after stuffing Viv full of ice cream, Natasha was letting Viv dig through the now weapon-free undercover/'dress-up' closet. Of course everything was too big to actually fit, swimming on the little girl's six-year old form, dresses dragging metres behind her and tripping her up, but that didn't matter. It was all for fun, and snapping a few cute pictures that Nat could send to Wanda.

However, in the midst of Viv's digging, she found something Nat wasn't expecting her to come across.

"Ooh, ballerina shoes!"

Natasha snatched the shoes from Viv rather quickly.

"I didn't know I put those there.." Ballet was part of her Red Room training, teaching her to be disciplined, and eventually, turning the graceful movements into something deadly. While it had been one of the least unpleasant parts of her life in the Red Room, she had, for very good reasons, tried to keep anything about the Red Room away from the children in her life.

"They're very pretty, Auntie Nat" Viv made no comment on Natasha's slightly odd behaviour, as the Avengers were a slightly odd extended family. "Where did you get them? Ooh.. were you a Ballerina?"

"Well.." Nat paused, thinking for a moment. "You could say that."

"Can you show me a ballet dance, Auntie Nat? Please?" Viv grabbed her hand.

Suddenly, Natasha was transported to the past, somewhere different, somewhere dark. With another young blonde, quite a bit older than Viv, but younger than Natasha, with soft brown eyes instead of green. --

"Please, Natasha.."

"Let go, Belova.." Natasha remembered scowling and tugging her hand out of the younger woman's grip.

"Please" Yelena had repeated. "Everyone knows you are the best. I just need help getting my steps straight in ballet.. If you work with me, just for a bit, I could be good too.. I know what happens to the girls who fall behind.. I don't want to disappear."

Natasha had hesitated. Helping the younger recruit could be a slippery slope towards getting attached, and getting attached was a big no-no in the Red Room. But.. Yelena did show promise.

"Only until you get your shit together" Nat had relented. "And no-one can know about this."

"I wouldn't want them to.." --

"Auntie Nat?" Viv poked her arm.

Natasha shook her head, breaking out of her memory. Of course it would come up Today, of all days.

"Yeah.. I suppose a little dance couldn't hurt."

As Natasha cleared a space in the Living Room, and tugged on the ballet slippers that miraculously still fit, she found herself quite glad that all three soldier boys were out for the day, and Bruce was happily ensconced in the lab, as little Vivian Natasha was probably the only person in the world that she felt any where close to comfortable doing this for.

"Okay, I think that's enough space.." Nat turned to Viv. "Ready?"

"Uh-huh" Viv, settled comfortably on the couch, wiped her nose again, then nodded. "Dance, Auntie Nat!"

"Alright.." Natasha took a breath, almost nervous. She hadn't truly danced in quite a while. She wasn't even entirely sure she remembered how to do it without turning the movements into deadly attacks.

She closed her eyes, taking another breath. Fighting was calculated, but dancing, even dancing as calculated and regimented as ballet, came from the heart. Maybe she shouldn't think about it quite so much. She should just 'do'. So she did.

Natasha played the music she'd chosen, and she danced. She leapt, she pirouetted, all with her eyes closed.

And Natasha remembered. --

"Watch me for a bit, and follow along when you're ready.. When you do follow, make sure you keep up.."

"I will."

Yelena, determined, had kept up, and it hadn't taken long for her to catch up to, and soon surpass, her Red Room classmates. But she kept practising after hours with Natasha, long after she needed the extra help. They never really spoke about why.. never suggested that they might actually have come to enjoy each other's company. It was just something they did.

Later, they would spar together, practice weapons, somehow always trusting that the other one wouldn't actually hurt them. And later still, sometimes they would just talk. Usually not about anything important or meaningful, but when Natasha grew nervous as her 'Graduation Ceremony' approached, Yelena was the only one she told.

"Don't be silly, Sis" Yelena had replied. Neither one of them knew exactly when they had started calling each other that, it was just another thing that had happened. "This is everything we work for.."

"I suppose.." said Nat. "But.. Sometimes I wonder if 'This' is all there is.."

Yelena had hesitated for a moment before she said:

"So do I.."

After Natasha's 'Ceremony' was over, Yelena had come sneaking into her quarters, letting her cry into her chest so no-one else could hear. --

As the music ended, Nat's eyes opened. She was breathing quite heavily for a moment, still caught in her memory, until Vivian's applause brought her back to the present.

"That was a really good dance, Auntie Nat" Viv grinned as she ran over to her, taking her hand. "Can you teach me ballet too?"

"Well.."

"Please?"

"Please, Natasha?"

”No-one can know.."

Nat smiled and crouched to her Goddaughter's eye-level, running her fingers through her soft blonde hair.

"Of course, Babochka. I'll teach you when you are feeling better."

"You will?" Viv grinned.

"I will" Nat nodded. "And when you've practised enough, we can show everybody."

"Everybody?"

"Everybody."

"Yay!" Viv hugged her tightly. "Thank you, Auntie Nat!"

Natasha chuckled. When she held her little namesake, it was almost like the red in her ledger had never existed. But some parts of her past, some people, could not be forgotten.

—

Sometime later, after Wanda had picked-up Viv, Natasha headed to her 'meeting', at a usually quiet train station. There was a small room full of lockers, and inside one of them, Natasha stuffed a duffel bag, full of clothes, a few sets of new identity papers, money and coupons for food.. Then she hid herself out of sight.

It was a while before a blonde-haired figure, a little scruffier than Nat remembered her, arrived to retrieve the bag. As the figure rifled through the contents, Nat revealed herself, and was almost immediately greeted by a pistol aimed at her face.

"Hey, Sis" Nat smirked, raising her hands in surrender. Usually they would spar, but the location didn't exactly provide ideal sparring conditions.

"You are not supposed to be here.." Yelena lowered the gun.

"I know. But you know I try every time" Natasha replied. "You don't have to keep running. If I vouched for you.."

"I don't think I fit in your big happy American Family.." Yelena frowned.

"I don't think I fit" Nat chuckled, "But here I am with four Godkids. Sometimes life throws some pretty unexpected curve balls. So.. Offer's always open."

"Thank you.." Yelena paused. "Maybe someday."

"I'll be waiting" said Nat. "Even if you just want to check in more than once a year, that's fine." Yelena was already gone, but Natasha felt quite hopeful. 'Maybe someday' was a lot more promising than the previous flat-out 'No'. She headed home with a smile on her face. --

On the roof of the station, Yelena finished sorting through the bag. Amidst the clothes and papers, she found a brand-new pair of Ballet slippers.

For the first time in a while, Yelena Belova smiled.

Notes:

Translation:

Babochka: Butterfly

[emmyrosee]

Love Regardless (Fluff)

I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared to post a piece of fanfiction? But for once, it’s not because of how bad it is (don’t get me wrong- it’s still not good, and it’s extremely fast paced, SOMEONE TEACH ME HOW TO PACE!) as much as it is for offending people and having the wrong information. I do understand that for some, they’re on one side of the asexuality spectrum, and others are in other areas. This is just the closest to a broad spectrum that I could achieve with the resources I had (including some irl homies and @whoviancumberbunny. Thank Ya Baby!) Speaking of, @whoviancumberbunny, thank you so much for the idea and the experience that you graciously shared with me. Without either, this would have never come to be!💕💕💕

In addition, in honor of pride month, I tried to keep this non-gender specific. I don’t know how I did with that, but let me know if you enjoyed

I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: Language, suggestive themes, Jim’s friends are fairly uncensored (and also direct quotes from my personal life), and I mean NO OFFENSE to anyone on the asexual spectrum. I just wanted to keep it fairly wide to everyone.

Jim Mason x (non gender-specific)Asexual!Reader: after being Jim’s friend for a while, you two finally go on a sweet date, and to no one’s surprise, Jim’s nothing but a gentleman... right? 

To have pride in yourself is something most would murder to have. Blessed by wonderful friends who loved you for you, not your body count, you were able to have that pride. You knew who and what you were- you were asexual. And you, along with your friends, knew that there was nothing wrong with it. There was nothing wrong with the fact that you got uncomfortable when discussing sex, or having sex. But for some reason, every time you’d told a potential relationship about it, they shined away from you like you had a disease and snuck out of quarantine.

High school romance seemed like a stupid thing to want anyway, especially if people could be this immature about your comfort and identity.

But then there’s Jim.

In every sense of the word, Jim is perfect- great smile, stunning blue eyes, the talent to do almost everything that most people would murder for, and the understanding from a person that everyone desired from a friend.

The small flaws that Jim harbored were common among teens in Palos Verdes, and you felt like you couldn’t blame him for that. You two have been friends for a while, playfully flirting and hanging out after school with his stupid, faded friends.

Which in of itself was fine.

But it wasn’t until they started talking about you behind your back to Jim, asking him the most obscure and disgusting questions that you weren’t even sure you could think of.

“So Jim, how long till you demolish that sweet ass?”

“Bet it’s fuckin’ hot when y/n comes. You gotta send me a video, dude.”

“Man, I gotta say, if they like your scrawny little dick inside of them, give ‘em five minutes with me, you’ll be old news, boy.”

“I know this is kinda fucked up but, you think y/n would ever fuck around with a chick?”

Disgusting.

Thankfully, Jim would tell you about all the shit they were saying, and you genuinely believe him when he says he’s never answered those questions.

Which is exactly why you agreed to a date with Jim.

He never seemed like the kind of guy to use his friendship with you against you.

He cares way too much about you and your feelings, he would never try anything stupid or funny in front of you.

After a sweet date with the surfer which included dinner, Jim decided to take you back to your house like you’d expect him to do. The idea of a movie began floating around the car, and as you approached home, you two decided to let that idea become a reality.

He pulls into your driveway and parks crooked, as you expected (and constantly tease him for) before walking hand in hand into your house.

“Would you like to go upstairs?” You offer, swinging his hand back and forth. “We could just watch a movie in there.”

Jim smiles, bringing your knuckles to his lips and placing a gentle kiss to them, “sure. I’ll grab a movie, you pop some popcorn?”

“Sure thing,” you agree, kissing his cheek.

The movie Jim picked wasn’t exactly the most exciting thing in the world. It was hard to follow, no interesting actors, and you swear on your life that between yours and Jim’s questions, you’d talked more than the characters in the film.

After one of your particularly funny questions, Jim looked over at you with nothing but pure love and admiration in his eyes.

“Can I... kiss you?” He asks shyly. Giggling, you nod, and within seconds your lips are locked together in a sweet, gentle kiss. Just as you suspected, Jim did nothing funny, simply enjoying the small kiss as much as he can.

Then again, the trailing of his hand down your back, a little lower than you’d expect makes a strange signal go off.

Hm.

And then the way his tongue grazes across your lower lip, you allow, but you aren’t sure where he’s going with this.

“Jim,” you pant from the kiss.

Jim’s lips travel down your neck and face, sucking on your neck to arouse hickeys.

“Fuck, I want you so bad, baby,” he hissed, continuing to cover you in bites and kisses.

So that’s what he wanted.

Slowly, you feel yourself tense under his touch. You didn’t answer, and suddenly Jim felt like this... stranger.

It wasn’t until his long fingers reached for the waistband of your pants that you knew you had to put a stop to this.

“W-Wait Jim,” you whisper, pushing him off of you gently. He pulled pack, eyes wide with worry. “I... want to stop.”

“I-I’m so sorry, I thought you wanted that,” Jim said, eyeing the darkening mark on your neck.

You sigh, “I’m sorry, I should’ve been more clear.”

“Oh, God I’m so sorry, Y/N, I didn’t mean to do anything you didn’t want,” Jim says, body language becoming more sporadic and unpredictable.

“Jim,” you say gently, “relax. It’s not that deep, it’s just that I...” You paused to think of the right words. “I didn’t want it, but I did, does that make sense?”

Jim eyes you, confused, tilting his head like a lost puppy. You let out a quiet laugh, not even sure if you understood what you meant. “Jim, I’m asexual. And I understand if you’d like to leave.”

The silence in the room makes your heart break, the acidic feeling of sadness filling your stomach.

After a long pause, Jim slowly smiles. He laces his fingers with yours on the bed, “I don’t mind.”

The feeling of dread and emptiness is gone. Your heart kicks back into overdrive. “I...What?” You ask. Jim leans forward to kiss your forehead gently, “I don’t mind. I’d like to stay with you, if you’ll let me.”

You tilt your head, “Jim, I don’t like sex. Seeing and talking about it makes me uncomfortable.”

“I know,” he said, matching your head tilt with his own. “I understand. And if you’d like me to, I want to stay.”

“What about all that stuff that you and your friends talk about? Like, I don’t want them to give you crap about it-“

“What you and I do or don’t do is none of my friends’ concerns,” Jim assures, brushing the hair out of your face. “It never was, and it never will be.”

You aren’t exactly sure of what came over you. But the next thing you know, you’re being cradled in Jim’s arms while tiny droplets of your tears drip on his arms and through his jacket. You don’t exactly know why. The only assumption is that he understands what you’re feeling and what you mean, whereas you’ve convinced yourself that he would be ignorant about how you felt.

“You really think this could work?” You whimper, not looking up at him. Your cheek is pressed against his warm chest, and his thumb pets your temple back and forth soothingly.

You feel him nod, “Yeah,” he whispers. “I do. But only if you want to. We can do this. He placed a gentle kiss into your hair as he holds you, letting you get comfortable with him. Slowly, you feel you two falling back onto the bed, and once you hit the mattress, your laughter dances together between the small walls, dominating the prior tenseness in the room with its silly, loving aura.

He pulls away from the embrace to smile at you, thumb wiping at your tear tracks. You grab his wrist gently, holding his large hand to your face. And you couldn’t help but blush when he stayed, smiling and staring at you.

You aren’t quite sure what time you fell asleep, but when you woke up, the discarded sweatshirt from earlier was laid across your body. The bright red numbers on your alarm clock read a staggering 3:24 AM, and you yawned as you sat up. Scooting up to your pillow, a piece of paper crinkled under your hand, and your stomach twisted and fluttered from the contents.

Had a wonderful time. We’ll figure this out.

Together.

Jimmy

Next to his name was a crudely drawn heart as yours couldn’t even begin to slow down its rapid pounding in your chest.

Taglist💕

@whoviancumberbunny @sojournmichael @peachesandfern @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @rosegoldrichie @hecohansen31 @ticklish-leafy-plant @wroteclassicaly @your-daddy-langdon @souriemickey @avesxtxnas

[queerchoicesblog]

The Graduation Gift (RoE, Mira x Jess)

This fanfic is part of the @choicesjulychallenge hosted by the soon-to-be-graduate @kinda-iconic! It's been a while since I last wrote Mira X Jess and I missed the only ship that kept me playing Roe. This fic is an ideal prequel to Hot Cocoa For Two, the one I wrote for the December Challenge.

In short, Jess finally graduates and Mira has a special gift in store for her girlfriend.

Prompt: Commitment

Word Count: 2003

Perma Tag: @brightpinkpeppercorn @melodyofgraves @bhavf @abunchofbadchoices @silverhawkenzie @begging-for-kamilah @kennaxval @strangerofbraidwood @crazypeanat @desiree-0816 @universallypizzataco

_________________________

"Hmpf"

Jess tossed and turned in the sheets as the light of a new sunny day hit her eyes. She blinked twice before finally resolving to open them. She hugged the pillow and inhaled the familiar scent of her favourite chef. Amber and other spices she couldn't name but that her heart immediately recognised as her "Mira, my Mira". Still cherishing that thought, she smiled to herself and rolled to the side and her eyes fell on Mira's nightstand where she spotted a book she kept gushing over for months...she remembered talking about it on Skype with her chef too. But she never told her that she actually bought it.

Jess moved closer and propped herself on her elbow to have a better look. She bit her lip as she opened it and saw that Mira used an Hartfeld postcard as a bookmark. A smile immediately formed on her lips as she recognised it: she sent her when she went back to college after Katie's wedding. She still remembered that day. Nicole and Audrey drove her back there -the salsa soundtrack they sang along with the whole ride haunted Jess for weeks -and helped her settle down. As soon as they left, she stopped by a souvenir shop and bought a postcard portraying the university quad with smiling students passing by. She went back to her dorm room and started writing it right away. When she finished, she remembered looking over her shoulder and since her roomie was nowhere to be found, grabbing her own lipstick, putting it on and pressing a kiss on the lower side. She immediately laughed at the silly, corny gesture picturing Mira's reaction: her Michelin-starred chef would have certainly either laughed it off or rolled her beautiful dark eyes at it. She sent it the day after on her way to class, as her heart tightened thinking that she would have not been able to see her girlfriend for a while and she missed her so much already. The bookmark was way past the half of the book, signalling that Mira devoted her days off to it. As she put it down, she made a mental note to ask her about it.

She was about to get up when she noticed the photos sitting beside the book. She sat up on the edge of the bed and her heart fluttered once more. In the first one Mira was standing knee deep in the ocean hugging from behind a visibly head over heels Saru. They must have taken it during the Portugal trip Mira mentioned once, judging by the Portuguese writings on the little boy's baseball hat. The sunset was already turning the sky of a dark red but you could still see the bright smile on Saru's face as his mom kissed the top of his head. The other one was a picture of her and Mira iceskating when she visited over the winter break. Blake and Carter joined too for "a former Nomande staff reunion" and they had such a great day: they drank cider, ate Christmas cookies and reminisced their time together on the Ember of the Sea. Then they went iceskating and that's when Carter started taking pictures and selfies while recklessly sliding trough the crowd. He even fell over Blake in a bad attempt to catch a surprise shot of him: the two ruined to the ground but couldn't stop giggling afterwards. The shot Mira framed must have been a lucky one: oblivious of the camera, they were just skating hand in hand smiling tenderly to each other. As if no one else was there, only the two of them.

Jess threw one last glance to the nightstand before moving to the bathroom to get a shower. When she was done, she headed to the kitchen following a mouthwatering lead.

"Goodmorning, sleepyhead"  

Mira greeted her with a smile behind the kitchen counter.

"Eggs Benedict ready in...five" she announced, checking her watch as Jess wrapped her arms around her waist and nuzzled her shoulder.

"You were already up when I woke up"

"Yep, because in case you haven't noticed, you slept in this morning" Mira gave her an amused look. "But you have every right to do so: you're a graduate, now!"

"It still feels so unreal..."

"Blake called earlier, work stuff you know...but he asked me to tell you once more that he's so proud of you" the chef turned and place a kiss on the top of Jess's head. "We're all so proud of you, baby"

"Thanks, it means a lot" Jess said as her cheeks started reddening.

She had never felt so supported and appreciated since she met the Nomade crew. And of course, Mira. They all had a rocky start but as they got to know each other, they became the best friends -and girlfriend- Jess could have ever asked for. Her family was supportive too but it took them a while to realise that she was more than bubbly reckless Jess. Blake, Carter and Mira were probably the first not to see her as the stereotypical party girl: she was their colleague, Jess "the waitress" to them when they first met. Then she became responsible hardworking Jess and it felt...just natural. As if somewhere they inside they trusted her - or so Jess loved to think, it didn't have to be necessarily true - to be more than just another troublemaker who forgot she wasn't a teen anymore. Just like Katie, Alex and Nicole thought for well, basically her whole life or so they made Jess believe. Probably, all "the party twin" needed was a little bit of trust, someone finally believing in her, someone believing that she had potential. Jess was eternally grateful to Nana for that: she was the first to see that spark in her. The only one in the famiy, to be honest.

"How's Blake doing? I should give him a call too later" Jess changed the topic to break free from that train of thoughts.

"Oh he's good! He -pass me two plate, sweetheart, the eggs are ready- he was telling me about this new idea for the menu. He discovered a new family recipe and wanted to share it to see if we can make something out of it. He thinks that it could make a good entrée and I must say I'm not against it" Mira explained, serving their brunch.

They moved to the terrace and took a seat at the table. They talked about the restaurant's slow yet steady success that made Mira and Blake have high hopes for the future, of Carter joining a new dance crew and of Saru's latest obsession with sharks and any merchandise item related to them: underwear, books, scale models, movies... Mira asked Jess about her upcoming internship in San Francisco at Lean Myers's magazine: Jess didn't think she would actually agree to have her when she contacted her, she did it out of admiration for the former film critic: her reviews on FilmBuzz always gave her the best movie advice ever.

Jess's phone suddenly beeped and she chuckled as she checked it.

"It's Alex" Jess giggled.

"What does he say?" Mira asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Tons of desperate emoji. It's getting worse with emoji lately...and...oh he's saying he's the worst brother ever cause he hasn't sent me the graduation gift he bought with Elena yet"

Jess smiled weakly at the phone.

"He said that he's so sorry that they couldn't make it to the graduation ceremony. It...it doesn't matter actually. They didn't have to worry about that and the gift, they're so busy..."

"No, he's right " Mira agreed, taking the last sip of her coffee. "Not about being the worst sibling ever maybe but his message reminds me that I have a thing for you"

Then she flashed Jess a smile and stood.

"Follow me" she said, offering her her hand.

Jess obliged and Mira led her back to her bedroom. She stopped on the threshold and turned to her girlfriend, who was looking around quizzically.

"Open the closet, Jess" Mira said, gently stroking her hair.

Jess gave her a confused look as she leaned at her touch but the look in her girlfriend's eyes only spoke of tender devotion.

She walked to the closet and opened it. To her surprise, since the last time she visited, Mira's clothes now took only half of it and half of the drawers were empty. In the first one she noticed a small envelope.

Jess gaped and turned to Mira who was leaning on the doorstep now and just nodded to signal her to proceed.

Jess opened it and a set of keys fell into her hands.

"Mira, what-" Jess covered her mouth with her free hand in surprise.

Mira moved closer and hugged her from behind. She placed a kiss on her temple before sighing and speaking again:

"I know we never really talked about it and I'm not asking you to move here with me right now, I know you're gonna start your internship in San Fransisco soon...but I don't want you to be just a visitor here. I missed you terribly when we parted and you left for school. It made me understand that I want you by my side. One day: you're starting your career and I don't expect it to happen in a week or a month, I want you to follow your dreams wherever they take you but I also want you to know that this is not only my place anymore. It can be yours too, it is yours too, no matter what. We decided to make it official, right?" a shy smile formed on her lips. "It just made sense to me: you'll be looking for a place to stay after your internship or maybe during holidays...just know that you can call this home, love"

Jess turned in her arms to look into Mira's eyes only to find the affection and adoration her favorite chef showed her more than once already. She didn't have to think twice: she threw her arms around her neck and pulled Mira in for a hard kiss as her eyes welled with happy tears. After the initial surprise, she returned it letting her hands slide oh Jess' hips.

When they parted, Jess buried her face in the crook of Mira's neck.

"Is that a yes?" the older woman laughed nuzzling her hair.

"Yes, ten thousand time yes! This...this is the best graduation gift ever. The best gift I have ever received in my whole life, Mira. I...I love you"

"I love you too"

"I just don't get it...why an hamburger? It doesn't sound like you" Jess asked, nodding to the keychain.

"You didn't figure it out, did you, graduate?" Mira teased her smirking.

"Hey, I earned my degree!" Jess protested.

Mira laughed softly.

"One day back at the Normade you told me to serve hamburgers instead of the dishes Blake and I put on the menu. You literally shocked me but in the end you were right: the clients were happy and returned the day after willing to try more complex food combinations. I learnt a thing from you that night and well, I may be studying a new addition to our restaurant's menu: I want to make an hamburger everyone would eat but special, experimental, something unique. I promise that you will try it before everyone else so you can tell me what you think. If it's not too corny, I would love to dedicate it to you"

"You really want to make me cry again, huh?" Jess embraced her again, making Mira smile softly as a he stroke Jess's back.

"Oh and that way we can have matching key chains. Well, almost" she added.

"You have an hamburger keychain too?" Jess gaped, not expecting anything like that.

"Oh no, mine has two charms: the Eiffel Tower and a bottle of champagne, but I would love to add a little hamburger" she giggled.

[wellamarke]

i finally saw stranger things 3 and i have thoughts that i will break down by character ((they are not very deep thoughts, they are mostly love)) 

first, the kids

1. my beautiful son, will byers, for once did not have a hell ride of a season and got to smile a couple times. he took a bit of a back seat really, and i feel sorry for noah schnapp for all the ‘neck scratching’ memes he’ll be buried in now that it was basically his signature move for 8 episodes (and not even a particularly useful one) but anyway... the destruction of castle byers was one of the most heartbreaking scenes and i would have liked to see more fallout from it, but we can’t have everything. mike’s ‘it’s not my fault you don’t like girls’ line? eiiiish can we get some follow up in s4 please. (it might not be your fault mike but you’re involved lmao) so anyway. glad will got a breather season, but man when he was crying so much in the goodbye scene, i felt that. could not cope. 

2. lucas!!!!!!!! my treasured son!!!! i love him so much. he was such a hero this season! he is always down to fight with his catapult and i adore him. i love what a terrible casanova he makes. i wish there had been some kind of glimpse of him looking after max after she watched her brother die, because that’s a complicated thing for those two. but s4 awaits. i would love to see lucas take a more central role in s4, incidentally. in terms of the boys, s1 was mike’s time to shine, s2 was will’s, s3 was arguably dustin since he got the most time away from the group? s4 lucas please and thank you 

3. my angel daughter max, i love her, she’s so brave and brilliant, and she is such a good friend to el, and although billy-as-he-was didn’t deserve her, she was a good sister, too. i worry about her a lot. lucas and max better be the front and centre couple of s4, i swear. it’s their time. let them. i guess i was a little confused at first at how much max’s style changed between seasons, but i support her always, and her clothes now are so happy and cute. she’s adorable. now somebody please make sure she’s alright. where is her mom 

4. dustin, light of my life, he is a good child and i am proud of him! i have always related to dustin’s position in the friend group lmao so to see him off with his own little crew was very adorable. i love him as both steve and robin’s child and steve and robin’s parent. he is so resourceful and i love that they finally utilised gaten’s angel voice! i was so glad suzie turned out to be real and plot-relevant (kinda), please can she come for a visit in s4? thank you. 

5. eleven, my daughter, my small small child, she broke my heart so much this season and i am so proud of her for finding herself. her s4 arc of regaining her powers will be very interesting and i’m excited for her and joyce’s relationship to be developed more, because i love them both. i really appreciated them going for the angle of ‘eleven needs to exist outside of mike’, partly because the way they were behaving at the beginning of the season did seem to make sense for kids their age with a connection like theirs, and it is healthier for them to.... not. at least sometimes. el is so hardcore, i love how her dialogue is still written a little stilted while still letting her express herself. she had so many iconic lines. i can’t believe they took hop away from her. also i’m a little disappointed (but not surprised) that there was no kali.

6. mike, my child, my gangly and adorable son, he was a joy this season (even when he was whinging). you know what killed me? how TALL he was when he hugged his mother at the end, especially compared to the s1 scene after will’s “body” is found. logically i know that these are actors who are growing up but it feels like an assault every time they flashback to their tiny s1 selves, and mike is just a giant now. bless him. he is a good boy who is trying his best. i don’t really understand why he didn’t tell el what hopper had said much earlier, but he’s a silly teenage boy, so, you know. it’s like that. 

7. erica my precious daughter, oh my goodness, i enjoyed her immensely. i’m so glad she’s properly part of the crew and is beginning to embrace the nerdy part of herself. icon. priah ferguson is an entire gemstone. when nancy etc graduate to the adult storylines and mike and co are the resident teens, erica will be the lynchpin of the new generation and i couldn’t be happier about that. 

now, the teens

1. nancy was so iconic this year, DAMN. this girl never rests and i love her. i’m glad the romantic drama was minimised, just enough to keep them interesting but not so you really worried she was going to pingpong back to steve or anything silly like that. nancy is such a role model truly. she’s so brave. my life, when billy’s car was hurtling towards her and she just stayed shooting. that’s my girl. (also, she’s so gorgeous. i feel like 80s fashion happened mainly so that natalia dyer could recreate it)

2. STEVE my sweet sweet son. again, an icon. i can’t believe they actually kept him in that sailor suit the whole season. what a national treasure. when he slammed billy’s car! i cheered. i’m very proud of the person he has become and his friendship with robin is just adorable. so glad that they will be able to discuss pretty girls together now that they work at the arcade. also, maybe he could make it to the end of s4 without cutting up his face, but that’s probably too much to ask, isn’t it? 

3. robin is my entire heart, i can’t even express how much i love this girl. she’s so clever and brave and wonderful and i can’t wait for her and will to share a scene (because cOME ON the solidarity!!!). i love her sarcasm and wit, and how she just jumps into the madness and gets stuff done. a queen. welcome to the family, robin. 

4. jonathan my boyyyyy, he was lovely this season, i was so proud of him when he took the situation in hand with el’s injury (even if she ended up doing the surgery herself!) i am excited for him to be el’s big brother as well as will’s (side note: el and will are sure to be the cutest siblings) and hopefully he and nancy can continue to navigate the stormy sea of being the teen flagship without too much on-again-off-again. we get it, they’re meant for each other. loved their moment with the scar at the end. 

5. oh, billy. i will admit, i felt bad for him a couple of times, and he certainly suffered enough, not that his treatment of lucas in s2 will ever be excused. dacre montgomery really gives the most, which makes billy weirdly watchable. i will never understand why they chose to bring back the karen wheeler stuff, brrrrrrr, but, yeah. i’m glad they didn’t exactly “redeem” him, but managed to kill him off while still adding depth. (he tried to save el and good on him for that, but in the end it was joyce who stopped the mindflayer, so). 

aaand the adults!

1. murray was a complete delight, and i was thrilled to have him along for the ride. i’m heartbroken that murray/alexei will not rise, because that had potential.

2. joyce was wonderful and hilarious and brave and heartbreaking and perfect, of course. i can’t believe they’ve now killed off BOTH her love interests (as far as she knows, anyway). that poor woman. i hope she can continue in her role of best mother ever, now that she has an extra traumatised child on her hands. joyce is the true mvp. the moral strength that woman has. the brains. the curiosity. she’s a way of life. 

3. hopper, where do i start. i actually didn’t like him much at the start of the season. i get that he hasn’t had a teenager before, but he seemed to take a little too much delight in petrifying mike, especially since he knew how much it would genuinely hurt el. that seemed a bit extreme for the sake of not wanting to give a corny speech. but anyway. this man is a true trooper. so many fight scenes. and we’re supposed to assume he’s not actually dead, right? the post-credits scene in russia was almost entirely pointless (big deal, they got a demogorgon) apart from the line, ‘no, not the american’... i mean, surely that’s hopper? surely? murray is unaccounted for in the time jump, i suppose, but no way he was captured and not joyce. both or neither. man, imagine the reunion with el and joyce, if hopper really isn’t dead. i’m going with he’s not dead. we never saw any remains. kudos for still making his apparent demise pack a whole punch, though. that letter destroyed me. 

other things:

1. the turning-people-into-goo stuff was so horrifying, how do you even go about creating those visuals 

2. some of the fight scenes i kind of let happen without really watching, and just came back to see who was still upright by the end, how do people watch this stuff

3. joyce didn’t decorate her house :( in fact the magnets undecorated themselves, as a forerunner to the entire house being stripped.... wow....

4. mr clarke is an absolute beaut and i love the way he was used (although it was strange not to have dustin included!)

5. i love love love how this show operates, with different teams finding different parts of the mystery and piecing it together under fire. i love how none of them ever go, “hey, we should tell the other people who are usually involved in this stuff, chances are they’ve got themselves into it this time around.” 

6. the byers’ dog is still unaccounted for 

[beesmygod]

this is what riverdale is about (part 6)

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

and now...we come to the end of our journey...the final 4 episodes of the season. who killed jason blossom? you forgot that’s what we were doing, huh. you  were way too distracted by sex archie and the jughead/betty relationship (called ‘bughead’ in universe). 

i have a friend who has been watching riverdale because i have basically tricked him into doing so and frankly, what i am typing here was and is only the surface of this show’s nonsense. as he watched episodes, he reminds me of all the completely bananas shit that this show throws at you literally every second it is on screen and honestly its a relief to know that, as much as i can try to just give you some basic facts, watching the show itself is still a totally different transcendent experience. its really the only show of its kind; shamelessly stupid but unaware of it while openly delighting in all the silliest cliches presented as straight faced as possible. if these write up do anything for you at all, please, please. watch the show. you will be shocked at how much more there is to discover.

images are from the riverdale wiki

---

SEASON 1 (PART 4): 

the lost weekend: this is the one with a very special guest star in it: molly ringwald as archie’s mom! she and fred (luke perry) have been separated for some amount of time for an unknown reason. yay she’s so cute! i love her. oh uh, also they’re getting a divorce. the papers are going through. archie gets the bad news in the middle of a gaming sesh with jughead.

meanwhile, veronica meets with her dad’s lawyer (whose name is paul sowerberry?? he never shows up again despite his unbelievably silly name) and tells him she’s not giving him a good statement as to her father’s character to help him get a lesser sentence. “fuck you dad!” is the general sentiment before she stomps out to go to school.

oh man there’s a weird aspect of this show that i have neglected to mention. this isn’t something i’ve ever experienced in school so it was totally foreign and weird to me but the students have their own lounge that they mingle and talk in...at...some point during the school day?? jughead’s opening monologue of this episode makes great pains to talk about how every moment of their lives are scheduled from 8am to 3pm but there’s apparently plenty of sittin’ time where they can just laze about this random room talking about crimes they have or are going to commit. a great deal of talking happens in this room when usually you’d have to like, sneak a convo while getting shit out of your locker between classes. i dunno, it’s weird. this is where archie tells veronica about clifford blossom sending her dad to jail so he can jack the land everyone is fighting over.

archie and betty make plans to celebrate jugheads birthday by taking him to the movies, which i feel like is in poor taste given his movie house was just destroyed but whatever. with betty coming along it’ll be just like the three muskateers! betty replies “AcTuAlLy ThErE wErE fOuR mUsKeTeErS” and somehow he doesn’t beat her to death with his bookbag right there and then. betty then doubles down on the bad words flowing out of her mouth and proposes they hold a surprise party for jughead since, according to his dad, he’s never had one. i have no idea what would compel her to think he would want this. even i know he doesn’t want this and i only know him through a tv screen. on top of this she goes out of her way to invite his deadbeat alcoholic dad multiple times. i thought she was supposed to be the smart, observant nancy drew type but like...what the fuck betty. jughead does, in fact, get pretty pissed at archie just for telling his girlfriend that he even has a birthday. presumably instead of telling him he emerged fully formed from the leader of the black parade’s forehead.

after finding out from some files that her dad was receiving money monthly from clifford blossom for some unspecified reason before the arrest, veronica challenges cheryl to a dance off and wins. unfortunately, veronica cant come forward with what she knows because it would make it look like her dad put a hit out on jason in retaliation. dance off to relieve the pain.

jughead fucking hates his party and makes sure everyone knows it. this is something NORMAL people do and he is NOT normal!!! he leaves the party in a huff when cheryl shows up to get her dance off revenge by ruining the party by inviting the whole school. this is the episode where he does his famous “im a weirdo, i have a hat” speech, which is deliciously dumb. they get in a fight, while jughead’s dad talks to kevin’s boyfriend (who you will remember is a member of his gang he assigned to keep tabs on the progress of the teens looking into the whole land plot mess) while betty’s mom secretly listens in?!

cheryl activates chaos mode and locks everyone in the house so they can play a game called “secrets and sins” which is really just an excuse for her to ask everyone horrible questions to make them feel bad. veronica accuses cheryl of fucking her brother, dilton doiley tells everyone about grundy’s statutory rape of archie andrews and chuck tells everyone about dark mode betty drugging him for an impromptu bdsm session which causes jughead to go apeshit and try to throw a weak little baby punch. jughead’s dad, as the only adult who for some reason let all this happen, finally throws everyone out and tells them to go home.

archie and veronica sleep together, by which i mean, next to each other in the same room. veronica testifies on her father’s behalf and discloses to betty the link between jugheads dad and the serpents and her dad’s land plot dreams. molly ringwald appears for 20 seconds.

INHALES. OKAY.

to riverdale and back again: its homecoming babey! archie’s very supportive mother has a nice talk with him. :) veronica founds out that her dad only has to serve “a few more months” in prison for his various white collar crimes, further proof that riverdale takes place in america. jughead and his dad have a nice normal breakfast while fp sweats and asks him “hey uh, how come uh you’re writing about the uhhhh murder and investigating it and stuff” like a normal dad would. archie and veronica tentatively agree to start going out. 

penelopy blossom brings polly (betty’s pregnant sister, remember her? i didn’t) a strawberry milkshake in the most ominous way possible. veronica plans to sneakily find out if jughead’s dad is helping her own and for what purpose, ultimately. jughead accepts and invite to betty’s house for dinner, not knowing her mom is going to grill the shit out of him and his dad over the whole kid murder thing.

polly finds the ring jason proposed to her with back in penelope’s room while snooping, and has no idea how it wound up back in the hands of his mother. according to penelope, jason threw it in their face when he renounced his lineage, then gives her another milkshake.

the cooper family event is disrupted when betty, wise to her mother’s horseshit, invites her estranged dad to dinner too. all hell breaks loose when the subject of homecoming comes up and fp reveals that while alice and hal were crowned homecoming king and queen, they got in a knockout, drag-out fight backstage. alice flips out before he can reveal what it was about and betty and jughead flee for the dance. meanwhile archie and veronica try, and fail, to find something incriminating in fp’s trailer.

cheryl discovers the milkshakes are DRUGGED and polly is going to sleep through homecoming. she informs her parents that she has disposed of the ring (evidence) and they dont have to worry about it anymore. you can see where this is going.

jughead’s dad drops a bomb on him right before homecoming that they’re going to move to toledo to meet up with jughead’s mom and baby sister. jughead hates this bc he just got used to betty and he wants to write his murder book.

archie and veronica sing a truly terrible cover of “kids in america” that has to be seen to be believed.

meanwhile, sherrif keller tears up fp’s house with a search warrant and finds the gun that was used to kill jason blossom. WHAAAA??? BUT ARCHIE AND VERONICA JUST SEARCHED IT??? how could this happen.....jughead finds out about the web of deception weaved by the friends and tells them all to fuck off so he can go to toledo with his family. jughead literally turns around and is informed that his dad was just arrested for murder. his life is so hilariously bad.

the sheriff sucks so bad at his job because he tells his gay son everything who then spills the beans to archie and co (sans jughead) who learn that fp is being framed, because they already tossed the place before.

cheryl has the ring. at this point none of these things mean anything.

i cant believe i still have two more of these. i’m going to have to split this post after this one.

anatomy of a murder: as it turns out, archie discovers, information you discover during a breaking and entering won’t hold up in court. oops. meanwhile fp inexplicably confesses to kidnapping jason after his fake drowning at sweetwater river so he could use him as ransom after discovering he heir to all that sweet maple syrup money. according to fp, jason nearly escaped so they cut their losses and blasted a hole in him. he also confesses to torching the car and stealing the sheriff's files (which we, the audience, know hal cooper did, not fp). well. that’s that, i guess.

betty’s dad comes back to the family home to destroy the murderboard evidence all like “whoo hoo! fp took a bullet for me!” hal’s concern and his reason for stealing the files in the first place, as it turns out, was because the feud between the coopers and the blossoms is more complicated than we thought. the coopers WERE blossoms, until grand-pappy was murdered, so they packed their shit and left with a new name. so that makes polly and jason related. cool!

fp apparently used his his last phone call to call kevin’s boyfriend who, after some pressing by the gang, admits that while he didnt see fp pull the trigger, he did help him put jason’s body in a freezer. this tip leads them to the corpse of a serpent who had a sack of money in a monogrammed dufflebag with the initials “h.l.” (hiram lodge). this is a comically dumb move for a crime boss to make. it is shockingly stupid.

joaquin tells kevin about a secret stash he and fp set up before he bounces from town forever because riverdale sucks. in the stash is jason’s jacket. everyone puzzles over what it means until betty, noted brain genius checks the pockets. in it they find a usb drive.

they sit down and watch the usb and react like they’re watching a sad documentary and not a snuff film. betty calls CHERYL OF ALL PEOPLE and tells her what they just saw on the usb. cheryl, queen of chaos, confronts her dad and tells him that everyone knows what he did.

it turns out the video depicts jason tied up in the basement of the whyte wyrm, there the dead serpent watches over him. clifford blossom walks in and blows a hole in his kid. fp confessed to protect jughead, who was threatened by cliff as the heat poured on.

clifford dies surrounded by his greatest love, maple syrup, by hanging himself in the syrup barn. lol

the sweet hereafter: how the fuck is there another episode of this? they solved the murder, what else could there possibly be to do. wtf. anyway.

the cops find hella drugs in the maple barn after clifford’s death. the assumed story is that jason learned about his dad’s heroin smuggling business and threatened to tell the cops on his dad which lead to his abduction, and eventual death. i guess the polly thing is in here too somehow. not important i guess. the lodges prepare for hiram’s arrival. betty and archie are going to be honored by the mayor for cracking the case at the 75th annual jubilee (wtf). hermoine attempts to buy fred out of the project now that the cops are cracking down on the serpents and making them the face of the construction company is now a very bad look.

betty tries to write an article for the town paper about fp being innocent but her parents wont publish it, citing it as a conflict of interest given she’s smooching the subject’s son. jughead FINALLY JUT NOW gets a social worker who realizes that fred has a dui and is not fit to care for a kid. he has to transfer to a new school district...SOUTHSIDE HIGH SCHOOL!!!

cheryl apologizes for throwing hands at jughead in a previous ep and gives him her iconic spider brooch. i am only bringing this up because she says, specifically, that selling it will net him a good amount of hamburgers and “s t-shirts” for years. why is she the only one who notices he only wears one kind of shirt. betty’s article getting published in the school paper leads to the above retaliation.

veronica’s mom honest to god asks her to sexually manipulate archie into convincing his dad to sell the project to her.

betty’s mom, after a confrontation, tells betty abt the fight she and her dad had on homecoming night when they were high schoolers. turns out...alice was pregnant. she gave the baby up for adoption after she went to the sisters of quiet mercy, like she did with polly, even though hal wanted an abortion. betty immediately tells all her friends this shit.

jughead transfers to the new high and flourishes. turns out they’re all baby gangsters there so they look at him and his dad as kings to be admired. when the archie group heads off to go rescue him, it turns out they dont need to do anything. but now that theyre all conveniently together, veronica gets a txt from cheryl saying she’s going to go be with jason....

they rush to the river where cheryl is having her ophelia meltdown in his stupid little river boat dress where she punches through the ice until she falls through. theres no way to describe how silly this scene is unless you see it so i won’t try but its so melodramatic and cheesy that youre going to be amazed that it got through the writing team at all. archie saves her by punching through the ice the other way. from under the ice. you will soon find, that all of archie’s solutions are to punch things.

betty does a speech at the jubilee that convinces fred not to sell. a nice ending for him.

meanwhile cheryl burns her fucking house down for a lark. just for the drama of it all. 

the same night, jughead and betty start to fuck, as do veronica and archie. not int he same room, like totally separately. but jughead is interrupted by the serpents and a dog named hotdog, who give him a jacket of his own so he can join the team. betty is scandalized.

archie goes to meet his father for a breakfast at pop’s chocklit shoppe for a serious talk. but while he’s int he bathroom, a man with a gun is holding up the chocklit shoppe. he demands fred’s wallet, then pops a hole in him and runs off.

and that.........is where this season......ends.

---

thank you for joining me for season 1 of this shitshow. i love this shitty show. if you loved reading about it, or were mortified by whatever the fuck happened here, then you should watch it as well.

i never pass up an opportunity to shill myself, so if you like what i write, drop me a buck or two at my patreon. i do more writing like this, but also i mostly make comics, so make sure to read the page when you’re signing up so you know what you’re getting!

i WILL return...with season...2!

https://www.patreon.com/aghoststory

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Christmas 2019: Day 9 - The Christmas Hope (2009)

On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...

Nine months of gestation!

On reflection, I can see that the past two entries on this years list have been a bit of a downer. Far too centered in talk of mental illness, depression and the like. Let’s perk things up a bit with...*checks notes*...shit.

Right now millions of people across the planet (or galaxy as it were) are enjoying/not enjoying the end to a very different cinematic trilogy. Me? I have a long overdue wrap up to attend to that started many moons ago thanks to a certain little film about a certain pair of shoes based on a certain song. Quite why I’m doing this know I don’t know. I can only suspect that I’ve seen one too many reflective social media posts now that we’re reaching both the end of a year and decade, perhaps I’m subconsciously wanted to sort out unfinished business, hence looking at stuff like this, Christmas Story Live and the Christmas Carol Musical.

The movie starts with Traci here recording herself singing a song before commenting ‘American Idol here I come!’. The camera pans all through her house looking at pictures of her daughter, soppy picture frames with ‘I LOVE YOU MOMMY’ written on them and no sign of a boyfriend/husband so she has the basis for a feel good story if she does make it on. Might need to jazz it up somewhere along the line if we’re to really tug at the audiences heartstrings but it’s a start. This actress would go on to play Vicky in the live action Fairly Odd Parents movies so that’s another tie in to a previous entry. Apparently there’s a third one of those and I’m not sure if I’ve seen it.

She literally runs into a couple on her way to work, knocking their teddy bear to the floor which they graciously give to her when she mentions that her daughter would love it. This is Nathan and Megan from The Christmas Blessing, sadly both recast. Actually, maybe that’s a good thing. Not sure I’d be able to take NPH seriously after all those H&K movies recently. Nathan is a bit more of a ginger this time around, rather than the dirty blonde thing NPH has going on. Megan is expecting and they have about a bajillion teddies so they don’t mind passing one along. Hey, someone probably got you that as a gift. Be grateful!

Meanwhile, the police arrest a drug dealer and find she has a malnourished baby in her apartment so in swoop child services to save the day.

Mr. T feels your pain.

I hope you weren’t getting too attached to Traci by the way because about fifteen minutes into the film, shortly after making a heartfelt promise to her daughter that they were going to decorate the Christmas tree once she got home from work and that she had a very special present for her this year, she promptly gets run over.

Have you ever crossed the road, and looked the wrong way? A car's nearly on you? So what do you do? Something very silly; you freeze. Your life doesn't flash before you, cause you're too fucking scared to think, you just freeze and pull a stupid face.

I know I shouldn’t be surprised given this is one of those melodramatic, Hallmark movies and this whole series has been overly morbid up to this point but it still kinda threw me. Here we are all nice and happy, Traci’s going about her day and there’s a nice Christian, soft rock Christmas ballad playing in the background and then BOOM, SUV to the face.

Then it cuts to her daughter, Emily, going through the Christmas decorations before settling on a angel which she ponders on for a moment before looking to the heavens as she’s having this moment of intuition.

But when child services pop their head in again to take her away, they find that all their usual helpers are fully booked for the holidays so what else can they do? One of the workers, Patricia, has no choice but to take her home. It’s not by the book but, damnit, it’s Christmas and we’re going to give this kid some degree of stability. By sheer coincidence, Patricia happens to be the mother of one Sean Addision who was the kid that died following a car accident the start of Christmas Blessing which caused Nathan to have his Dr Cox crisis of confidence moment. These movies are just ridiculous to how everyone's lives are so intertwined.

Like, up to this point, we met Traci who then bumped into Nathan and Megan, before going to work and having a young, troubled teen skip out on his bill but Patricia was in at the same time and tipped really generously to make up for it. That same kid then pretty much steals her bag following accident and also knew Sean who was mentoring him in one of those Big Brother mentoring programs.

Patricia’s husband, Mark, is played by James Remar, he of The Warriors fame and, more pertinent to this blog, he was in the Miracle on 34th Street remake and one of the segments in the Tales from the Darkside movie. Theirs is a very frosty relationship currently owing to the death of Sean, there’s no sense of chemistry between these two and I’m surprised they’re actually as close in age as they are, Remar only 4 years older. Feels like there’s more of like a 10-20 year gap. He gets on very well with Emily though, they have this instant rapport whilst Patricia is more distant which is understandable. She obviously has to keep things professional as she can’t get too attached to these kids and doesn’t want them getting attached to her, plus there’s probably ongoing issues from Sean’s death, maybe she’s not prepared to slip back into that motherly role again. Which you can tell by that dinner she serves; rolls of wafer thin ham, cherry tomatoes, carrot sticks and celery? That’s just what all the kids want.

At least she’ll read Emily a bedtime story, ‘I’ll Love You Forever’ which documents a mother who sings to her song that she’ll love him forever, even when he becomes a rebellious teenager who thinks it’s lame for her to do that. This leads to the very strange visual of him cradiling her in his arms on a rocking chair and singing it to her when she’s old and frail, a mirror image of how she first sang to him when he was a baby. This really hits Patricia in the feels as she felt distant from Sean as he seemed closer to his father, wanting to impress him by picking the sports and classes he thought his father wanted him to take. She even seems to partly blame her husband for their sons death as he switched around his work schedule to come home early for Christmas, which in turn led to Sean coming home early too. If he’d just come home on the day he intended this never would have happened! That seems grossly unfair. Even when she passed along a family heirloom in the form of her fathers watch, he was unimpressed and even managed to break it whilst horsing around with a friend in his room.

The massively tangled web of these characters comes into play again when Megan is going through some things and finds an old Christmas gift which sends Nathan into some sort of Nam flashback. Turns out Sean was holding it as he was wheeled into the hospital and Nathan had taken it upon himself to make sure it found its way to its intended destination but he just forgot about it over the years. I actually went back to check this and ,yeah, that is in the previous movie. I had this whole thing pegged as just a series of independent stories with loose connections throughout but no, apparently they had whole plot points planned out in advance.

Nathan and Patricia do interact several times as she takes the crack baby to the hospital to be checked up. There’s this strange level of frustration akin to An American Tail where Nathan keeps getting little flashbacks in his head but he’s never quite able to connect the dots.

But of course he eventually does and the present turns out to be, say it with me now, the broken watch! Perhaps more meaningful though is the accompanying note which reveals Sean intended to study social work at college because he wanted to help kids just like his mom. This seems to serve as a form of closure for her but I feel like you could already start drawing that sort of conclusion. I mean, the guy was already in that Big Brother program so you were clearly already having some sort of influence on him.

Strike two of the big overly emotional finale comes when it’s suggested Emily puts the angel atop the tree which promptly makes her bolt out of the room. Everyone is left thinking they’ve upset her but she comes back clutching a picture which she wedges onto the tree, a picture not of her mother as I had suspected but of Sean. She says he is her angel and she feels like whenever she’s felt all alone, he’s been there to help here. Awww.

The big showstopper though is the troubled kid finally coming good and, after realising who everyone is in this story, returns Traci’s bag to the Addison home. Inside was her camera and on that camera was the video from the very start of the movie. Turns out she wrote that song as a Christmas gift for Emily.

Though, I feel the writers fell short of a grand slam here. Near the end, Nathan shares the story with Megan about giving the gift to Sean’s parents and how it gave him his own little bit of closure after how much Sean’s death affected him back then. Megan goes into labour shortly afterwards and I was fully expecting them to decide to call the baby Sean but no such luck.

Christmas Blessing was lacking a little bit in the big emotional ending so it feels like this one is making up for that and then some. It’s not as cheesy as that song from Christmas Shoes but still delivers that overly sentimental feeling. Again, it’s something I am loathed to admit but it got to me a little bit. This whole movie has that same morbid energy as the other two but in a slightly different way, the first two felt like you spent the entire movie watching people who were on deaths door before something happened at the end to soften the blow. Here they just give you the death right up front and everyone is left to cope with the aftermath and reflect on how deal with it. It’s like an encapsulation of everything that Nathan has gone through over these movies, facing death in his personal and professional life but coming to terms with it.

You know what’s bullshit though? No sign of the eponymous Christmas Shoes anywhere. They’re even in the box of stuff that Megan finds the old Christmas present in. How can you make this your big conclusion and not bring them back? You brought them back the last one, you couldn’t have Megan tag along and give them to Emily at the end as some sort of passing of the torch? It was her destiny, Nathan got them for his dead mother, Charlie got them for his dead mother, those shoes have been robbed of their purpose in life.