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andypantsx3 · 4 months

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READY OR KNOT | 2 | TODOROKI SHOUTO x READER

SUMMARY: Todoroki Shouto is so unsettlingly beautiful, you’re certain he has to be an omega. That is, until a chance encounter with a pushy alpha reveals you were incredibly mistaken—and the surprises don’t stop there. Shouto's suddenly mystifying behavior adds another layer of complexity to an already confusing inter-agency investigation. It would be so much easier to figure things out—and suppress your growing feelings—if only Shouto would stop being so strangely attentive to you... TAGS/WARNINGS: pro hero au, fem + afab reader, omegaverse, alpha shouto, beta reader, misunderstandings, courting behavior, slightly case fic-y, undertones of sexual violence (not between main pairing), aged-up characters, eventual smut, 18+ minors please dni! LENGTH: 4.9k, 2nd of 7 chapters

It turned out it was not so easy to forget what had happened with Shouto. Especially when Monday morning rolled around, and with it, some very pressing questions about the party.

Mina found you first thing in the morning, already up to your eyeballs in the case file at your desk. A frown marred her pretty mouth as she rounded the corner into the case analyst area. She neatly dodged your deskmate’s ginormous stack of paperwork, nearly as tall as she was, eyes homing in on you like dark little missiles.

“I heard about what happened with Suzuki,” she said, looking you over with uncharacteristic concern. Her eyebrows were drawn, her features pinched. It was an expression that didn’t overtake her cheerful visage all too often. “Are you okay?”

You blinked up at her, the name escaping you for a moment, until you matched it up with the support alpha from the party on Friday. Your lips downturned in reflexive distaste.

“I’m fine. You must have heard that Shouto scared him off,” you answered. “All he really managed to do was imply some stuff.”

Mina’s eyebrow twitched, like she had more questions on that, but she dutifully adhered to the matter at hand first. “I did hear that and we are going to be discussing that in a second. But that doesn’t mean you’d still be okay with everything that did happen. I’ve got a meeting with HR about Suzuki this afternoon, and I’m thinking of firing him.”

You jolted, a quick pang of guilt striking through you. Firing him. That seemed a very intense option.

You thought Suzuki was an asshole, sure, and you remembered all too well the horror that had overtaken you as he’d reached for his belt. But you also knew he had been drunk out of his mind—drunk enough that he thought you were an omega of all things, somehow perceiving things that weren’t even there.

You’d thought about it a lot this weekend, running over the events in your mind, and while the whole incident left a sour taste in your mouth, you thought Suzuki probably had been close to alcohol poisoning considering how strongly he smelled of Tetsutetsu’s horrible drink. He wasn’t exactly sound of mind, the lines a little blurry.

You’d never waylaid anyone like that while intoxicated, but you had done and said your fair share of things you regretted when you’d sobered up. You didn’t know what to think.

You looked up at Mina, finding her watching you consideringly. “No?” she asked.

You scrubbed a hand over your face, unclear what the right thing was. “I saw him and he was like, really not all there, Mina. I think he should be punished for sure, but what if you gave him a warning that if this happens at all again, he’s gone?”

One of Mina’s eyebrows arched. “Shouto said he was holding you against the wall even after you said no.”

You could feel your nostrils flare in anger at the memory, the feeling of that hand against the wet patch on your shoulder, unbudging.

“He did, but he also thought I was an omega, Mina,” you said. “I think he was close to alcohol poisoning, actually. He hasn’t caused any other trouble like this, has he?”

Mina shook that head of wild pink curls. “No, he’s been a model employee thus far. But I still don’t like it. That’s not what the Pink Riot agency is.”

A sigh filled your lungs. The support of Mina and Kirishima was enough for now. “I don’t like it either. But he was drunk, and nothing did actually happen, thanks to Shouto. Give him a warning that any other tiny slip up means firing, and I will be satisfied.”

Mina looked hesitant, dark eyes searching over your face, but eventually she sighed, shrugging her shoulders. “Fine. Once and only because you’ll need an accurate record from support in your investigation and it will be harder to get if he’s gone. But he will be fired if I hear even a whiff of a rumor again.” She paused. “And you’ll have to talk to Eiji, because he’s going to like this even less than I do.”

That wrung a smile out of you.

Kirishima was a good alpha and seemed to think of the agency almost like his pack. As easygoing as he was, he guarded his people resolutely, like a farm dog patrolling a chicken coop. You could almost imagine him standing at attention, head forward and tail pointed like an arrow.

As heartwarming as that image was, that didn’t mean you wanted to be the one to tell him though. You shook your head, throwing out your hands. “Oh no. Your alpha, your problem. The one privilege of my secondary gender is I’m not part of this shit.”

Mina clucked, sighing. “He is my problem.”

You laughed, knowing very well she’d know how to solve it. But her expression shifted, suddenly looking sly, and you realized she was about to saddle you with another problem.

“You’ll have to tell Shouto then,” she said, her voice deceptively light.

You blinked, eyebrows raising. Shouto…? “Why the heck would I need to tell Shouto?”

A grin slowly crept over Mina’s mouth, and she leaned in conspiratorially, looking altogether too pleased. Her hot pink nails settled on the edge of your desk, tapping delightedly. “Because he’s your assigned supervising hero. And you’ll be seeing him again in just a few minutes.”

A sudden flurry of butterflies erupted in your stomach, your mind flashing through the feeling of Shouto over you, tall and strong and warm, pressing you carefully to the wall. You could all but feel the whisper of those pretty eyelashes on your skin, feel his careful exhale, the brush of his mouth against your throat.

Your ears prickled with heat, and you could feel your face go slack in shock. He would be here—? In front of you again?

“He’s—what?” you garbled out, trying to dispel the phantom feeling of Shouto against you.

Mina looked downright smug. “He asked to be assigned right after I spoke to him at the party on Friday. Interesting, don’t you think?”

Heat licked at your cheeks. “Is it,” you managed tightly. “That’s… nice of him.”

“Very,” Mina agreed. “Especially since I heard about what happened after Suzuki left.”

You hated her.

“I’m a beta,” you reminded her, not liking the implication.

Mina’s dark eyes rolled. “Eiji liked me even when he thought I might present as a beta.”

“That’s different,” you told her, floored that you’d sidetracked into this so quickly. “I’m actually a beta. Also what the hell are we even talking about. This is a work case.”

Mina flapped a hand at you. “I’m sure you’ll both work it very hard, very thoroughly,” she said with no small amount of relish.

You seized the case file in question, holding it up between you like a shield, flapping it at her in turn. The manila folder flopped stiffly, the pages making a sort of wobbly sound. “Why are you like this,” you hissed.

Mina’s eyes glittered, and she opened her mouth to respond, when the soft tread of a boot in the hall made her perk up. Her grin went unholy. “Speak of the devil,” she said.

Shouto certainly did not look like the devil, as he rounded the corner. The fluorescent lighting made a sort of soft halo off the glossy strands of his distinct two-toned hair, and his features were just as angelic as you remembered—finely-wrought and almost deliberately formed, as though he were sculpture from the hands of a master. He was almost too beautiful to look at this early in the morning, and you felt your breath draw up short in your lungs.

He blinked when he saw you, those heterochromatic eyes widening nearly imperceptibly as he approached.

“Morning, Shouto-kun,” she purred. You hated her.

“Good morning,” he said, his tone low and soft. Your fingers tightened on the file folder, bracing yourself against the loveliness of the sound.

A flush rose to your cheeks as you did so, and Shouto’s eyes followed you curiously. Beneath the high collar of his hero uniform, you could just glimpse a flash of his scent patches, neatly placed as usual. You wondered absently what he would smell like if you peeled them back and leaned in close. As a beta, your nose was not as good as the other genders, but if you got in close enough, and if Shouto’s scent was strong enough, you’d probably be able to tell.

He looked like he’d smell delicious.

A cackle from Mina alerted you to the horrifying fact that you’d just been staring at Shouto as he approached, mouth open and expression vacant.

“Uh… good morning,” you managed.

The corner of Shouto’s mouth quirked up, and something beneath your skin tingled in response.

“I hope you are well,” he murmured.

You could see Mina’s eyes darting back and forth between the two of you with barely suppressed glee, and a sudden bolt of shame went through you.

Just because it was super obvious how hot you found Shouto didn’t mean he felt the same. He was a fucking pro hero for crying out loud. Rescuing people was what he did—the save on Friday did not have to mean anything.

Plus, knowing for sure that he was an alpha had closed the window on your little celebrity crush. Out of the hundreds of couples you’d met in your lifetime, you’d only ever met one alpha-beta pairing—both tradition and biology seemed to win out in almost all mated pairs, alphas and omegas unable to help their inherent attraction to one another.

And with that in mind, it was actually super disrespectful of you to even think about this impending partnership in any terms less-than-professional.

You rallied yourself, inclining your head respectfully to Shouto, gesturing with the case file in your hands.

“Yep, I’m good. I’m grateful for the save and I’m sure I’ll be even more grateful for your help on this case.” You turned to your boss, routing her back on track. “Mina, what information have you shared and what do I need to get him up to speed on?”

Mina’s pout was so defined it could be seen from space. You ignored her, raising your eyebrows.

“I only put the call out to other agency heads for a supervising out-of-agency hero. Just that it’s an omega assault case possibly involving a pro, and your name as the lead investigator.”

Your gaze returned to Shouto. He was still watching you intently.

“How much time do you have before you’re needed back at your agency?” you asked him. “Do you want to grab a conference room and I’ll get you up to speed? I’m sure Mina has a lot to do just now.”

He nodded, his hair falling into his eyes in a way that should not have wrung the oxygen out of the atmosphere, but did. “I am on patrol after lunch, but I’ve asked that my schedule be cleared until then.”

Perfect. Plenty of time. You stood, hefting the case file with you, clearly dismissing Mina, who looked put out.

“Great, I’ll show you to the conference room then,” you said. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Mina flashing you a pink finger, and you could easily guess which one. You stuck out your tongue at her as you passed Shouto so he couldn’t see, not above pettiness.

You gestured Shouto into one of the smaller rooms across the floor with especially good soundproofing, holding the door open for him. You sucked in a breath as he brushed past you, trying not to admire how tall and broad he was, the way those shoulders spanned the breadth of the doorway.

Shouto took a seat and you spread the case file out before him, trying not to look down at him as he glanced up at you. His fingers twitched on the conference table, like he was holding them in place. You carefully retreated to a safer distance, hoping you hadn’t annoyed him.

“Okay so the basic brief is as Mina said. There have been multiple reports of a suspected pro harassing omegas late at night in Bunkyo. Initially they were identified as a masked male wearing scent patches, roughly five foot ten, always wearing some dark jacket. But the suspected hero element came into play late last week when they attempted to strap quirk suppressors on their target. The omega in question had a vapor quirk so she was able to dissolve and escape before he did.”

Shouto’s eyes tracked you as you spoke, solemn and attentive.

“So far the suspect has not shown any signs of a quirk himself, and without any scent ID it’s hard to know what secondary gender to look for. Our best option is to work the possible-pro-hero angle and rule out who we can, since that’s all the identifiable detail we have on this guy at this time.”

Shouto nodded, propping an elbow on the table. You tried to ignore how even that small gesture made him look like a center spread in Heroes Illustrated.

“I’d like to read the individual reports and hear your plan once I have,” Shouto said.

You perked up, pleased with the terms he was speaking in. A good case analyst always had at least a sketch of a plan—what order to speak to specific people in, which angles had highest priority of investigation, and how the labor could be divided and work double-checked.

Most heroes were people of action and hated having to be corralled into approaching cases like some sort of assignment, instead of busting in and blowing things apart. But it was the best way to make sure all avenues were investigated thoroughly and that work was peer-reviewed in case someone missed something.

Shouto’s phraseology told you he was familiar with approaching cases like this, meaning he probably listened to the Todoroki agency analysts. You’d never worked closely enough with him before to know, only trading high-level information back and forth on a couple of joint cases, presenting findings in a meeting room stuffed full of Pink Riot and Todoroki agency heroes.

You found yourself smiling faintly.

“I’ll get you some coffee while you read. Everything is in chronological order in the file and I’ve tabulated some notes,” you said. “How do you take yours?”

Shouto’s gaze slid over you, careful and assessing. He paused. “I’ve been told I should not share that information.”

Your eyebrows went up. “Your… coffee order?”

Shouto nodded seriously. “Bakugou says it’s disgusting and embarrassing.”

Bakugou—pro hero Dynamight, that was—was Kirishima’s best friend, a loud alpha of an explosive manner and incendiary opinions who often showed up unprompted at the agency to stomp around and mean mug, all the while hiding that he was attempting to press leftovers on Kiri and Mina. You laughed, curious what Bakugou had browbeaten another pro over.

“Your secret will be safe with me,” you said coaxingly.

Shouto blinked, mouth quirking slightly again. He looked like he genuinely liked the idea of that, and your stomach fluttered in response.

Of course then he opened his mouth and provided a rundown of the inhumanly numerous sugars and syrups he liked, such that it constituted more of a soft drink than a coffee order. You tried to keep your eyebrows from creeping up into your hairline, smothering a laugh.

That was so unexpectedly cute. Especially for an alpha.

“One coma-inducing order of sugar with a splash of coffee, coming right up,” you saluted him.

He did something with his face that was a cross between a tiny smile and a pout, and you threw yourself out the door before you dissolved into a puddle of goop.

You went down to the cafe that operated out of the ground floor of the Pink Riot building, a favorite lunch spot of most of the heroes for how enormous their sandwiches were. The order took a fair few minutes, as it took the barista a good while to pump in the zillions of requested syrups, his eyebrows raised nearly to the moon as you recited them.

When you returned to the conference room, Shouto was already well into the case file. He glanced up as you entered, those heterochromatic eyes pinning you with an unexpected intensity. You started, wondering if you’d done something wrong.

But then his mouth slid into another tiny smile, and he looked so genuinely pleased to see you—or the coffee cup—you found yourself helplessly smiling back.

After depositing his cup next to him, you fetched your laptop and emailed Shouto’s agency the case files while he read. You wrote up the preliminary notes you’d been able to pull together on the case—a list of three agency heroes whose exact whereabouts had been accounted for during one or more of the incidents, who were therefore not on your list of possibilities.

Shouto was staring at you when you shook yourself out of work mode an hour later, quiet and intent. You startled, jumping in your seat.

“Oh my god—I’m sorry—did you say something? I didn’t mean to ignore you,” you said.

Shouto shook his head, another smile quirking that perfect mouth. That expression was growing familiar. “I have just finished,” he said.

A sense of relief washed over you. “Okay great. Did anything stick out to you that you think I’ve missed so far?”

“No,” he murmured. “Your work is very thorough. I would like to hear your plan.”

His tone was low, almost appreciative, and you tried not to let it go to your head.

“Okay, then we’ll begin with the active duty and equipment logs,” you told him. “I’m already through all of the duty logs available, but I still need the one from Thursday when the last incident happened—it’s supposed to be ready this afternoon. That will rule out a few heroes, and the equipment logs can tell us more about who had what out during the time of the attacks—I think we start with the heroes who had suppressors on them then.”

Shouto nodded, looking like he was following along. “You want to narrow the pool before you speak to anyone in case you arouse suspicion.”

You nodded, pleased he understood. “Yes.”

That blue and gray gaze nearly pinned you to your seat. “That is smart.”

A sudden wash of heat licked up your spine, pooling in your limbs. You struggled to keep your face neutral, your ears burning. “Th—thanks.”

“Who have you ruled out so far?” he asked.

You turned your screen to him, showing the notes you’d drawn up. “Kiri’s clear—no shock there—Tetsutetsu, and Tetsu’s sidekick who was with him on a cleanup during the first incident. I’m hoping Thursday’s log will clear at least one or two more.”

Shouto inclined his head in agreement. “And your interview plan?”

You smiled, and scrolled down to your notes on that, pleased at how he was letting you lead the investigation. He listened intently as you walked him through an outline, double-checking that everything worked with his schedule.

As you talked, he offered a few suggestions of his own, but he mostly seemed content to follow your outline—completely unlike even the most agreeable of the Pink Riot agency alphas. In fact it was so contradictory to everything you’d experienced thus far that you found your gaze darting to his scent patches over and over again, as if assessing whether they were really covering up an alpha scent.

But no—you had felt the pull of his Order under your skin on Friday. You, a beta, naturally resistant to Orders in the way omegas weren’t. And you’d gone so boneless against him, too, affected by his proximity in the most embarrassing way. Shouto was definitely an alpha, with that kind of pull—and probably a preternaturally strong one at that.

But he was also just—your eyes drifted to his coma-inducing coffee cup—kind of a strange one, too.

The two of you discussed the case for a few more minutes—until your stomach growled, loud enough to interrupt your planning, and the corner of Shouto’s lips lifted again.

“Would you like to finish up over lunch?” he asked, saving you the embarrassment of excusing yourself.

You grinned. “I think my stomach already answered for me,” you agreed.

Shouto helped you reorganize the paper files and lingered over you as you locked them into your desk cabinet, waiting for you patiently. Then he let you lead him downstairs to the cafe. You were conscientious of not standing too close to him in the elevator, all too aware of him in that tiny, enclosed space.

When you made it down to the ground floor, Shouto surprised you by steering you over to one of the tables, bidding you to sit.

“What do you enjoy here?” he asked, looking down at you expectantly. “I would like to get it for you.”

You shook your head. “Actually, I’m pretty sure I should be treating you for the save. How about you tell me what you want?”

Those heterochromatic eyes blinked down at you, and a tiny crease appeared between Shouto’s eyebrows. His mouth turned down. Against the subtlety of his expressions thus far, the look appeared almost distressed. “I insist,” he said, something strange in his tone.

“Shouto, really, I—-”

“I insist,” Shouto said, a little more firmly. There was the flicker of something strange under your skin again, like the tiny molecules of your body shifting in response to him.

You froze, startled, and your mouth opened for you before you realized what you were doing. “I—a pesto sandwich—”

You clamped your mouth shut, mystified.

But Shouto looked pleased. He smiled, wider than you had seen so far, a devastatingly handsome quarter-moon sliver that sent your pulse pounding in your ears. You watched him turn and walk off, something you might have said was almost smug in his step, had you known him better.

You sank into one of the seats, befuddled by what had just happened.

Shouto returned a few minutes later with water and an order number, placing the bottle in front of you like an offering. You regrouped, thanking him, then raised your eyebrows as he leaned forward, looking serious.

“I have been wanting to ask. Where does the alpha who harassed you work?” he asked, his tone dropping low. A strip of afternoon sunlight caught in his hair, dancing like flickering flames in the strands of scarlet, liming them in an orange glow.

He was beautiful in the sun, and it took you a minute to reroute your brain from his face to his question.

“Suzuki’s in support,” you said. “But Mina’s disciplining him, and I don’t have to see him often. I do expect he’ll behave after this. But why do you ask?”

Shouto frowned, leaning in closer. “Support maintains the equipment logs.”

It was the same at the Pink Riot agency too. “I—well, yes, but—”

“I should like to be there when you go to support,” Shouto said, catching your eye. His expression shifted into something solemn, his mouth a flat line.

You waved your hand dismissively. “I appreciate it, but don’t worry. He’s not gonna do anything, it’s literally just logs—”

“I must insist,” Shouto said again, his tone soft but unmistakably firm. His fingers flexed tightly where they rested on the edge of the table, the knuckle of his index turning white.

Despite yourself, his concern warmed you, that hot, tingly feeling heating your ears again.

“I really would be okay,” you said. “But if it means something—I’ll wait until tomorrow when you get here?”

Shouto nodded. “I would like that very much.”

A smile teased at your mouth. Now that was stereotypical alpha behavior, much as you appreciated his concern. Suzuki wasn’t going to jump you over a log file in a workplace—especially not after Mina had taken him to task. Shouto’s concern was unnecessary, but so very typical of an alpha. It felt familiar, like Kirishima’s brand of protectiveness over his tight knit agency, you thought. Harmless and well-intentioned.

A tray being placed on your table cut off any response you might have given, and your eyes blew wide as you registered the amount of food on it. Your mouth dropped open when a second tray was placed alongside the first one, the cafe worker smiling down at Shouto before she left, clearly recognizing him.

Shouto looked down at the food, his features arranged in minute shock.

“I do not remember ordering this…” he said, glancing at his receipt slip. You watched as his eyebrows furrowed slightly, that crease appearing between them again as his eyes flickered over the order. Then he cut himself off, those long eyelashes fluttering. “I… apologize.”

Apologize? Meaning, he had ordered this?

“You bought all this?” you asked, floored.

Shouto gave a tight nod. “It… would seem so.”

Your gaze picked over the trays again. They were piled high with at least six sandwiches, several pastries, a takeout container of soup, four different kinds of cookies, two fruit cups, and a handful of the granola bars they kept by the register. It was a literal mountain of food, and you sort of doubted even a pro hero could put that much away in one sitting.

“If you were so hungry we could have come down so much earlier,” you insisted, but Shouto’s embarrassed expression only deepened.

“It is… not for me,” he said slowly. It looked like it pained him to admit it.

You blinked, drawing back in your seat. “It’s…..me?”

Shouto nodded seriously.

A shocked laugh leapt out of you, bright and pleased. “Shouto, I was hungry but this is like, eleven meals!”

“You will have leftovers, then,” Shouto replied, sounding embarrassed. The tips of his ears were red where they peeked through his mop of multicolored hair.

You were so suddenly, utterly charmed by him, a splash of warmth pooling in your stomach, flooding through your limbs. You had absolutely no idea what had possessed him to do this, but it was undeniably sweet. Coupled with the easy way he’d let you take the lead on the investigation, and the way he’d moved to protect you on Friday night—it all painted a portrait of a very good, very kind sort of person.

You’d really lucked into a good partnership. You were grateful.

“Thank you, Shouto,” you said sincerely. A hint of a flush colored his high cheekbones, and he nodded.

You decided not to press him anymore, setting aside your speculation for when he’d gone. Instead, you unearthed your requested sandwich from the mound of food, and selecting a pastry at random. Shouto watched you as you bit into your food, a strange sort of intensity in his gaze.

Eventually, however, he took his own food, and the two of you chatted as you ate, moving on from the case to discuss his patrol, your shared friends, and a slew of other silly topics. You found him just as easy to talk to outside of case work—he had the same straightforward way of approaching life as he did his casework, his outlook consummately honest and thoughtful.

You regretted it when Shouto eventually had to excuse himself for patrol, but not before disappearing and reappearing with a takeout containers and a bag for all the things he’d ordered you, which he carefully but insistently packed away, before putting in front of you with a meaningful look.

You laughed again, taking the bag from him as you got up to make your way back upstairs as well.

“Thank you for lunch,” you told him, trying to convey how sincerely grateful you were. “I’m looking forward to our partnership.” You stuck out your hand to him, smiling up at him.

Shouto’s expression didn’t change much, but his mismatched gaze grew warmer where it rested on you. “As am I,” he said, tone soft.

Long fingers curled around yours, and for a moment you felt that same, weak-kneed desire to collapse against him as you had on Friday. It took an inordinate amount of focus to pump his hand in a handshake, and even more willpower to let him go.

You waved him off, and watched him go, feeling a strange sense of emptiness as that broad back disappeared through the door. In just a few short hours, it seemed, Todoroki Shouto had dug himself a comfortable little spot in your heart—far deeper than a case partner should have.

You ruminated on this as you made your way back upstairs, mind running over the events of the last few days. You couldn’t figure out why Shouto was having a weirder effect on you than any other alpha, even accounting for his unearthly good looks, nor why he seemed to be equally lost today—ordering a zillion things without even realizing he’d done so.

As you made your way back to your desk and cracked open the case file again, you resolved to solve this mystery as well. You were good at getting to the bottom of things—and Todoroki Shouto would be no exception.

#todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #shouto x reader #shouto x you #shouto todoroki x reader #todoroki x you #bnha x reader #andie's writing #character: todoroki shouto #tw: a/b/o

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pensat-i-fet · 1 year

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More Gavi (Pablo Gavi x Reader)

**Another cute request. It was fun writing this one and adding a bit of Spanish. I never want to put too much because some people might find it annoying but it obviously makes sense here. Let me know your thoughts about that. And enjoy reading ❤️**

Word count: 2328

Masterlist

Wattpad

"Hey".

"I need your help", he said, getting inside the house without looking back.

"Hello to you too, mister rude".

You walked to the living room right when Gavi turned to look at you, expression serious.

"What's going on?"

"I have to do an advert for Nike".

You couldn't help but hit his arm when he said that.

"Don't come into my house talking as if something horrible has happened and then say that, you idiot. You scared me!"

"I have to speak English!!", he said, raising his hands as if that explained everything.

"So?"

"I don't know how to. You do. So you need to help me".

“Alright then. First lesson. How do you say por favor in English? Easy one to warm up?”

But as much as you wanted to tease him, when you saw his worried face, you knew you would help him. Of course, you were going to. You’d do anything for him.

“I’ll help you”, you said, rolling your eyes.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

When he hugged you, you sighed. You didn’t need to ask him how to say that you were the stupid girl who fell in love with her best friend and that kept getting friend zoned because you knew that one already.

“What do you need to say?”

“I’ll show you the script they gave me”.

You cleared the table you had been using for work and picked up a notebook just in case you needed it at some point.

“Here”.

A quick look at the list made you frown. “That’s it?”

“Yes”.

“Pablo, it’s just a couple of words that are almost the same as in Spanish”.

“But I pronounce them weirdly!”, he complained again.

“Because you’re Spanish!”

“So are you and you can speak English well”.

“I’m the exception”, you joked, flipping your hair.

Gavi groaned and hit his head against the table, making you laugh. He was so extra.

“How do you say mi amiga es insoportable? (My friend is unbearable)”

“My friend is the most beautiful girl in the world”.

“Hilarious!”

While he still looked at you, pouting, you picked up the notebook and wrote the words down.

“Ok. So we got intensity, which is intensidad”.

“Yeah”.

“So repeat: in-ten-si-ty”.

“In…tensi…ty”.

“You sound like you are afraid of the word when it describes you perfectly”.

“I’m afraid of saying it. Did I do well?”

“Could have been worse. Let’s just say it again but a bit faster”.

You kept practising until he felt confident and you could move to saying the whole sentences in one go.

“Ok, precision now”.

“What?”

His confused face made you laugh. He was so adorable…and you needed to stop thinking about him being adorable.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“The way you said it was funny”.

“Also, the correct way. It’s almost like precisión. Come on…”.

“It’s nothing like precisión”.

“We’ll go slowly with this one then”.

You wrote the syllables down and pointed at each one so he could repeat after you.

“Pre”.

“Ci”.

“Ci.”

“Sion”.

“Precision”.

“I can’t!”

This time, instead of putting his head against the table, he put it on your shoulder. One of his hands went to the back of your chair, but the other was on your thigh. You knew he’d always been like this but ever since you were aware of your feelings for him being so strong, it became hard to deal with him touching you so much.

“You know what this reminds me of?”, you said, moving so he could go back to his chair and changing the subject to distract yourself.

“Of what?”

“That episode of Friends in which Phoebe is trying to teach Joey French and she talks slowly and he’s doing fine. But then he has to say the whole thing and says some gibberish. That was you, literally”.

“I’ve never watched Friends. I don’t know”.

You were shocked. How could you have known him for so long and not know this dark secret?

“We can’t be friends, then”.

“Why?”

“I love Friends!”

“We can watch it later. I’m not leaving until I know how to do this so get the guest room ready. Or maybe I’ll fall asleep in your bed again if I convince you to keep teaching me until you literally fall asleep”.

Yeah…that wasn’t going to happen. That was something that happened “before”. Not now.

“You’re doing really well. We’ll be done soon”.

“Really?”, his happy face always made you smile. “How do you say eso es porque tengo la mejor profesora?”

“That’s because I have the best teacher. And yes, that's exactly why".

You continued working on his pronunciation until it was time for dinner. Teaching was exhausting and Gavi run from training straight to your house so you were both starving.

“You don’t have to cook after all you’ve helped me. Let me order something”.

Before you had time to move, Gavi was right behind you, hugging you and putting his chin on your shoulder to look at what you were preparing.

“It’s just pre-made stuff. Move back so I can put it in the oven”.

The way you took his arms off you made him frown. You’ve never reacted like that to him hugging you.

“Are you ok?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”, you asked, putting the food in the oven and avoiding looking at him. Too afraid he’d noticed the reason why you didn’t want him to touch you. “Should I make a salad too?”

“Sure”.

Once the food was ready, you took your plates to the sofa and you found online the episode of Friends you were talking about before. “The one where Joey speaks French”.

You loved screening movies and shows for people. You would look at them whenever you knew something interesting was about to happen and most were annoyed by the spoiler, but Gavi never minded. Especially with horror movies. You saved him from being scared so many times.

“I’m cold”, he said suddenly, and you took your blanket and gave it to him.

He moved closer to you so it could cover both of you and you tried to just focus on the show. No longer interested in looking at him because he was too close and your heart was beating fast enough already.

“I’m still cold”.

“I’m not turning the heating on in March”.

“Cuddle me, then”.

It was too dark, thankfully, for him to see your face at that moment. “I can get you a hot water bottle if you want”.

“Or you could just cuddle me like we have done a million times”.

“My back hurts. I’m comfortable in this position, sorry”.

“Really? Is that why you pulled away from my hug earlier?”

Now you did turn to look at him. Not only had he noticed but he was worrying about it.

“Yeah”.

“Do you need some medicine? Or I could buy some pomade and help you apply it”.

Why was he coming up with the worst ideas?

“I’ll take some paracetamol later, don’t worry. It’s nothing”.

Even though he wasn’t convinced, he didn’t talk about it more. At least he had an answer now for your weird reaction when he hugged you. It had hurt him so much to feel rejected by you…by the best friend he was in love with.

Having Fridays off was a blessing. You got to sleep in after a week of early mornings…except for when you got calls at 8.30 am.

“Who on Earth is calling me…”, but then you say the name on the screen and answered immediately.

“I need you!”

Oh God…

“And I need sleep, Gavi”.

“You have to come to film the advert with me, please. I’ve forgotten everything you taught me”.

“No, you haven’t. You’re nervous. And I’m sure they have people there who can help you”.

“But I don’t want them. I want you”.

How you wished he was saying that in another context.

“I’ll be there. But you owe me one. Well…another one”.

“I love you!”

“Yeah yeah yeah”.

Getting out of your warm bed was hard but knowing you were going to spend the morning with Gavi made it a little easier. Even if it was getting harder and harder to just be his friend.

By the time you got there, everyone was getting a bit impatient about having to wait for “a friend”.

“Sorry, traffic was bad”.

“Can we start now?”, said one of the guys with the cameras.

“Yes”, told him Gavi, side-eyeing him. “She has to come with me so she can help me read the lines”.

“As long as we can start working, I don’t care if she wants to be your foot stunt double for the shoots”.

The guy’s grumpy tone made you laugh.

“You don’t want me to kick the ball”.

“I know”, laughed Gavi, kissing your cheek and telling you to follow him.

It was hard, but you managed to resist the urge to touch the area where he had kissed you. You could still feel his lips there. He was making it so difficult…

Gavi was actually way more nervous about speaking those few English words than you expected. He was criticised so much for his on-the-pitch behaviour that he didn’t want this to be another reason for people to make fun of him. So you took this even more seriously than back at your place.

Finally, after some struggling, he was done. And you could tell the crew was so happy to be done with this advert. Something so simple had taken so long.

“More Gavi, yeah…just what the world needs”, you joked when he was going back to where you waited for him.

“It’s what you need, don’t lie. How do you say cuanto más Gavi, mejor?”

“The more Gavi, the better. But that’s a lie so don’t say it to people. Your mum taught you better than that”.

He laughed and put his arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer to his side. And even if you knew this wasn’t helping, at all, you let him. Putting your arm around his waist, you let him hold you because it felt so good to be that close to him. Better than it should.

“How do you say…”, he wasn’t going to stop now, “te como la cara?”

You snorted at that. “I wouldn’t recommend you telling people you want to eat their face. It sounds weird”.

“It doesn’t sound weird in Spanish”.

“That’s because we are weird. So one weird cancels the other”.

“I want to do it anyway”, he said, pretending he was going to bite your cheek and making you move away from him.

“Stop that!”

“But I’m hungry!”

And you kept bickering on the way to your car, not realising once again that the feelings were mutual. That you moved away from him to protect your feelings or that he wanted to be always as close to you as possible because there was no one else that made him feel the way you did.

Pablito ❤️: the ad is out. I posted on IG. Go see it!

You: compliment your teacher on my behalf. Brilliant job she did.

Pablito ❤️: I’m on my way.

You: I didn’t mean literally!

The doorbell alerted you that Gavi was already there. This boy…

“What is that?”

“Your favourite cupcakes as a thank you”.

“You still owe me but thank you for always enabling my sugar addiction”.

He stayed in the living room while you went to the kitchen to get some napkins and plates for the cupcakes.

“Ok, the one with all the fruit for you and the one with all the chocolate for me”.

“Can I have a bite of your one?”

“Sure”.

You watched the ad while you ate, laughing at all the moments you knew had to be redone more than 20 times.

“You really made that crew earn their salary that day, Pablito”.

“I don’t think they’ll ever want to work with me again”.

“Who could blame them?”

Seeing you laugh was always special for Gavi. It was while you were laughing at one of his jokes that he thought, for the first time, about how beautiful you really were. He always knew you were but…he fully noticed what that beauty meant to him. The sound you made when you laughed was music to his ears, but it was the way your face lit up that hypnotized him.

“What?”, you asked when you saw him staring at you. “I have chocolate on my face?”

But he couldn’t talk, so he just shook his head.

He was tired of hiding his feelings. Of pretending he wasn’t in love with you for fear of you turning him down. It could ruin your friendship and he knew that. He feared that could happen. But living in fear was painful too. He had to do this.

“Can we have another lesson?”

“Sure”.

You didn’t look very convinced because he was worrying you a bit.

“How do you say te quiero?”

You swallowed. He should know that. Why was he asking? “I love you”.

He nodded. “And how do you say te quiero pero no quiero quererte solo como un amigo?” (I love you but I don't want to just love you as a friend).

“Pablo…”.

“Or should I just say it in Spanish so nothing gets lost in translation?”

“Do you mean it?”, you asked, full of hope.

“I do”.

Seeing you’re reaction gave him the final push to get closer to you. He held your face with his hands and spoke quietly.

“You’re the best friend I could ask for. And a pretty good teacher too. But I want more. Do you want more?”

“More Gavi?”

You both laughed and then you kept leaning forward until your lips finally connected. Finally showing each other how much you really wanted this. And kisses had no language. Everyone could understand what they meant.

#pablo gavi #gavi #pablo gavi imagine #pablo imagine one shot #pablo imagine fluff #footballer imagine #footballer one shot #footballer fluff #friends to lovers

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ryuichirou · 3 months

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Replies

Some replies! A lot of AzuIde and AzuJami today huh

Anonymous asked:

How does Idia even flirt? (If he has the capacity, that is…)

He doesn’t … but sometimes he provokes and teases, this is probably the closest thing lol But then again, a lot of times it ends up in either the provoked person getting irritated or in the provoked person getting PROVOKED and Idia getting freaked out because he didn’t expect the reaction to be this intense.

Anonymous asked:

Who do you think Idia would be the happiest with? Just curious…

Ortho! Ortho understands him, Ortho knows everything about him, Ortho is familiar, Ortho is comfortable, he is pretty much Idia’s soulmate. He is also an enabler, but he still pushes Idia out of his comfort zone.

The second one would probably be Azul; realistically, they would have a lot of issues because both of them are stubborn and have a lot of baggage, but I don’t think it’s completely impossible for them to actually be happy together.

And the rest of the boys in Idia’s harem aren’t even interested in all this stuff, they just want to have fun lol

Anonymous asked:

Would Azul ever cheat on Idia? If he did, how would Idia react?

Their relationship status is kind of weird, like they’re together but not quite, because accepting the fact that they are attracted to each other and want to be together is more difficult than having a marriage of convenience. So even if Azul does cheat, it would be due to this misunderstanding and things being complicated between them in general + him being honestly very horny for Jamil lol And if that happens, Idia would be salty and upset, because even if they weren’t technically “together”, it would still feel like a betrayal.

THAT BEING SAID. Azul values his connection to Idia way too much, so I don’t think he would do anything further than flirting. No NTR for these two I guess lol

Anonymous asked:

What is it about Azul that Jamil doesn’t like? They’re both shady af…

BUT HE IS SO ANNOYING!! And the fact that he is shady is just another thing to not like about him I think lol Jamil really doesn’t trust Azul: he knows that he uses people, and while he might be a useful ally, he is way too dangerous and backstabbing to trust him in any way.

He is also clingy, pretentious, flamboyant/dramatic, overbearing, and slimy.

He is also obnoxiously stubborn and a control freak; remember that vignette in which Jamil was asked to help Azul during the flying lessons? When Azul didn’t want him to help and was super against it and insisted on doing everything himself because he didn’t want to be indebted to Jamil and thought that Jamil had an ulterior motive.

So yeah. Azul is an annoying twitchy clingy obsessive pompous freak… I guess he is just way too high-maintenance for Jamil lol Specifically because they’re so similar, Jamil knows how dangerous and cunning Azul is. You just can’t trust this guy at all, so why would he? Azul would just use him for his purposes to get what he wants and then discard Jamil when he’s not needed anymore or something like that.

Anonymous asked:

Imagine Jamil having to deal with Kalim AND Azul AND Nagito

God… this poor poor guy…

I laughed at “AND Nagito” like tf you doing there fucker.

Making Jamil’s life more miserable of course!

Anonymous asked:

Miu: Hey, I-dick-a, I know you’re a pathetic otaku virgin so I invented something for you to practice with just in case you get lucky! Or…if ya never get laid at least you’ll have my invention! Ain’t I the sweetest? You should bow down and lick my boots!

I-dick-a Idia: *Passes away*

This is horrible (and canon) on so many levels, and wait until Ortho reveals that Idia already has a machine he’s built for that exact reason…

#replies #azuide #azujami

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wrathofrats · 4 days

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AAAAHHH THE MUSHY MAY DAY 10!!!!! HOLY SHITT!!!! SO GOOD!!!

I LOVE Delta being okay but just... Off putting™. maybe the elemental change didnt so much fuck with his body but his magic. so, where traditionally quints are good with healing, Delta is better with Death, maybe he has some kind of clearvoyance or maybe he can kind of blend into the shadows.

Maybe he is able to help souls go to rest, helping fulfill their last wishes or telling a loved one, one last thing. He works in the Morgue not just by preparing their bodies for burial, but their spirits too.

Maybe he is able to sense death and thus Can help in for example the more intensive cases, where he is able to catch a heart attack early, so they can intervine quicker and actually save the person.

All just some Thoughts™ I had. It would be an interesting reason why siblings are a bit scared of him, and why he isnt around much. (he often joins The Tomb Buddies, Special and Cowbell, for midnight tom(b)foolery)

Hi zero!

No I really wanna incorporate more casual delta into some work, not everything has to be horribly depressing LMAO. I’ve joked that this is my AU where nothing bad happened to him

I hc delta as just being … awkward. He’s not a people person to say the least LMAO. So he works in the morgue because it’s easier for him, no expectations, just do his job silently and go. He’s extremely respectful, to the point of even having small conversations with the bodies. I think he takes his work extremely seriously

I love this idea a lot!! I think he has a very off putting kind of nature, so it would definitely be good for him to be more of a friend of the dead and spirits.

#ur so big brained #i <3 normal delta #I say as if I didn’t fuck him up in the first place #wrath asks

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hairstevington · 2 years

Text

"Barb is Alive?!"

Summary: Barbara Holland wakes up next to Steve Harrington's pool after what she assumes is the result of blacking out at the horrible party Nancy dragged her to. Instead, she discovers she's been dead for three years - yet, for some reason, this isn't the thing she finds most surprising. Nancy, Robin, Steve, and Eddie reunite with Barb, and help her come to terms with everything she's missed. (requested) - Ao3 link!

Word Count: 9.25K

Warnings: Steddie/Ronance are sickeningly cute (pretty heavy on The Fruity Four), slight reference to Barb having some self confidence/body image issues, mention of Byler (if you squint), Barb is also not straight, nothing too intense in this one, just a lot of processing the events of the series with funny banter from our faves <3

A/N: This is obviously an AU fic, but I vaguely reference some canon through st4 vol 2, so if you haven't finished the season and don't want anything spoiled I'd sit this one out. Thank you to @eddiemunsonswife for requesting this (original post here)! I followed their prompt to the best of my ability, and they've been very patient and kind with feedback along the way :) I hope you all enjoy!

One time, when she was a kid, Barbara Holland stayed up all night with Nancy Wheeler during a sleepover. Neither of them had actually managed it before, as sleep usually took over around 3am. But this time would be different, they said. They were only eleven years old, but much smarter than the average kid. So naturally, they had a whole plan. They tucked sugary snacks and sodas under their beds for the weeks leading up to it in preparation. Nancy created a schedule by the hour of activities they could do so that they’d stay awake. It turned out to be one of the most memorable nights of Barb’s childhood.

Mrs. Holland picked her daughter up from the Wheeler’s the next day, and wondered why she was acting so off. The thrill of their accomplishment kind of dwindled after sunrise, and after that the two girls were mostly just miserable. Barb fell asleep as soon as she got home, and she didn’t wake up until dinner. She opened her eyes to total darkness, and for a moment she forgot where she was, or even what day it was. Slowly, her surroundings made sense to her, and the night she’d had before with Nancy came back to the forefront of her memory.

Waking up next to Steve Harrington’s pool was kind of like that.

Her eyes snapped open, and she winced at the feeling of concrete beneath her. Her entire body ached worse than she’d ever experienced. She tried to remember how she got there - there was a party at Steve’s. I was with Nancy. Her and Steve went upstairs, and I -

That’s where her memory stopped. She only remembered having that one beer, if you can even count it, but she must have drank more after Nancy abandoned her. That must have been what happened. It seemed out of character for Barb to do, but Nancy sleeping with Steve “The Hair” Harrington seemed equally as unlikely, so she figured she couldn’t rule it out. This was Barb’s first time waking up after blacking out. It had to be.

She managed to stand up, the night much warmer than she remembered it being. Most of the lights were off in the Harrington household, except one in the main hallway and one upstairs - Barb assumed it to be Steve’s bedroom. She felt a rush of anger and disappointment at Nancy. She’d never behaved like this before. Nancy had told Barb to keep her from doing anything stupid, but there was no stopping Nancy when she had her heart set on something. Or someone, in this case. Barb didn’t hate Steve as a person, but she certainly didn’t love him. He had a reputation, and he was funny and attractive and popular, and Barb was seen as a loser, an outcast. But Steve hadn’t done anything to Barb to intentionally hurt her. He didn’t really seem to notice her at all. That was the bit that hurt the most, along with him using Nancy like he was. Barb tried to see the good in people, and she wanted Nancy to enjoy the fact that Mr. Popular was interested in her, but she couldn’t help but feel like this was all a game to him. That Nancy was just another conquest - And Barb knew that Nancy was so much more than that.

She peered through the window on the first floor, seeing no sign of anyone - not even Tommy and Carol. She wondered how long she was out, and why nobody moved her or took care of her or showed any sort of concern for her in any way. She rolled her eyes, and considered just leaving. She was Nancy’s ride home, but she couldn’t help but feel like if the roles were reversed, Nancy wouldn’t stay. She had no idea what time it was, and knew her mom would be worried if she stayed out any longer, so she decided to walk back to her car. There was a van parked in the driveway that she didn’t notice before. The sight of it gave her the creeps, and she started walking faster down the street to where she parked her car. Dammit, Nancy, she thought to herself. The long walk from Steve’s to the car (that Nancy had demanded they take) was a lot less spooky when they were walking together.

It was also a lot longer of a walk than she’d remembered. Too long. She could have sworn she left her car by Cornwallis, but she kept walking anyway.

Her car was nowhere to be found.

Reality hit her like a ton of bricks. Nancy had left without her. Nancy had taken the car. That had to be the case. Cars don’t just disappear like that, and there wasn’t a huge market for grand theft auto in Hawkins. Anger bubbled inside of her, more intense than she’d ever felt in her life. Barb wasn’t one to get angry, in fact, she rarely raised her voice. But this was different. This was betrayal, abandonment. This was awful.

She had no way home, no phone, and no idea how late it was. It was only about 8 or 9 when she blacked out. At least, that’s what she thought the time was. Barb made the trip back to the Harrington house with nowhere else to go. The light was on in Steve’s bedroom, after all, and although Barb hated the idea of asking him for help, she had no other choice. She at least could use his phone, or figure out where Nancy went, and why. Every step towards the house fueled Barb with more rage. None of this made sense. Nancy wouldn’t do this. Was she possessed? Was she crazy? How could someone do this to their best friend? It was mortifying.

Barb went around to the pool again to check the back door, which was luckily left unlocked. The house was quiet, her footsteps echoing up to the high ceilings. She found a clock and realized it was about 10pm - not too horribly bad to call her parents or Nancy and ask for help. But before she went that route, it was time to face her fears and confront Steve. He took Nancy up here, and apparently did something so bad, she left without her best friend. Barb wasn’t a violent person, but she wasn’t opposed to kicking Steve in the nuts if she felt it was appropriate.

She walked up the stairs, following the light under Steve’s bedroom door. There was music playing faintly, and she could tell Steve was at least awake. She didn’t think she was alone either.

“Steve?” Barb asked, tapping lightly on the door.

“Oh shit.” Barb heard various curses and muttering from inside the bedroom. Barb couldn’t really understand the frantic whispers between Steve and his guest, but Barb wasn’t naive - she had interrupted something.

“Nancy? Are you in there?” Barb asked, hopeful. If Nancy was in there, at least that meant she wasn’t completely abandoned.

“Mom, you weren’t supposed to be home until Monday!” Steve called. Barb heard another male voice next.

“Did she just ask if Wheeler was in here?” The question was followed by a violent shushing.

“I’m not your mom, Steve.” Barb said, jiggling the locked door handle.

“What?!” Steve shouted. “Oh. Oh my god, it’s just Robin. Robin, what are you doing here?” Barb heard his voice get louder as footsteps approached, and then the door opened.

Steve looked different than Barb had remembered. He was bigger, more toned, and his hair was different, which didn’t make any sense. Behind him, a random man with hair longer than Barb had ever had hers was crawling back through the window almost as if…as if…

As if he was trying to make a quick exit so as not to get caught by Steve’s mom. And based on the state of their clothes, Barb could infer exactly what he didn’t want to be caught doing. But that…No, none of this made sense.

“W-where’s Nancy? Are you…What’s going on?” Barb sputtered, her brain malfunctioning.

“That’s not Robin.” The strange man said, standing up and fixing his disheveled wardrobe. Steve stared at Barb, frozen and wide-eyed. “Hellooo, Earth to Steve. Who is this chick?”

“Eddie, what did…what was in that joint?” Steve remained completely still, his eyes fixed on her.

“Just normal weed, man. What’s going on?” Eddie walked closer to Steve with concern.

“No, no, no. Nonononono. I’m dreaming.” Steve shook his head and finally broke eye contact. He paced around the room before settling on his bed. Eddie looked at Barb next.

“Hi, I’m Eddie.”

“Barb.”

“Whatcha doing at my boyfriend’s parents house in the middle of the night, Barb?”

“Jesus Christ.” Steve muttered from the bed. He was now lying on his back, his hands over his face.

“Boyfriend? No, he -” Barb looked at Steve, then back to Eddie. “He was just up here with Nancy. Except he looked…different.”

“With Nancy, huh?” Eddie said, amused. “Don’t think so. He’s been with me for, uh. I don’t know, a while. I’ve been here all night.”

“No, that doesn’t make sense.” Barb’s brain was melting. “Nancy and I came over tonight for the party, and she went up here with him, and I blacked out or something.” Steve made a pained noise from the other side of the room.

“Don’t think so, Sweetheart. Sorry. Also, not to tell you how to live your life, but you probably shouldn’t just walk into people’s houses.” There was a lightness to his voice that pissed Barb off. He was being way too calm about this - He just seemed to be making fun of her. How could he be saying these things?

“But Steve’s not -” Barb stopped, hoping she didn’t have to say the word out loud, but Eddie waited patiently, his arms crossed, begging her to say it. “He’s not gay.” It came out almost as a whisper.

“I beg to differ on that one. Although, technically he’s bisexual, if you must know.”

“Eddie…” Steve groaned from the bed. There was a vulnerability to Steve’s voice that made Eddie’s face soften into something a lot more likable than his previous disposition. He walked over to the bed and knelt beside Steve.

“You okay?”

“It’s her. It’s Barb.”

“Yeah, that’s what she said.”

“No, Eddie. Remember when I told you about…About Nancy and I? That one night? And her friend -”

“Oh, fuck. But how is that-”

“I don’t know. Call Nance. I think she’s with Robin. Get them over here. Please.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back.” Barb watched as Eddie tenderly grabbed Steve’s hand, squeezed it, then brought it to his lips. It was a kind of intimacy that couldn’t possibly have developed in one night. Barb’s head spun. It still wasn’t making any sense. “Come on, let’s go downstairs.”

Barb followed him to the kitchen where the main phone was. She was somehow more confused than ever, but at least she knew Nancy was okay. Although, apparently Nancy was with some other friend. Maybe she’s the one that convinced Nancy to steal Barb’s car.

Barb looked around the kitchen while Eddie dialed Nancy’s number on the phone. It was pretty clean. At Barb’s house, there were tons of pictures of her from all ages. Steve’s house had none of that. There was some opened mail on the counter, and Barb happened to glance down at it while she was walking past. And that’s when she saw the date, and everything simultaneously made more and less sense.

“Hey, Nance. It’s Eddie. Sorry, yeah, I know it’s late. It’s Steve….He’s okay, I mean, he’s not in danger or anything. But you should come here. No, his parent’s house.” Eddie sighed into the receiver. “It’s a long story. It’s, um…” Eddie glanced up at Barb, then quickly turned away. “Barb is here. Yes. No, like she’s literally here, dude. Hello? Helloooo? Shit…” He hung up the phone and sighed. “I think that means she’s on her way.”

“Eddie, what year is it?” Barb asked, nervous.

“Uhh, ‘86 last I checked.”

“No, it’s not.” She couldn’t believe this. I mean, time travel? That’s impossible. This is a dream. It had to be. A really weird, insanely detailed dream.

“Okay, so uh.” Eddie began. “Let’s sit down.” He walked her to the couch and sat next to her. He took a deep breath. “I don’t really know how to tell this story. Not really mine to tell, honestly. You, um. You…died…three years ago.”

“What are you talking about?”

“So, I don’t know everything, and don’t shoot the messenger. Nancy and Steve were together back then, and they ditched you, and then you died out there near the pool. Wheeler, she uh. She felt a lot of guilt about it. Ended up breaking poor Harrington’s heart.” Eddie had lost his condescending tone, but he maintained a light quality to him that almost made this conversation seem casual. It wasn’t, but Barb appreciated it anyway, because the words weren’t landing in her head in a serious way. She couldn’t comprehend them at all.

“Wow, uh…I’m…dreaming. Have to be.” She said to herself.

“Do you want me to pinch you or something?”

“Please don’t touch me.”

“Copy that.”

“So, how did I die then?” Eddie shrugged.

“You’d have to ask Steve or Nancy. Or Dustin, he probably knows more than I do.”

“Dustin?”

“Yeah, you know. Henderson?”

“Wait, Mike’s friend? What does a child have to do with any of this?” Barb was getting more confused by the minute.

“He’s not so much of a kid anymore.” Eddie chuckled. “More of an annoying teen. Love the guy, but yeah. Him and Steve have a whole brotherly thing going on.”

“Wow.” It was an understatement.

“You’re taking this pretty well.” Eddie acknowledged.

“Am I? I feel like my head is about to explode.” She looked down at herself, wondering if she looked any different, too. But her clothes were the same ones she remembered putting on before any of this happened. “Wait, so I died. Three years later I just…showed back up at this pool. I’m in the same clothes, I haven’t seemed to age, and I feel exactly the same -”

“If you’re asking for any sort of explanation, I gave up on figuring that shit out a long time ago.” Eddie leaned back on the couch, feeling more relaxed now that he was no longer the bearer of bad news.

“You’re saying things like this have happened before?” Barb asked, astonished. Eddie shrugged.

“Yeah. But since your brain is already about to explode, the rest of the story should probably wait.”

“I feel sick.” Barb said, her hand pressing against her stomach.

“If you’re gonna puke, I highly recommend the bathroom.”

“No, I think I just need to lay down.” Barb said, already doing so on the couch. Eddie stood up so as not to touch her when she stretched out her legs.

“Okay. Nancy should be here soon. Is it alright if I go upstairs to check on Steve?”

“Yeah.” Barb muttered. Eddie waited awkwardly for a moment, in case she needed anything else from him, and then he left to go back upstairs.

Barb lied there for an indiscernible amount of time, hoping that if she managed to fall asleep, she’d wake up back in the world she remembered.

But she couldn’t fall asleep. She couldn’t stop thinking about what Eddie had said, and how Steve had looked, and how even though there was no explanation for how this happened, it clearly had. Eventually, the front door opened, signaling Nancy’s arrival. Nancy. Barb sat up, excited to see her friend, despite everything else that was going on.

“Hello?” Her voice carried from the other room. Barb froze, listening intently to the footsteps walking through the foyer, around to the kitchen, and then -

Barb locked eyes with Nancy, giving her a slight smile and a shrug. Nancy’s eyes grew wide as saucers, her face growing with concern, surprise, fear, and a million other things Barb couldn’t place. Then, Barb noticed something in Nancy’s face that she rarely ever saw - there were tears in her eyes.

“Nancy, hey.” Barb said, standing up and whisking her way to where Nancy was standing. She stopped suddenly at the sight of the woman behind her - someone familiar. “Woah. Robin…Buckley?”

“Shit. Nance, it’s really her.” Robin muttered. “Hi, yeah. It’s been a while.” Barb knew Robin, but she was a Freshman the last time she’d seen her - now, she was older, her style was different, and she was…pretty. It’s not like she wasn’t before, but she was also fourteen before. Nobody is that beautiful at fourteen - Barb wasn’t sure she even was pretty yet at 16, or whatever age she qualified as now. She hadn’t even looked in the mirror yet.

Nancy was still frozen in shock, but she looked mostly the same. Her hair was bigger, and much shorter, but otherwise she looked exactly as she’d had the night of the party. She was still Nancy. Barb was relieved to see at least one thing hadn’t changed.

“Barb, oh my God.” Nancy said, finally stumbling from her trance to launch herself into Barb’s arms. They hugged each other tightly, neither of them wanting to let go. Barb felt like she hadn’t hugged her friend in years, which wasn't technically incorrect. She heard sniffling next to her ear - Nancy was actually crying. Barb never really saw her cry, because she always insisted on being strong. She was a warrior, that’s what they always used to say as kids. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Nance. I’m here now.” Barb assured her. Nancy finally let go and backed away enough to look at Barb.

“I can’t believe it. You’re really here.” Nancy said. “How did - What was it like for you?”

“I just remember the party, then nothing, and then I woke up outside like an hour ago.”

“No injuries or anything?” Nancy asked. Barb shook her head. “You don’t - You didn’t - The Upside Down, the Demogorgon…?”

“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Wow.” Nancy sighed. “I just…Wow.”

“What…happened to me? To you?” Barb asked. “Did you know Steve’s dating a boy??” Robin snorted.

“Robin!” Nancy admonished in a hushed voice. “Yeah, he’s with Eddie.”

“I met him. He seems nice enough, once you get past the fact he looks like a serial killer.”

“Ha, yeah, about that. You’re not the first person to think so.” Robin said, rolling her eyes.

“Anyway.” Nancy interrupted. “You, um. Maybe we should sit down.” Barb nodded, the three of them walking over to the couch.

“Just tell me, Nance.” Barb sighed.

“I should leave you two alone.” Robin said, nervous. “I can go check on Steve maybe?”

“That’s a good idea.” Nancy agreed.

“He’s upstairs with Eddie.” Barb informed her. Robin nodded, then headed to the staircase.

“So.” Nancy said, nodding awkwardly. “It’s been an eventful three years.”

“Just start with that night.” Barb suggested.

“Okay.” Nancy took a deep breath. “Steve and I went upstairs, and we…We slept together. You were gone when I went back downstairs, so I just went home. I’d told you to leave anyway, so…”

“Yeah, you did.” Barb said, trying her best not to be bitter. But it hurt to know that Nancy had done exactly what she’d feared - she’d ditched her friend to have sex with a guy.

“Barb, that night changed everything for me.” Nancy said.

“Okay, gross. Spare me the details.” Barb muttered.

“No, no. Barb, listen to me.” Nancy sputtered, trying to say things she’d never really let herself say. She’d never had the chance to before. “I haven’t stopped grieving you since that night. Not ever. I mean, it kind of set up a whole chain of events that led me here, with Robin.”

“Wait, with Robin, as in…?”

“I…” Nancy stumbled over her words. She still wasn’t used to coming out, still wasn’t sure of what she even was. “Yeah. I love her.”

“Woah.” Barb said. “You and Steve, huh?”

“Yeah.” Nancy smiled. “It’s a wonder he and I didn’t work out.”

“So that’s why it ended?” Barb asked, confused.

“No, it’s not.” Nancy corrected. “You disappeared, and Steve didn’t really seem to care.” Barb rolled her eyes. Figures. “I promise he’s a good guy, Barb. He’s really matured since then. But, yeah, he shook it off. We dated for like a year, but I just couldn’t get over that.”

“Oh.” Barb said quietly. “I’m…sorry.”

“What for?” Nancy argued. “No, I’m sorry. If I had just listened to you that night -”

“Hey, it’s okay. Teenagers do stupid things all the time. Usually the consequences are less…severe.” Barb pointed out.

“Thank you. I can’t believe how long I lost you.” She whispered.

“Keep telling me the story, Nance.” Barb prodded, wanting to leave space for Nancy’s emotions, but also desperate to know more about what she’d missed.

“Right. So, when you disappeared, Jonathan was the only person who helped me look for you. Because he was also looking for his brother, and - “

“Byers??” Barb asked. “He always creeped us out.”

“Yeah, turns out he’s not so bad.” Nancy shrugged. “We found Will, but you…Well, you were gone. So anyway, I dated Jonathan for a while too, after Steve. Up until we graduated.”

“Seriously?” Barb asked, astonished. Nancy nodded.

“Yup. But he moved to California, and we just had different aspirations, so it didn’t work out.”

“You sound like you’ve really practiced that speech to avoid saying what actually went wrong.” Barb teased.

“Yeah, well. It’s easier than saying I fell for my ex's best friend. Sounds more mature.” Nancy added with a flourish. Barb smiled. “I don’t know how you ended up back here, but I’m so happy.”

“Me too, Nance.”

Footsteps started echoing down the stairs rapidly, signaling that their privacy together was coming to an end. Barb saw Eddie first, who made a beeline for the kitchen. Robin and Steve came next, slightly more hesitant. Steve at least looked less pale than he had before.

“I’m sorry about my reaction earlier.” Steve said, sheepishly.

“Don’t be.” Robin said, smacking her friend on the arm. “This whole thing is bonkers.”

“Robin, could you just, like, chill out?” Nancy asked.

“What? It’s true!” Robin doubled down. She squeezed herself on the couch next to Nancy.

“I’m with Robin on this one.” Eddie mumbled with his mouth full of something he’d found in the fridge. Steve looped around to the far end of the couch, putting as much distance as possible between him and Barb. Eddie joined moments later with snacks, plopping himself between Barb and Steve.

“So…” Steve said, breaking the silence. “Nancy told you…everything?”

“I still have a lot of questions, but I’m at least up to speed on your love lives.” Barb said before she could filter it. “Sorry. I’m very tired.”

“No, I get it. Finding out your friends are queer must be interesting as all hell.” Eddie approved.

“Well, that and the whole monster apocalypse underground secret government agency mind control demon dust evil Russians thing.” Robin vented the words in such rapid succession that Barb had no way to keep up in any capacity. The room fell quiet.

“I actually didn’t get to any of that.” Nancy admitted.

“Ohhh, shit!” Eddie chuckled, amused. “Sorry. You dropped the ball on that one, Nance.”

“Eddie, come on.” Steve groaned.

“You love me.” Eddie said, leaning over and kissing Steve right on the lips. Steve seemed to melt into him instantly, almost giddy from it. Barb stared at them, wide-eyed and entranced. She’d never seen two men kiss in her entire life.

“Okay, right, so.” Nancy interrupted. “How you…How you died.”

“Do you want me to tell her?” Steve asked once he pushed Eddie off him.

“No, it should come from me.” Nancy answered. “When Will went missing, he was taken to this place called the Upside Down. It’s like here, but dark and dirty and gross, and there are…Monsters.” Nancy finished.

“Yeah, and the two dimensions started merging together and a monster came into Steve’s pool and totally attacked you.” Robin added. Nancy shot her a glare, then sighed.

“Uh, yeah. That’s what happened.” Nancy shrugged.

“Well, I’d say that’s impossible, but…” Barb realized at this point, nothing would ever seem impossible ever again. “I’m really tired. I kind of just want to go home.”

“Oh, well…” Nancy bit her lip. “Your parents don’t live here anymore. After the funeral, they…They sold the house.” For whatever reason, that’s the piece of information that affected Barb the most. She had no home to go to, and everything had changed, and she had missed it all. She must have started crying, because all of a sudden, everyone in the room was looking at her differently. Robin was the first to move, extending her arm across Nancy to grab Barb’s hand.

“Why don’t you come home with us? We’ll have a little sleepover or something.” Robin offered. Barb looked at Nancy, then to Robin, and nodded.

“Yeah, that sounds nice. Thank you.”

“And I’ll call your parents tomorrow. I mean, if you want me to.” Nancy suggested. Barb felt herself feeling slightly relieved, knowing that she at least had people right next to her who cared. Nancy scooted herself closer to Barb and snaked her arm around her, pulling her close into a side hug. Robin leaned into them both. After a moment, Barb felt Eddie moving beside her, tentatively, with Steve following his lead.

“This, uh.” Eddie began. “Just feels like a good time for a group hug. But I don’t have to-”

“Group hug is cool.” Barb permitted. Eddie nodded, then shifted himself towards her and put his arm around her back, hooking with Nancy’s. Steve joined last, leaning his head against Eddie’s shoulder and reaching his arm across to grab Robin’s free hand. They sat like that together for a few moments, until Barb eventually broke the silence.

“So, after everything, the four of you are like…good friends?” She wondered. Eddie snickered.

“Yeah, weird, huh? The Band Geek, The School Freak, The Goody-Two-Shoes, and King Steve turned out to make a pretty good team.” He joked.

“Yeah, and you’re one of us, now.” Robin added.

One of us. Barb thought to herself. Maybe, she could get through this.

~~~~~

Robin, Nancy, and Barb headed back to the Wheeler house - At least one part of the Hawkins she knew and loved was still intact. It looked about the same, there were even still a few pictures of Nancy and Barb up in Nancy’s bedroom - but a lot of them had been replaced.

“Can I take a shower?” Barb asked. Her clothes stuck to her, and she felt kind of grimy. She’d been dead for three years, after all.

“Yeah, of course. You know where it is.” Nancy said with her signature tight-lipped smile. “Here, let me grab you some clean clothes.”

“Uh, no way.” Robin interrupted. “No offense, Nance, but your clothes are itchy and uncomfortable. Here, I have something way better.” Robin walked to a dresser and knelt down to the bottom drawer, pulling out a pair of men’s sweatpants and a big t-shirt.

“Are those Steve’s?” Nancy asked, confused.

“Duh. You gave me my own drawer, I get to put what I want in it.” Robin smirked. “Besides, mens clothes are just so much comfier. I keep telling you this.”

“Yes, I know, I know.” Nancy dismissed, chuckling.

Barb stayed in the shower a lot longer than normal, but she felt that was valid considering the situation. She spent a long time washing herself of the night, using Nancy’s soap that thankfully was the same kind she used to buy. She left the shower feeling clean and refreshed, and then she looked at herself in the mirror for the first time since she’d woken up. Woah.

Her hair was the same. Her body was the same. But she still looked and felt older. There were dark circles under her eyes, and she thought she saw a stretch mark that wasn’t there before. She looked at it closer, only to find that - oh. It wasn’t a stretch mark. It was a scar.

She hurriedly put on Steve’s clothes - which, by the way, is something Barb never thought she’d be doing in a million years. But she was grateful for them, because Robin was right - they were really comfortable, and Nancy’s clothes were always too tight.

“Guys, I think I found something kind of weird.” Barb said as she returned to the bedroom. She lifted her shirt up to reveal her stomach and the pale line that crossed it. “I have them on my legs, too.”

“Oh, shit.” Robin said, looking closer. “So does that mean-”

“You were attacked, and now you’re…healed?” Nancy added.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t make sense. Where would she have gone then these last few years?” Robin asked.

“I have no idea.” Nancy shrugged.

Barb was moments from passing out, so she quickly got comfortable in the makeshift bed Nancy and Robin had made on the floor in Barb’s absence. She felt herself losing consciousness instantly.

“Hey, you okay?” Barb heard Robin ask Nancy.

“Yeah, I’m….” There was a silence, followed by a sound that broke Barb’s heart - Nancy sniffling.

It was the last thing she heard before she fell asleep.

~~~~~~

When Barb woke up, there was a moment she forgot entirely where she was. She thought she was home in bed, at first, and then she realized she was in Nancy’s room, which also wasn’t weird. But she was on the floor instead of in the bed with Nancy. And then everything from the previous night hit her all over again. She groaned, her body aching from sleeping on the floor - and also probably from the whole being dead 3 years thing.

“N..Nancy?” Barb mumbled as she stood up. She looked to the bed to see her best friend snuggled up to Robin. They looked so natural together that Barb wasn’t even thinking at all about how it was two women, just that they looked like a good fit. And Barb was happy for them, truly. It’s just…

Well, three years ago, or yesterday (depending on who you asked), Barb had some feelings of her own to figure out. She didn’t really even consider dating women to be an option, and now here she was, surrounded by people who were treating it so casually. She couldn’t imagine that in only three years, society had changed THAT much. She wondered if they were open about it, or if they had to hide it. Either way, Barb was grateful they had a small group they could just be themselves around. And now Barb was a part of it. One of us.

She decided she’d let them be, instead finding a book on Nancy’s shelf that looked interesting and reading it until they woke up.

“Morning sunshine.” Barb heard Robin’s voice.

“Mm, morning.” Nancy responded.

“Good morning.” Barb said with a smirk, sitting up so her head became visible to the couple from the foot of the bed. Robin jumped, then laughed nervously.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe I almost -”

“Forgot? Yeah, me too.” Barb agreed.

“Hi.” Nancy said, quietly.

“Hi.” Barb responded.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better, oddly enough.” Barb replied.

“That’s good, because we’ve got some more craziness to face today.” Robin interjected. Nancy looked at her quizzically, then slapped her palm to her forehead.

“Dammit! Dustin’s party is today!” Nancy groaned.

“Again with the Henderson kid.” Barb rolled her eyes, standing up to sit on the foot of the bed. “Eddie said you were friends. I guess I didn’t realize you were…good enough friends to party with him?”

“It’s not like that.” Robin said, chuckling. “But Steve and I planned a sweet sixteen for him, except he’s really only turning fifteen - don’t ask.”

“It’s just gonna be a barbecue in Steve’s backyard.” Nancy explained. “We’ll be there, Steve and Eddie too, obviously. Dustin, Will, my brother, Lucas, Erica, Max, El…Oh, Hopper and Mrs. Byers, too. Maybe Jonathan?”

“And you guys…enjoy hanging out with these people? A bunch of kids, your exes, and the Sheriff?” Barb asked, confused. Nancy laughed.

“Yeah, actually. I mean, the kids are nice, and they entertain themselves while we get the excuse to hang out. The Sheriff and Joyce are actually engaged now.”

“Saving the world together really bonds people.” Robin added.

“I can imagine.” Barb said, having no choice but to just accept this reality. “Saved the world, huh?”

“Oh yeah. I mean, we mostly focused on behind the scenes stuff. El does most of the action.” Robin replied. Nancy took over to clarify.

“El is Mike’s girlfriend. She has superpowers.” Barb eyed Nancy, suspicious. “No, really, she does. Just don’t ask her about them, she doesn’t like being treated like a magician.”

“Okay, good to know?” Barb couldn’t believe a word she was hearing, but she figured she’d get to see it in the flesh soon enough.

“Oh, and we do a lot more than behind the scenes.” Nancy said, nudging Robin. “Lest we forget when you were literally tortured underground.”

“I actually do really try to forget that.” Robin muttered. Barb cleared her throat before speaking.

“Right. Wow, your problems really went from 0 to 100, Nance. Like, last we talked our biggest concern was our chem test and whether or not we were popular,” Barb said. Nancy chuckled dryly.

“Yeah. All that stuff seems kind of silly in hindsight.”

“And Nancy is a total babe with a shotgun, now.” Robin chimed in. “Owns multiple guns and is a great shot. Can you believe it?”

“Actually? Yeah. Nancy’s always been a badass.” Barb said, raising her eyebrows at her friend.

“Anyway.” Nancy said, uncomfortable with the attention. “We should get dressed. Barb, we’ll - I’ll find you something to wear.”

“And then I’ll find you something better.” Robin smirked.

“Right. Do you still want me to call your parents?” Nancy asked, nervously. Barb thought about this for a moment. She wanted to see her parents, of course she did, but they thought they’d lost their daughter for years now. They’d moved on, at least a little bit, and Barb’s reappearance was going to be a huge thing. She wasn’t ready to face that just yet.

“Maybe tomorrow.” Barb decided. Nancy nodded, with both understanding and relief, then got out of bed to start getting ready.

The girls got ready together with Blondie playing in the background. They chatted exclusively about timeless things - Barb couldn’t handle any more surprises. They did each other’s hair and makeup, joking and laughing with each other in a way that put Barb at ease. It became clear that Nancy and Robin had nothing that would go over Barb’s hips. She was embarrassed, at first, but Robin just shrugged it off.

“Here, put on the jeans you woke up wearing, we have time to go shopping before the party.” She suggested.

“I can just wear these.” Barb replied, gesturing to the ripped, stained jeans she had put on.

“No way. You’re going to be making a grand entrance - your big return to Hawkins, Indiana. You really think we’re gonna let you show up looking like anything less than the total babe you are?” Barb glanced at Nancy, overwhelmed.

“That’s just kind of how she talks. She’s right, though.” Nancy added. Barb was open to the idea of spending more time with these girls, so she agreed.

They went shopping together, and Barb let Nancy and Robin dress her. Every time she put something on in the dressing room, one of the girls threw something else over the door. It only took about fifteen minutes for them to find Barb the perfect dress.

“I think we have a winner.” Barb shouted from inside the dressing room.

“Come out, let’s see!” Robin encouraged. Barb emerged slowly, nervous to be seen in something as bold as the dress was. It was a pale yellow vintage dress - the kind that hugged tightly at the chest, then flared out around the waist. It looked like something Audrey Hepburn would wear. It was completely flattering to Barb’s curves, and unlike any article of clothing she’d ever owned. She looked at herself in the full length mirror, aghast. Nancy and Robin appeared in the mirror behind her shortly after.

“Total. Babe.” Robin said in approval.

“Barb, you have to get this.” Nancy insisted. She knew it was the kind of dress Barb had always imagined herself wearing at prom - of course, she’d never gotten to go.

“It’s way too expensive.” Barb said, disappointed. Nancy pulled at the price tag to check.

“No, it’s not. We’re getting it. Come on!”

~~~~|

They showed up to Dustin’s party about fifteen minutes late, although it didn’t really matter, as people were still trickling in. Robin had already called Steve that morning in secret, telling him to warn everyone he could about their surprise guest. The only people there that really knew Barb were already adjusted to the idea - other than Dustin, Mike, and Jonathan. But they didn’t really know her THAT well. Hopper obviously knew of the case, but he as well as everyone else was so used to chaos and people dying and coming back to life that he was hardly fazed. After all, he had “died” and come back, too.

“Do people know about…You and Robin? Steve and Eddie?” Barb asked Nancy in Steve’s backyard.

“These people do.” Nancy replied. “Like I said, they’re a good group.”

“Oh. Huh.” Barb said. As she stood in the corner of the backyard with Robin and Nancy, she inspected Steve and Eddie further from a few feet away.

Steve was at the grill, wearing an apron that said Kiss the Cook. Robin informed Barb that she’d gotten it for Steve as a joke, and Steve was basically like, “jokes on you, I needed an apron anyway.” It was strange to see Steve like this, so confident in his masculinity that he’d be wearing an apron in public, around the freaking Sheriff, sneaking flirtatious glances with the long-haired man in the denim vest and ripped jeans. She watched Eddie lean against the brick wall, smirking at Steve. At one point he tried to help Steve cook, although it was obvious he really just wanted an excuse to be physically close to his boyfriend. Eddie would reach around Steve to grab the spatula, and Steve would smack Eddie’s hand away, playfully annoyed. Barb was close enough to hear their banter.

“Sorry, I just - I got this, alright?” Steve said.

“I knowwww.” Eddie teased. “And it’s alright. You’ll just have to kiss it better.” Eddie held his hand up to Steve’s face. Steve grabbed it, bringing the back of his boyfriend’s hand to his lips briefly with a roll of his eyes, then threw his arm back down.

“Happy?”

“Ecstatic.”

They were perfect together. It was so weird.

“Barbara?” Nancy’s voice brought Barb back to the moment. “You okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just - They’re really cute, aren’t they?” Barb said, nodding towards the boys in question. Nancy chuckled.

“Yeah, it’s gross.” Nancy countered.

“I think it’s amazing.” Robin added. “I mean, Steve needed someone to rough him up a little, you know? Expand his mind, or whatever. Obviously, I loved him even when he was striking out constantly with women at Scoops Ahoy, but I gotta say, Eddie’s influence has really changed him for the better.”

“How so?” Barb asked.

“He’s just more…Well, he’s not pretending anymore, I guess.” Robin replied. Barb smiled. She liked that answer. “You ready to make your debut?”

Oh, right. There still was that. Barb was clearly overdressed to the event, which she realized as soon as they’d gotten to the party. That’s the reason she pulled Nancy and Robin to the back corner of the house - to hide from everyone else before they could see her.

“I stick out like a sore thumb.” Barb said, nervous. “I’m already the zombie girl, I just - It’s a lot of attention.”

“Yeah, but it’s the right kind of attention.” Nancy responded. “Look, let’s just get out there, and if you hate it, I’ll take you home. Well, my home.” Barb pondered this, then sighed.

“Okay. Here goes nothing.” The three of them walked into the backyard, in full view of the others. Barb saw many people she recognized - Dustin, who thankfully was talking to some girl about something and paying little attention. Jonathan, who was taking pictures and also therefore oblivious. Mike was hanging out with the girl Barb correctly assumed must be the one with superpowers, and holy crow. Puberty had hit Mike like a bus. He was tall and lanky now, but his mannerisms had at least stayed the same. Will Byers was next to him - He was also a lot taller than he had been the night of Barb’s disappearance. He no longer was the little kid on the Missing Person’s posters that had lined the halls of Hawkins High. He looked…healthy. Well-adjusted, despite what must have been a great deal of trauma. It gave Barb hope for her future.

“Come on, let’s go say hi to Steve and Eddie.” Nancy said, tugging at Barb’s arm. They walked together towards the grill, interrupting yet another cute moment - although those moments seemed to be constant, so Barb didn’t feel too bad about it. Eddie managed to look away from Steve towards the ladies approaching, then did an actual double take in Barb’s direction.

“Woah!” He said, his mouth agape. Barb waited for Eddie to continue his train of thought, but he didn’t.

“You look good, Barb.” Steve said with a sweet smile.

“Yeah, you clean up real nice. Prettiest former-dead chick I’ve ever seen.” Eddie finally managed to say. Barb blushed, far from accustomed to being complimented by boys.

“See? Told ya.” Robin whispered in Barb’s ear. She found herself giggling, and was finally able to relax into the dress she was wearing. They were interrupted by a loud, booming voice.

“You sure you know what you’re doing there, champ?” Barb turned to see the Sheriff, now outside of uniform - which was kind of like seeing your teacher in the supermarket.

“Yeah, I got it under control, Hopper, thanks.” Steve replied.

“Let me know if you need any help.” Hopper offered.

“I’d let him be, sir.” Eddie said, smirking. “With all due respect.”

“Watch your attitude, Munson. I’m still watching you.” Hopper’s eyes narrowed, and Barb couldn’t tell how intimidated she should feel about it. Maybe it was a joke between them, or maybe Eddie was often in trouble with the cops - it wouldn’t surprise her, considering what she knew about him already. Suddenly, a very tiny woman appeared right behind Hopper. She looked kind of like -

“Be nice, Hop. It’s a party!” She hooked her arm in the Sheriff’s and leaned into him. He happily brought her closer, kissing her on the top of her head. She smiled, then looked over at Barb in shock. “Oh.”

“Mrs. Byers.” Barb acknowledged, nervous. She continued to look at Barb, a million expressions crossing her face.

“Oh, please. Call me Joyce - I won’t be Mrs. Byers for much longer, sweetie.” Joyce’s arm slipped out from Hopper’s, and she took the chance to walk straight up to Barb, pulling her in for a hug. “Welcome home. Hawkins is happy to have you back.”

Barb had never really interacted with Joyce personally - I mean, it was a small town, so they knew each other, but they didn’t have a rapport. But at that moment, it didn’t matter what history they had, because everybody at this damn barbecue seemed to have some communal understanding of each other. Joyce was warm and comforting, and while her hug was nearly a little too long, Barb didn’t mind at all.

“Thank you, um. Joyce.” Barb finally said, overwhelmed. Joyce released her, and Barb locked eyes with Hopper next.

“I guess we have something in common, Miss Holland.” He said.

“We do?” Barb asked.

“We’ve both had funerals.” His joke was mediocre at best, and poorly timed. Still, Eddie and Robin couldn’t help but snicker.

“...Okay?” Barb replied. Hopper bit his lip, his eyes going slim.

“Sorry, I just - Don’t really know what to say here. I worked on your case, you know.”

“Was that before or after your funeral?” She asked. Hopper’s look of worry eased into a smile.

“Okay, well, uh. Welcome back, kid. And all that other stuff Joyce said.” He pulled Joyce back into him again. “She’s always been the words and feelings person.”

“And he’s always been the muscle.” Joyce added. “And the person who gets things off the top shelf for me.” She winked at Barb, then gestured for her and her fiancé to leave the teenagers in peace.

“Wow. I can’t believe I’m not even the first person at this barbecue that’s been resurrected.” Barb said, amused.

“You’re actually the third.” Nancy said. “Will technically had a funeral, too.” Barb paused for a moment, confused.

“Is this town….Like, are you guys okay?” Barb asked. Nancy and Robin glanced at each other, then to Eddie and Steve. All four answered at the same time.

“Nope.”

“Absolutely not”

“I mean…”

“We’ve been worse.”

Barb shook her head, laughing.

“This is all so crazy.” She repeated.

“Yeah, give it time.” Eddie said, patting Barb on the back. “Pretty soon you’ll look back on this and consider it a normal day - trust me.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” Barb agreed.

“Order up!” Steve exclaimed, spinning the spatula in his hand. “Bonjour, psychos.”

“I’m sorry. Did you mean bon appetit?” Robin said, laughing.

“Uh, yeah. What did I say?” Steve wondered. Barb and Nancy laughed with Robin, while Eddie just stared at his boyfriend in admiration. “Okay, well, sorry. I took Spanish in high school.”

“Right. And how’s that going?” Nancy teased him. Robin reached her hand out and high fived Nancy at her hip. Steve glared at them, then thought for a moment, searching for a comeback that never came. He sighed.

“You’re so lucky I don’t remember enough to insult you.” Steve untied the apron and set it on a nearby chair. “Food’s ready!” He shouted, loud enough for everyone to hear. He turned back to the girls. “Was that better?”

“Oui, c'est bien mieux.” Robin said. Steve scoffed while Eddie rolled his eyes, then both of them stuck their middle fingers up in Robin’s direction.

“Show-off.” Eddie muttered. They lowered their hands and intertwined them.

“You know, with love and all that.” Steve added to soften the blow. He could never truly be mean to Robin or Nancy, even in jest.

“You guys spend way too much time together. It’s honestly alarming how similar you’re becoming.” Nancy pointed out.

“That’s rich coming from you two.” Eddie said, gesturing to Nancy and Robin.

Their conversation screeched to a halt when everyone in the backyard appeared in line to get their food.

Barb wasn’t feeling that hungry, and besides - there was no way she was going to risk accidentally spilling on herself. So, while everyone else ate, she continued to observe the people around her. Dustin seemed happy, which was good considering this party was for him. He’d also had a growth spurt, but he still had the same goofy kid energy Barb remembered from before. He was with Eddie, doing what Barb could only describe as play-wrestling, which she thought was odd. Then again, the way guy friends interacted never really made sense to her.

“Hey. Uh, Barbara.” A soft voice said from behind her. Barb turned to see Jonathan Byers, a man she’d spoken to only once or twice in her life. He at least hadn’t changed in the slightest.

“Hi, Jonathan.” Barb responded. Jonathan awkwardly shifted his weight back and forth, fiddling with the buttons on his camera.

“I guess I just wanted to - “ He stopped himself, as if he shouldn’t say the thing he had wanted to. “Actually, I don’t really have anything to say.” They both chuckled awkwardly.

“That’s okay. I’m more or less getting the same reaction from everyone.” She responded.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” Barb furrowed her brow and lowered her voice, impersonating nobody in particular.

“Hey, uh, wow. Look at you, um, back from the dead. Must be Wednesday, ha ha. ” Jonathan laughed.

“Yeah, it’s been a pretty packed three years.”

“So I’m learning.” She responded with a nod.

“Do you want me to get you a drink or something?” He offered.

“Yeah, sure.” Barb agreed, smiling. Jonathan nodded, then walked a few paces to a cooler. He returned moments later with a bottle of water. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Barb noticed him looking past her, so she turned to follow his gaze. He was looking at Robin and Nancy. “Is it…Is it weird for you?” Jonathan’s eyes snapped back to Barb.

“Oh! Sorry. Well, honestly, yeah.” He said, chuckling. “I mean, we ended on good terms, just kind of went our separate ways. We wanted different things.” Barb tried not to smile at the fact he had almost the same explanation for the breakup as Nancy.

“Alright. So what have you been up to, then?” She asked him.

“Mainly spending time with Will. A-and our mom, although she’s mostly been busy planning the wedding.”

“Will’s doing okay?” Barb wondered. Jonathan smiled.

“Yeah, he is. I mean, he’s got a few things on his plate right now, but - “ Jonathan looked to his brother, who was still with Mike and El. “- He’s one of the best people I know.”

“Do you think it would be weird if I…talked to him?” Barb regretted it as soon as she’d said it. “Actually, forget I said that. It would totally be weird -”

“I actually think you should. Come on, I’ll introduce you.” Jonathan motioned for Barb to follow him across the backyard to Will, who smiled at his brother’s arrival. “Will, this is Barbara. She, uh-”

“I know who she is,” Will dismissed. “Nice to meet you, Barbara.” Will seemed kind. He was soft spoken and slightly awkward, just like Barb. And they’d both gone missing at the same time, so they were kind of like kindred spirits.

“Nice to meet you, too.” Barb knew she had specifically requested to talk to Will, but now that she was actually doing it, the words had fallen from her head. “Shoot. Sorry, I don’t mean to be awkward, I just-”

“I-it’s okay,” Will said, empathetically. “I remember how weird it was for me. To be back, you know. After missing so much.”

“Yes, exactly!” Barb said, thrilled someone actually understood. “So much has changed, I can’t even wrap my head around it.”

“Yeah, I only missed like a week and that was already insane to come back to. I think it’s impressive you’re acting as normal as you are.”

“Thanks, Will.” They smiled at each other in understanding, but then Barb turned to catch the eyes of Mike and El, who were watching her with unease. “Uh, hi you guys.”

“Hey.” Mike waved, non-committal, his discomfort obvious. Barb snuck a glance at Will and caught the way he looked at Mike - Barb knew that look well. She’d had that look before. Suddenly, another piece of the puzzle clicked together.

“You were - “ El began, processing what she was seeing. “You were gone.” She shook her head, unable to make sense of it.

“Trust me, I’m just as confused as you are.” Barb assured her.

“But I saw you -”

“Hey, hey.” Will said, cutting El off. “What matters is that she's here now.” Mike jumped in a moment later.

“It’s like when we found Will in the quarry, and then it turned out to be a fake body.”

“So what I saw…Barb in the Upside Down…That was fake?” El wondered.

“No, it’s a little different, but…” Mike thought for a moment on how best to explain it. “Remember when you saved Max? Someone must have saved Barbara, too.”

“Oh. Like Henry.” El’s eyes narrowed. Mike grabbed her hand quickly.

“No! No, not like him. Like -” Mike sighed. “Help me out, here?”

“Don’t look at me, I’ve been dead for three years.” Barb said. Suddenly, a mop of curly hair showed up beside them.

“Are you guys talking about how Barb came back to life? Because I have a theory,” Dustin began.

“By all means,” Barb said, permitting him to share.

“Okay, so we defeated Vecna, then the gates closed, and Max woke up - right?” Everyone nodded (except for Barb), listening intently. “Okay, so since Barb died in the Upside Down -”

“Everything reset.” Mike said, softly. “Barb was the only person killed in the Upside Down.”

“So when the Upside Down ceased to exist…” Will continued.

“Barb got a second life.” Dustin smiled, content with his theory.

“Huh,” Barb said, processing all of it. She had no memory of her death, and certainly didn’t feel the time that had passed. But, did the how of it all really matter? She was here now, with a great (albeit incredibly strange) group of friends - some old, some new - and she was accepted for exactly who she was. Hell, she was accepted for who she was and she was accepted as some zombie freak of nature. If they could still treat her as a normal girl after all that, she couldn’t imagine a single thing they wouldn’t accept, which was a very freeing feeling.

Barb had missed out on a lot. She didn’t get to graduate, or go to prom, or grow up. She hadn’t even had her first kiss, yet. She’d fallen asleep next to a douchebag’s pool at 16 years old, angry over being ditched by her best friend, and she woke up next to the same pool, except now she felt pretty and loved. Her future felt full of possibilities. The next day, she’d talk to her parents, and her life could actually be normal, finally.

She looked out across Steve’s backyard, admiring the people she knew were going to become like family. Everything seemed all right, now.

Barb chuckled to herself in disbelief. She’d conveniently missed the craziest and most dramatic part of her life, of her friend’s lives.

Maybe all of this was a blessing in disguise.

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

TAGLIST: @ofherscarlettwitchways @livvyshmiv @paintballkid711 @abraca-fxckyou @allbimyself26 @jellybabiesforall @allbymyselfexceptformycactus @aethermint @mysteriousxmidnight

Feel free to send requests! :)

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whentherewerebicycles · 7 months

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okay. i promised myself i would do some long reflective journaling to sort through some Big Feelings and I keep kicking the can down the road because idk sometimes you don't want to sort through the Big Feelings in case you don't like what you find there. but I have a morning of uninterrupted time and I am in a good headspace and I think I will just write through some stuff under the cut.

it sure looks like i might be having a baby next summer, which means that things are moving out of the hypothetical realm and into the realm of being Very Real. so i am experiencing the expected levels of "oh shit oh shit oh shit i am about to be responsible for a living being???" that i imagine all prospective parents experience. more than that, though, i think i am having to confront the reality of single parenthood in a more emotional way than i was expecting! and this is partly because it might be about to become real for me, but also because some people i love very much who are very close to me are pregnant now too, and i am watching them live an experience of pregnancy that is very different from the one i've had thus far and much closer to the socially "normal" path. and i think that is surfacing some unexamined and semi-unexpected feelings of grief/loss for me as well as a complicated mix of horrible bridge troll jealousy feelings. i want to write through some of that so i can get a better handle on what i'm feeling instead of letting the big emotions unexpectedly avalanche over me at random times.

let me think first about my own experience of getting pregnant.

I'm glad I am pregnant and I am extra, extra grateful that things are going well thus far after experiencing a pregnancy loss this summer that kind of turned me inside out for a while. I also know that despite how excruciatingly drawn-out this process has felt, I was able to get pregnant a lot faster/easier than many people are and I don't take that for granted. but man oh man I think getting pregnant via assisted reproduction can really fuck with your head and heart in ways I wasn't anticipating when I started this process a little over a year ago. everything is so intensely medicalized. my life has just been going to appointments and getting ultrasounds and having blood drawn and giving myself hormone shots and undergoing painful medical procedures and healing from an emergency surgery and reading medical journals and swallowing pills and recording symptoms in a tracking journal. I don't feel like I've spent this year preparing for and then actively trying to conceive a child; i feel like I've spent this year receiving intensive treatment for a medical condition (not being pregnant) that requires obsessive anxious monitoring and might be rooted in some deeper flaw or failing in my body. almost no part of this experience has felt private, intimate, precious, spontaneous, joyful, sacred, sexy, or fun in any way. it's all felt mediated by doctors and by an incredibly expensive industry that jacks up the prices knowing most people going this route don't have an alternative (because they're gay or they're single or they have medical conditions that impact their ability to conceive naturally). and the ectopic pregnancy just like intensified and heightened all of that, because all of a sudden i DID have a life-threatening medical condition and all that obsessive monitoring WAS justified and my body HAD fucked up, and everyone afterwards spent a lot of time warning me i'd need to subject myself to even closer monitoring next time because i was at increased risk of it happening again.

idk man it's just been a lot!!!!!! and i think that even though early on I was like "i'm going to try to carve out some part of this experience that can be just mine, separate from the medical aspects of assisted conception," i just kind of failed at doing that. i don't think it's my "fault" or whatever, because idk, there's a lot of cultural pressure to medicalize and pathologize and turn our bodies over to doctors or whatever, and it's hard to swim against the current, especially when you are stressed and spending a lot of money and willing to do whatever an expert tells you to do if it'll get you the thing you want so badly. so i don't blame myself but i also have to acknowledge that i haven't had a very positive experience of trying to get pregnant and i think that the single precious, sacred moment of this whole entire year was when that very kind very gruff tech let me watch the heartbeat on the ultrasound right before the surgery and then went to get warm blankets from the dryer to wrap me in. and maybe also the night that my mom and i had the little burial in the woods. that was it, those were the only sacred moments, and they were moments of deep and wrenching grief, not of joy. even finding out i was pregnant again only a few months after the loss wasn't really a moment of uncomplicated joy, because i was so immediately consumed by anxiety and so instantly sucked back into the vortex of endless medical monitoring. so idk i think i have some unresolved grief around the experience of trying to conceive/early pregnancy i got compared to the one i might've hoped for.

when i found out my SIL was pregnant, in the immediate aftermath of my own loss and on the same timeline i would've been on, i just spent a long time feeling like the most horrible bridge troll version of myself i could possibly imagine. i was just eaten up inside with jealousy and it wasn't just that she was having a joyful, healthy, uncomplicated experience of pregnancy while i was healing from a very raw and painful loss. it was also this feeling that like, she was supposed to be pregnant, she was expected to be pregnant, and the whole world was smiling joyfully upon her pregnancy, and everything was unfolding smoothly for her in ways that it hadn't for me. they're young, they're married, they own a house, they have two good incomes and will easily be able to support a family, she's thin and blond and very pretty, and (while i don't know this for sure) it seemed like they got pregnant for free on almost the first attempt, on the exact schedule they'd decided they wanted to have their first baby. and idk just watching my parents excitedly prepare for their first grandkid and make all these plans for how they'd be involved and coming out to tour fancy daycares with them just sucked! you can be so happy and excited for someone you love and also you can feel like the bitterest, ugliest, most horrid little bridge troll inside. i just felt like, i'm going it alone, i'm older and i have fertility issues that might make it impossible for me to do this, i make less money, i'll never own a house, i don't have a partner, blah blah blah, and even though most of those things are choices i've made about the type of life i want to live, it just felt like... idk. i was just eaten up inside by jealousy!!!! like i know nothing about their experience of trying to conceive or what her experience of pregnancy has been like so far, but my ugly inner troll voice was like, why was it so easy for them and hard for me, why did i have to pour $15,000+ into this process, why did they get to have fun joyful let's-create-a-future-together sex while i had to go to a doctor every other week to get stuck with needles and prodded with ultrasound wands and have an insanely painful cramp-inducing dye injected into my fallopian tubes, and why, WHY did our babies conceived at almost exactly the same time have such different fates.

i mean the answer is just like, this is the world we live in! this is the reality of being a queer person and an unpartnered person who wants a family! these are the life choices we make! this is the randomness of conception outcomes and a healthy dose of plain bad luck! but it was hard (and is hard) to not internalize the differences as like, something is Wrong With Me and something is Right With Them. and i think on the most basic level i was just jealous of their shared joy, and was feeling the ache of, i'm in this by myself, i have to weather this loss by myself, i am the only person who cares about this as deeply as i do. and of course that wasn't wholly true, of course i had my mom and my sister and my closest friends who grieved with me and took such good care of me, but idk. i think it stirred up some feelings about being unpartnered for me that i hadn't really examined all that closely before.

and i think... like... i think that is probably the other big piece that i am going to have to spend time grappling with, maybe for a long time, maybe for the rest of my life! with my students, we often talk about the idea of animating questions, like the big preoccupations you find yourself wrestling with again and again, these questions that won't ever be resolved because they don't have a simple or straightforward answer. they are questions you don't ever answer once and for all, but wrestling with them over the years is what gives shape and meaning to your life as a person on a quest for purpose, for clarity, for deeper understanding. i am carving out a life path for myself that looks different from most of the people around me and i think that sometimes i really really wrestle with the question of, like, does this path represent a failure or a choice? and if i have chosen this path have i made that choice out of cowardice or from a place of strength?

i still have to untangle what i mean here or what i feel around this, but i think like... i don't know... i don't really crave partnership, i don't feel its absence in my adult life, i have cared deeply about past romantic partners as people but i have always felt immensely relieved when relationships end because i get my own space & life back, and i feel like almost all of my human emotional needs for connection are met through my friendships and my work. i like sex and i like the idea of a live-in best friend but i also feel pretty sure that modern dating on the apps is not the avenue through which i would find that person and i don't really know of other ways to go about building relationships like that at this stage in my life. but idk man the cultural PRESSURE you feel to do the expected life path thing is immense!!!! and i think that while most of the time i'm able to set that pressure aside and just live my life, the decision to have a child on my own suddenly reignites all of those uncertainties and some of that shame around like, why isn't this a thing i want, does it mean i am emotionally stunted in some way, will it impact my ability to parent well, blah blah blah.

i suspect i will spend a LOT of time in this next chapter of my life trying to untangle those feelings, so i am not going to put too much pressure on it now!! i just want to begin naming them so they aren't just like, swirling around in the back of my mind seeping into everything. i think what i can say definitively right now is this:

i have never felt a strong impulse towards or yearning for romantic partnership, and thinking about dating mostly just makes me feel tired and like i would be doing it for other people, not for myself. if i really think about it, i can imagine myself in a shared partnership with someone who shares my interests and values and sense of humor, but i truly can't imagine getting there through hinge or bumble or whatever. maybe that is where the sense of tiredness comes from when i think about dating, lol.

that said... i HAVE, for a very long time, felt a very strong impulse towards becoming a parent. i feel nervous about this (money! time! blowing up your life! being responsible for a small person!) but i feel no ambivalence towards it, you know? i want to be a parent and i think i'll be good at being a parent (i mean i am sure i will also feel like i am a Very Bad Parent for much of the time as that seems to be a feature of parenting, but on the whole i feel confident in my ability to provide the love and stability and structure necessary to raise a reasonably happy, well-adjusted kid). i have never been able to imagine a life where i do not become a parent by some route and i feel a deep, wrenching sadness when i imagine a life where i don't raise a family.

i think the sense of total clarity and joy i feel around the choice to parent vs. the profound ambivalence i feel around the idea of dating signals something important! but it is just challenging, you know, to carve out a life for yourself that goes a little or a lot against the grain of what other people's lives look like and what people think would make you happy. i know i am very VERY lucky that over the past five-ish years my parents have gone from being extremely skeptical or worried about my life path to 10000000% supportive and on board and ready to help me make it work. but i also just think i gotta wrestle with the cultural demons in my own head/heart you know!! i am going to have to work hard to get to the point where i feel really secure in my choices!! i know that the horrid bridge troll feelings about other people conceiving easily in the context of happy marriages are normal and okay to feel - it's just human to wish that your own journey was easier, simpler, cheaper, less painful. but i also think that, as liz says all the time, security (in yourself and in your choices) is a gift you give to yourself and everyone around you. i might not be there yet, but i want to work hard to get to a point where i am so secure in the choices i have made that i can experience other people's experiences and choices as simply theirs, not as a reflection or a shaming judgment on mine. i want to be able to say, i am so happy for you, and i am also so happy for me, because we have both worked hard to create the lives we needed and wanted for ourselves, and now we get to live in them. I want to know with total certainty that I, not other people, get to decide what my life means.

but also.... i want to think of this journey not just in terms of Struggling to Make Peace With My Choices but also in terms of like... sometimes taking a different path can produce unexpected joys that people on the regular path won't get to experience. for instance, i can already tell that my mom and my sister are going to be incredibly involved in raising my kid, and that my parents are going to feel an extra sense of responsibility to provide my child with a life that is incredibly rich and full of love. so i am going to have a life that is rich in family relationships, maybe richer than it would've been if i was part of a traditional nuclear family unit. i am going to have to learn to depend on and lean on other people in wholly new ways, which will challenge me (a person who tends towards insularity and independence) to really stretch and grow. i am also going to get to have a different experience of parenting in the home! i am going to have to learn to work things out with my kid without another adult there to help mediate conflicts. we are going to have to figure out how to be a good, functioning team because we are going to have to share responsibility differently than in a two-parent household. and i hope that through this experience i also get to meet and talk with other single parents (something tumblr has already allowed me to start doing!), and i get to develop a deeper, richer understanding of alternative family structures and life paths that don't look like other people's.

i want to be honest: there is some real grief there! i have chosen a life that is different than the one i hazily imagined for myself as a younger person... and already that has meant that i've had a very different experience of trying to conceive/being pregnant than the people closest to me, which has sometimes felt very painful and lonely. and i imagine that as i navigate parenting i will have to keep grappling with the grief of like, living in a culture where it's not "normal" to parent alone, where other people will judge the choices i make, and where i will be missing out on some of the joys of shared childraising i see other people around me experiencing. but i don't know i guess i just have faith in my ability to make meaning out of my life, and i think that the grief will be counterbalanced by joys i'm not able to anticipate from this vantage point because i haven't lived them yet.

and also if i stop for a second and think: would i rather not go down this path at all? the answer comes back to me so clearly and so immediately. of course not. i want you so badly, little seahorse. i'm so ready for you to come into my life. i'm ready to shed my old self, my old life, and become somebody wholly new, in a wholly new relationship with a wholly new human being. hey! i love you! come here and be my baby!

#iui tag #parenting tag #feeeeeelings #personal #mw #i feel a lot better journaling cures almost everything #and thank you to everyone who has been v kind to me over the past few months. <33333

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argentumcor · 3 months

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A flare-up of Arkham Trilogy fandom has been triggered, and so I spent entirely too much money on the Arkham Knight Genesis comic. Art is nice, writing is pretty good. I'm not a comic person, and find most comics to have ugly art these days, but this one (and Soulfinder from Iconic Comics) impressed me.

I always liked this version of Jason coming back best since I heard of the character. A plot device like a Lazarus Pit needs to be kept to a minimum because otherwise it just breaks everything and the Arkham version where the Pits are nearly exhausted and restricted to the Ra's plots is the best way to approach them. Jason being crazy because of torture and not mystical woo-woo side effects offers more interesting directions to go in to me, problems that can't be easily solved because they are choices he made while at least somewhat in possession of his faculties.

Man, I thought the backstory I cooked up for Arkham's Jason was dark but the canon one is darker. I had it where he never knew his dad and his mom was an addict who OD'd when he was young, but in the comic both parents are meth addicts who tried to sell him to the mob to pay their debts, which didn't work because that's nuts even in Gotham, and so abused him until he was thirteen, when Jason sold them out to the mob and watched them get killed in exchange for getting a small bit of turf where he was left alone to do small time crime.

I always liked the version of him meeting Batman by trying and semi-succeeding at stealing the wheels off the Batmobile, but the Arkham version where he saves Batman's life during a tussle with the Joker is a better fit for this universe.

There's conflict between the game City Stories version of how he got caught and the comic one. The game one is much darker, from what drove Jason after Joker (horrible murder and mutilation of children at a school in the game vs. pride I think in the comic) to the actual getting caught (Jason's hubris and sense of righteousness making him very stupid in the game vs. purely a trap the Joker laid in the comic). The game lore version of events is better, though harder to depict I think in the pages the comic had for various reasons.

One thing stands out about Arkham Jason: everyone in his life had given up on him from the moment he was born...except Bruce and the family. Bruce met him for only a few minutes at most and saw that Jason could be more than just another doomed rat in the dirty alleys of the city, wanted in some way to be more (Arkham Knight Jason disputes this in narration but it's clear from what happened that's the case). But a lifetime of being given up on doesn't just vanish in a year-ish of being really valued- and Joker brilliantly weaponized it against Jason and in doing so against Batman.

The comic is from Jason's bitter angry broken pre-Arkham Knight POV but there are hints that the darkness hasn't consumed him. I think Dick naming Tim as his brother in a fight hurt him- because I think they would have had that bond before Jason was taken and 'Tim as my replacement' is a big thing for Jason. He's ruthless, yes, and apathetic to the world around him but he sees that Bruce has a memorial to him in the Batcave and it triggers really intense emotions- anger because that's almost all he has anymore and then something else he can't and refuses to even try to process.

That's why, I think, Bruce extending a hand to Jason at the end of the boss fight destroyed the Arkham Knight. I also think that getting Gotham to evacuate civilians was Jason's idea. There's no logic to it from Scarecrow's POV; more people in the city would mean more fear to, uh, imbibe. It's not that Jason is worried about collateral damage, exactly, it's that he isn't totally gone. You can see that in the game audio logs. I wish we would have gotten an encounter with him and Dick, either as the Knight or as Red Hood. I think the rivalry there with Tim is built in as a matter of history and personality but with Dick there's a brotherhood that got broken through no fault of their own.

The Red Hood smart-assery is also present in the narration in the comic. I think it was there with the Arkham Knight, too, here and there, but he's on the furious hunt in most of what you hear from him so there isn't a lot of room for it.

#arkhamverse #arkham knight #jason todd

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cerastes · 2 years

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Due to the way the world of Arknights is structured, with its myriad of irons on different stoves, it’s easy to think everything is more or less a different problem unrelated to the other doomsdays and Catastrophes (capitalized or otherwise) happening all around Terra, and in some cases, whether it be because we don’t know much about the issue at hand or because the relevance of Originium is not quintessential to said issue as it is in others, it’s true: What we know of Kjerag so far suggests that Originium is not terribly protagonistic, and the capitalist hellscape that is Kazimierz doesn’t really have anything to do with Originium, with the sole link being the discrimination towards the Infected, but even if you don’t take the Infected into account and decide Originium doesn’t exist, Kazimierz is still a capitalist hellscape.

Now, another such scenario that is easy to think of as completely unrelated to Originium and, hell, most of Terra for the most part is what’s going on with the Aegir, the Abyssal Hunters, and the Seaborn. However, the more we learn and the more you think about it, that is not the case. These are actually very intimately related issues narratively speaking. The troubles of Aegir are a warning to the surface, the biggest warning there is.

Let’s put it this way:

What’s the deal with Originium? It’s a scarcely understood substance that exists in Terra, explicitly, in the surface. It can be harnessed for great industrial power and is even the root of the so-called Originium Arts, where Terrans harness the residual Originium in their bloodstream to bend the laws of physics or radically alter the chemistry in and around them to produce “magic”: Psychic colossi, fireballs, pure darkness, power over gravity and time, you name it. And the more Originium one has in their bloodstream, the stronger their Arts. However, Originium is fundamentally dangerous, with Oripathy, or Originium Infection, being a lethal, terminal illness one can only stave off, and the sheer abuse of Originium has led to the residues directly causing Catastrophes, intense weather events that can include thunderstorms, tornados, earthquakes and even meteor showers. That’s not to talk about how Originium’s sheer industrial utility has resulted in incredibly morally bankrupt practices despite how dangerous it is, being one of the most used and abused substances in the setting for practically everything and anything. It’s a society that has largely grown dependent on its own poison. Worse still, it’s implied Originium is sentient and actively wants to kill Terrans very, very much, and those who are particularly badly infected tend to hear voices that try to command them to do horrible things to others.

Now, let’s think about the troubles of the world beneath the water’s surface: Aegir has incredibly advanced technology, what little we’ve heard has made it obvious that the level of technology and quality of life of Aegir was far, far superior to anything the surface world has ever seen. Skadi and Specter, separately from one another, have complained that the surface doesn’t even have automatic toilets, and when Ventus, in his fully transformed Seaborn form, starts charging a beam, Skadi immediately identified it as a “particle beam”, meaning that Aegir not only likely has plenty of research involving molecules and particles, they may even have particle beam cannons themselves. In fact, Gladiia confirms that the reason Abyssal Hunters use weapons such as swords and spears instead of their supertechnology is so Seaborns cannot copy it and adapt to it. However, think about what Seaborns are: A barely understood, sentient cluster of organisms that exists to evolve, expand, and reproduce, even if it means taking over the Aegir capital. There was no space for dialogue. To combat this incredibly dangerous threat that only grew stronger day by day, Aegir decided to create the Abyssal Hunters: Aegirians spliced with Seaborn genes. This resulted in incredibly capable supersoldiers capable of defeating even the biggest Seaborn monstrosities without the aid of their supertechnology... At the cost of possibly becoming Seaborn themselves, if the mutations got out of control or if their mental stability was sufficiently compromised, turning into one of the enemy. It is unknown what has become of Aegir, with only a few confirmed survivors of the Hunters (a mere four as of Stultifera Navis: Skadi, Specter, Gladiia and Ulpian).

Aegir is a warning to Terra.

Both Aegir and Terra are fighting enemies they barely comprehend, enemies that cannot be identified as people, but rather, as a force of nature, sentient and hostile and utterly incomprehensible. The closest thing to communication to either of these forces is Mizuki, who comes from a specific group of Seaborn that seems to be the exception rather than the rule. Enemies that encompass the environment itself, enemies that can’t be identified as a unified army under a ruler with a clear, predictable intent. Aegir and Terra might as well be fighting the world’s will, for all they know. The Ocean is sentient and hates Aegirians’ guts, and it’s so pronounced that you don’t even need to be a Hunter to reciprocate, as we learned with Thorns: He heard the Ocean call him out, saw a Seaborn popping out from the water, and without really understanding it himself, strongly felt “I am meant to kill that thing”. There’s nothing to suggest the soil itself is any different. For all we know, Originium might be a way in which the Earth is trying to kill off those who deal it.

But regardless of the truth behind Originium, it is fact that comparing Originium to the Seaborn is very easy:

They both grant incredible power to those who harness them, at the cost of subjecting themselves to incredible danger. Originium grants powerful Originium Arts, Seaborn genes turn you into a nigh-unkillable, exceedingly strong Abyssal Hunter, but Originium is a terminal, deteriorative illness, and Seaborn genes will eventually, inevitably turn you into a Seaborn, another vehicle with which to kill your loved ones. The Corrupting Heart is a hypothetical case of Skadi not being able to resist her Seaborn blood, turning into an all-assimilating apocalypse scenario. Ifrit, on the other hand, can potentially be an all-destroying force of nature if she’s not kept in check and under treatment diligently.

They both chew at the sanity of the subject. Skadi and Gladiia both struggle in different levels to keep their Seaborn mutation under check not unlike how Ifrit and Ptilopsis struggle to keep the voices inside of them from making them harm themselves and others.

They both are sentient yet incomprehensible, hostile and alien existences that humans cannot communicate with or relate to in any way, and could even be considered to be the will of the very environment or planet itself, depending on how you read them. *Mizuki being a very extreme exception.

Perhaps one could consider the tale of Aegir, lost in the depths with nary a peep in decades, to be a warning for the rest of Terra: Harnessing the very power that wants to kill you might not be the best idea, and a direct fight against the very nature around you can only result in defeat, perhaps instant, perhaps prolonged, but defeat nonetheless.

But given that the surface world, for the most part, already runs on Originium... Well, who can say where this will lead in the narrative?

#arknights #originium #seaborn

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borderlinereminders · 1 year

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Can I ask you a question? My therapist tried to reassure me that things tend to get better for ppl with BPD when they are in their 30s, but I'm 19 right now and it feels horrible, and that is so far away to hurt so much, how did you manage to get through it? I'm trying so hard and it feels like everything sucks anyways, especially because I'm physically disabled too :(

I didn't have some major break through, or life changing thought process that fixed things for me.

I held on to little things until I was ready to try and recover.

It was little things like when I'd have suicidal thoughts, I'd tell myself things like "my dog won't understand why I don't come home". I'd remind myself of the new season of my show I wanted to see. I'd find little things to look forward to.

Overall, I'd tell myself "you can kill yourself any time. It doesn't have to be now. Why not stick it out and reassess later? What is there to lose by trying?" People have definitely expressed a dislike for that train of though of mine but it worked for me.

I also want to say that while a lot of people experience things getting better in their 30's, that isn't always the case. Maybe she was trying to reassure you that it wouldn't always feel this way and not set you up for unrealistic expectations. But I can understand why it feels discouraging and I think she should have approached that better with you.

For me, things started getting better a lot sooner. I started managing my symptoms bit by bit. Things like finding skills for working on my harmful urges (these usually led to my friendships failing which just added to my hurt at the time) or finding ways to self soothe and cope made it all suck a little less in the moment. I focused on the good. A lack of emotional permanence can make that hard because when it feels bad it feels like everything is bad. But I'd focus on little things like "oh, a book I'm excited for is coming out" or "I can't wait to go cuddle my dog". I intentionally had to walk myself through and do these things, but I realized at some point that they come more naturally to me now.

I didn't focus on a big goal. I just focused on working on little things and over time I realized that I was doing so much better. I think one important thing to remember is it doesn't happen overnight. And I don't say this to be discouraging but to be encouraging. What I mean by this is you aren't just magically better one day. It's a gradual thing and isn't always linear. This means that it likely won't hurt to this intensity the entire time you're trying to get through things. ( I noticed at some point that while I still had bad days, they were usually less severe and less frequent). And maybe it'll feel more manageable a lot earlier than you expect.

#sorry #this is all over the place #april answers #tw suicide #also just letting you all know #this isn't at this anon specifically #that i do have an advice blog #it's pinned in my pinned post #and it's where i prefer to get asks

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manicpiscesdreamgorl · 7 days

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The Urge

Just having made it to Rivington, Zar’riia faces her Urge again. Thankfully she doesn’t face it alone.

Tags: durgexastarion, named durge, hurt comfort.

Zar’riia tossed in her sleep, the Urge calling to her, beckoning her to kill. She needed to figure out how to get away from camp. She couldn’t bear the thought of hurting one of her companions, especially after the sleepless night she had been tied up after almost killing Astarion. She couldn’t do that to him again, and her stomach churned at the thought of killing any of the people she had come to love so dearly. She rolled quietly, untangling herself from the trancing embrace of Astarion, and stood to leave the tent. She had to clear her head; she had to control the Urge.

“Zar’riia?” Her lover’s voice was raspy. She stopped and turned to look at the pale elf, his curls a mess, his eyes bright and alert.

“Sh, love. Rest. I just need to clear my head,” she whispered, not daring to kneel or get close in case the Urge took control of her body.

“It's the Urge, isn’t it? It came back,” he said, standing up and looking her over. Her eyes were glassy, and her hands trembled violently.

“Yes. I need to walk. I need to get away from camp before it takes over,” she replied, her words soft but hurried.

“Darling, you have to tell me when this happens. We are a team, you and me. You can’t keep waiting until things get murderously bad—not just for my sake, for the others and yourself,” he said, his gaze softening at his dagger-happy lover.

“This isn't your burden, Astarion. It’s mine. I don’t want to hurt or scare you. The Urge is something I must carry the weight of alone,” her hands trembled as she anxiously fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve.

“Riia, you are not alone in this. I told you that before. You have helped me so much, shown me so much light; let me do the same for you,” he stared into her silvery-blue eyes as he talked. He could see she was still in control, but he did not know how long he had until the Urge overtook his sensitive, sweet, sometimes terrifying partner. He needed to do something soon, and letting his homicidal maniac walk around Rivington did not seem like a good idea.

“Fine,” she conceded. “I’m scared. This isn’t me. Please help.” Tears began welling in her eyes, and she blinked them away quickly.

“You’re right. This isn’t you. You can do this, darling. You can beat this. Come here; I kept some rope in our tent in case this happened again. The others do not have to see your shame if they wake up. We will ride this out together.”

She climbed back into his tent, and they had both begun to share since making their relationship official. Tears silently slipped down her pale purple cheeks. She had never cried in front of Astarion before, but everything felt so overwhelming. She was scared of herself, what her party was up against, and of losing everything she had built for herself.

Why was he being so nice to her? Didn’t he see she was a monster? Whoever she was before, the nautiloid scared her. She did not deserve the companionship and love those around her gave so freely. She tried so hard the past month to be good to change; after her murder of Alfira, she had vowed to overcome this. She promised to atone for her sins. But tonight, the burden of the Urge felt too heavy, too intense.

“Little love, what’s going on? Are you hurt?” Astarion asked, rushing to her side, oncoming homicidal tendencies be damned. Tears fell from her eyes, cascading down her cheeks like waterfalls. His heart crumbled watching his partner cry; he had never seen this side of Zar’riia. She looked terrified and more vulnerable than he had ever seen her.

“I am so scared. What if I ruin everything? I don’t even know who I was before the nautiloid. I know I was a horrible person to be cursed with this killing perversion. I am so scared of my past, and I feel like we are about to confront it head-on in the city. The Urge has been stronger since we left Reithwin,” she sobbed, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Zar’riia, you know I am the last person to judge you for anything you may have done in your past. I have done some…horrible things because Cazador used me to do his bidding. You have shown me it is possible to change and find the world's light. You have shown that you are capable of change. And whatever is waiting for you in the city, we will face it together. We are a team,” he said, wrapping her in a hug, as she had done after he met that vile drow blood merchant when he confessed his feelings and revealed more of his past. Urge be damned.

She cautiously wrapped her arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder. He held her until the sobs stopped racking her body, and she pulled away. Her eyes glazed over, her hands twitching, and her lips curled into a cruel sneer. The Urge had taken over his darling’s body.

Zar’riia’s mind filled with yellow bile, and her vision was blurred. Every fiber of her being screamed, ‘Kill. Kill. Kill. And kill again.’ Astarion grabbed the rope and quickly bound her hands and ankles together, lowering her to the ground as she snapped at him and spasmed, trying to break free of her bindings.

“You will get through this, Riia. You are stronger than this. Dawn will be here before you know it.” He whispered as he watched his mad love writhe and twitch on the floor.

Zar’riia tried to show she understood and was going to make it through, but she was spasming too violently, her teeth gnashing together, her mouth filling with blood as she accidentally bit her tongue. Her Urge spit the blood at him; she swore she would see his blood bloom over his white curls as she twitched.

He watched, not daring to get too close to her. He knew this was not her, but he was terrified that the sweet half-drow, who had just been sobbing in his embrace, so quickly turned into this bloodthirsty killer.

Hours passed as he watched his partner convulse and threaten him with all sorts of very imaginative, violent imagery. He sighed, grateful to have met her, but seeing her turn into a carrion creature broke his heart. It reminded him too much of his worst self. They needed to figure out how to save her, to control her Urge. They would both break their chains in the city. He hoped that he might convince her to stay with him after this brain business. But first, they both had to kill the demons that haunted them day and night.

Dawn finally arrived; pink and oranges painted the sky outside the tent as the sun rose. Astarion looked down at Zar’riia; she had stopped convulsing, and her silver eyes were bright and alert again. She sat stock still and silent as he cut her free. Her wrists and ankles were bloody from where she had struggled against her bindings. She rubbed her wrists and looked up at him, tears welling in her eyes again.

“I am so sorry,” she sobbed, her body aching and tired. Astarion once again wrapped her in an embrace, stroking her soft spider-silk hair and breathing in her scent. She melted into the hug, tears slipping down her cheeks as she held him tightly, scared to let him go. He did not say a word. He didn’t need to. He had her back, through her darkness, through everything, just as she did for him.

#astarion #dark urge #astarion x durge #named durge #female half drow #bg3 #hurt/comfort

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truly-quirkless · 3 months

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Twenty Day Challenge - Day Thirteen

Burnout, exhaustion, so on and so forth.

He has gotten so used to pushing past his limit.

Honestly, if it weren't for the forced time limit from his fight with AFO, he probably would've kept it up.

But by that time his private life (what little was left) had fallen totally apart.

Beating AFO/being injured by him actually gave Toshinori some of his life back, if that makes sense.

Still struggles with feelings of being burnt out/overused on the regular.

Will go home and disassociate for hours.

He doesn't even realize- he'll just sit down on his couch and stare.

When he starts training Midoriya, this starts to fade.

He starts actually living while at home again.

Thanks to his Hero work he didn't exactly have a lot to do at his place, so his apartment (and 'All Might's home') is spotless.

No posters, but there are some drag marks on the wall from years of leaning against it when he came home.

Then he joins U. A. and meets Fin and everything.

Just starts living more and more.

Not for work, but for himself.

Literally revives this man from an early (by his standards) grave.

If it weren't for Midoriya and going to U. A. he probably would be nothing but a literal husk still.

When exhaustion and burnout do hit he tries to power through, but it's getting harder as he gets older.

Exhaustion is so much easier to deal with than burnout.

His coworkers (and his soulmate) sometimes force him to take a day or two of personal leave.

This man's energy is random, these days. One day he'll feel like he could run a marathon, the next...cannot get up from bed.

Big case of 'gifted kid burnout' after they graduated HS/their brother was finally arrested.

Forgot what it meant to really 'live' after they were transferred to Japan.

Felt like they lost all agency in their life, what little they'd managed to get.

Just fell into a near-blind state of working.

If it weren't for the cat they adopted (Prism) when they moved, they might've lost it entirely.

Will actively work even if they feel like absolute shit.

Has shown up to work while horribly ill multiple times (only to be sent home).

The last (and final) straw for Thirteen was one of Fin's two fainting incidents- when they fainted in the bathrooms just outside one of the sites, Thirteen had them sent home (driven by one of the few coworkers who learned where they lived).

Often doesn't have the energy for their side-projects, it's not hard to tell they have abandoned projects because the sketchbooks/journals hidden under their blankets are stuffed with ideas.

Always leaves work exhausted.

Often takes on the work of their colleagues when said coworkers are tired/under the weather.

Doesn't realize how work-centric their life has become until they start talking to the kids/meet Yagi.

As time goes on life starts to feel--- more colorful??? More like living.

Confuses them so much but they just go with it.

Takes a while for them to realize that they have the energy to do things again- instead of just sliding through the motions.

How they managed to act so peppy at work while feeling empty is beyond them.

Has what they like to call 'shut downs' and 'lock ins' when they get too stressed/expend too much energy (more than they have).

Shut Downs - It feels like their brain just- shuts down. No thoughts, they just stare blankly. Don't move if prompted. Don't react. Might cry if someone makes them laugh. Quiet mumbles at best, any noise/interaction/etc. feels like knives in their head. They feel emotions a lot more intensely during a Shut Down, and can more easily be provoked to a facial reaction- but that's about it.

Lock Ins - Their mind is still going just fine, usually happens right after a Shut Down. Their body stops responding to any and all external stimuli. Can't move. Can't speak. They might get stuck making a repetitive motion or uttering the same phrase over and over until it becomes gibberish (not to be confused with one of their panic attack symptoms). All the while, their brain is fully functioning and aware- they can think, but it's like they can't get their mind to force their body to move or act. They're trapped in their own head until a Lock In breaks on its own. Similar to a Shut Down in that any amount of stimuli outside of the smallest thing feels absolutely horrible.

If they push their mental energy beyond a certain limit, Fin will enter into a Shut Down- followed by a Lock In. They cannot control this, and often will retract/hide from others if they can, when it begins.

If both are exhausted/burnt out...

They don't really do much, honestly.

Might lounge in bed, brushing each other's hair.

At best there might be LoFi music playing at Fin's request.

Might sit and watch the view outside the window together.

Literally just-- nothin'.

They're chillin', let them be.

Comfortable silence if there is no music/LoFi.

#Together we run/Til we see the morning light || Queue #When you’re close to breakin’/Let me be your haven tonight || Cracked Facades #Writer's Yearly Challenge || 2024 #I’ve got nothing else to lose/I’ve got nothing else to prove || Headcanons #//am I tired? Yes #//but is nice to get this out

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vienrose · 6 months

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I'm gonna be mean.... all the horrible questions for Jisoo 😘

@lunaxriax you better read all of these

01: Accomplishyou have a good relationship with your parents? - I did until they decided to marry me off to some guy. They didn't take it too well when I left the house; 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? - Cho Hyungsik; 03: Do you regret anything? - Not answering my sisters call that day... 04: Are you insecure? - I don't think I am. Had to learn not to be in my field of work; 05: What is your relationship status? - Taken; 06: How do you want to die? - In my sleep; 07: What did you last eat? - Nacho chips; 08: Played any sports? - Played a little volleyball in high school; 09: Do you bite your nails? - Nope; 10: When was your last physical fight? - In my childhood? I was maybe 8 years old, had a fight over a barbie doll with my sister; 11: Do you like someone? - Very much yes; 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? - More than I should; 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? - No; 14: Do you miss someone? - Yes; 15: Have any pets? - Sadly no; 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? - Hungry; 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? - Had that experience, yes; 18: Are you scared of spiders? - No, I think they are cute; 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? - I would. For one day; 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? - My kitchen; 21: What are your plans for this weekend? - Glass of wine, a good movie, some cuddling maybe? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? - Yes. Two max; 23: Do you have piercings? How many? - I have. 5 in total; 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? - History and math; 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? - No; 26: What are you craving right now? - Sweet potatoes; 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? - I don't think so? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? - Not that I was aware. Would say no; 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? - Not in front of my face; 30: What’s irritating you right now? - That I have to go to the store; 31: Does somebody love you? - I hope so; 32: What is your favourite color? - Black and red; 33: Do you have trust issues? - Sometimes; 34: Who/what was your last dream about? - My last case. That one was intense; 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? - My sister; 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? - I do; 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? - Forgive; 38: Is this year the best year of your life? - I would say, yes; 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? - 17; 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? - God no, that's against law; 51: Favourite food? - Fried chicken; 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? - Yes; 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? - Read a book; 54: Is cheating ever okay? - Nope; 55: Are you mean? - Not at all; 56: How many people have you fist fought? - None; 57: Do you believe in true love? - Yes; 58: Favourite weather? - Winter, snowy days; 59: Do you like the snow? - Very much; 60: Do you wanna get married? - I do; 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? - I love it; 62: What makes you happy? - Hugs, compliments; 63: Would you change your name? - No; 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? - Not at all, could kiss him for hours; 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? - Wish them to find someone else; 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? - Of course; 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? - My boss... 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? - My sister; 69: Do you believe in soulmates? - Yes; 70: Is there anyone you would die for? - My sister and the person I love.

#Jisoo;replies #Jisoo;closet

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louisthiccsexyglitteryass · 10 months

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Something I think about a lot

This is mainly just a generalized 'thought' but I will be using fandom-specific references to reinforce what I mean, because sometimes I can't articulate.

Often, celebrities are given a 'unique' angle by the media. This could be any number of things, and in the case of Harry Styles, from 16/17 years of age, he was 'a Womaniser'.

But a womaniser is someone who mistreats women, not dates.

Dating, as I'm sure all sensible people know, is simply going out with someone. Dating often means one or two dates and then breaking up. It's how you get yourself out there.

But the way the media acts is that if a man or woman who happens to be famous goes out with someone and a similar thing happens (which I'm sure we can all agree is just how life works), they're a womaniser. Or a slut. Or a tramp.

Being comfortable with going on dates and wanting to be casual is, for some reason, not ok if you're famous. If you're famous, you must settle down with someone.

But not too early.

If you're famous, you must be faithful.

But not boring.

If you're famous, you must love your partner.

But you can't be too open about it.

Anything a celebrity does is held under a microscope. Everything is so heavily scrutinised that you cannot do anything without fear of repercussion.

Mistakes cannot be made.

Now, I will acknowledge, men have it much better than women.

A man can be a player, etc. But a woman is a whore. A man is congratulated, a woman is scorned. A man is just messing around, a woman is involved in a sex scandal.

But we need to realise that all celebrities can be seen like this.

And now with the existence of cancel culture and the likes, it is worse.

An army rallies to point the finger of blame when a couple breaks up, allegations swoop around and insults are thrown into the abyss. Sometimes fake, which ruins a reputation far beyond repair because someone said something that might mean something.

Celebrities do horrible things, yes. Sometimes they can be intensive, yes. Sometimes it appears that they flaunt their wealth when people are dying, yes.

But they're human too.

The fundamentals of humanity are that we make mistakes, and that's ok, and some make more than others, which is fine. The bottom line is, is that we're imperfect, and emotions are messy and an tangled web or misunderstandings and dodgy sources.

Humanity is imperfect.

But humanity is humanity, and judging someone for going on a date when you just encouraged your friend to get themselves back out there and go the casual route for a while? That's just harsh.

Humans are judged by appearance.

You're too skinny, not skinny enough, you're not pale enough, you're too pale, you're too tall, not tall enough. You have a slutty chest, you're flat. Your ass is too big, it's not big enough. Too muscular, not muscular enough.

There are so many pressures on all of humanity, and those in the public eye experience it too.

Think about songs.

It's easy to find a lyric that says 'oh, you're ok, you have something you're insecure about but I don't mind because it's beautiful because its who you are'.

We can acknowledge these, but we can't have them. You can mention them, but not too much. Now you're ranting and its getting old.

We can't just exist.

Women can be oversexualised, or not sexy enough. Men are sexualising them too much, or not enough.

Basically, what I'm trying to say, is that people suck.

People suck a lot.

And judging people for no reason?

That makes it worse.

Choose love.

Harry Styles. Yeah, he's done some things. The 'people like me' comment wasn't said right. He's dated a few girls, good for him. He potentially queerbates, but what if he doesn't? Whatever, I'm not getting into that right now.

But do you know one of the main messages Harry spreads?

Treat People With Kindness.

Not 'some people'. Not 'a certain group'.

People.

Harry has said in so many different ways, that no matter who you are, who you love, what you look like, you are deserving of love and kindness.

At the end of the day, kindness is all we have. A helping hand to someone in need.

Kindness costs nothing.

#kindness #celebrity culture

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ihopeineverloseyou19 · 2 years

Text

Unrequited

Words: 5.6k

“What a horrible thing it is to look into your mother's eyes and see the love for you vanish. I’m sorry you had to raise a kid you didn’t want. I love you.” the cradle, berthe morisot

Read it on Ao3

You can let it go

You can throw a party full of everyone you know

The security the moon bought her was something Emily deeply missed about the summer's she spent with her grandfather. Him, so different to his own daughter who only had alway the same thing in mind. Politics. He was the one who showed her how to look closely at the sky, searching for stars. That's why Emily learned to take on the company of nature brought, with each night that she spent alone in her larger, oversized mansion.

She felt alone, the bunch of bodyguards always attentive in that house never made her feel any safer, nor comfortable. She had ached to be held for so many years, that when Jennifer Jareau, her new colleague at the BAU had hugged her tightly she almost broke down crying. JJ didn’t even know her, but Emily learned the hard way that those hugs would be the only constant thing she would have wherever she was in reach of the media liaison.

Emily had tried in her lifetime to be so many different people, so many hobbies, languages and extra curricular activities, all of them chosen carefully, comparing them to her mother's interest, for when they had to be inside of a room, alone together. It was not like her mother cared about her studies. She didn't. But Emily talked about them either way, never missing the little changes in her mother's posture when she reacted to something she disliked. Emily found the path to make her mother care. She destroyed herself, for nothing.

She thought then, that if she wanted to be loved so much, she had to learn to be everything her mother detested. She did it. Emily managed to get under her mother's skin and it worked, the ambassador had come to realize that her daughter, once little familiar, so polite was turning out to be like her late husband. Someone who didn't want to make her happy. Elizabeth had tried to fix her daughter, she had really tried, pointing everything she was displeased for. It didn’t work, so she took more trips to Europe, the necessary measures to leave her daughter alone, apart, something she didn’t see, didn’t happen. She left one night and never came back.

The inability to close her eyes was still there. Emily was not a very good sleeper. Not even when she spent so many nights parting in some unfamiliar kid backyard. No matter how tired she came from that, her body was not ready to rest. Emily had been drained of that lifestyle, the tiredness she felt deep in her home didn't make it for her brain to shut off and sleep. Something her therapist had recommended to her was actually to lay still in bed. Not thinking about not actually sleeping, but resting her muscles and her mind instead. There was something that didn’t let her sleep, after all these years Emily thinks that she had found the answer.

Being lonely was not a problem. It was never a problem, she was used to it. Tonight, it actually mattered, she could not really pinpoint why? Why did she need her mother so intensely? It could not be because of the case. They got kidnappings of children so often that she barely shed a tear when the parents and kids were reunited. It was something more. Something she didn't know where to start looking out for. But still here she was, ringing into her mothers house, talking to the security guards she has known since she was a kid. Moving her car forward to her mothers new house.

Elizabeth Prentiss had never stayed in the same house for too long. Emily’s last bedroom, the last room she had before leaving to the university had been sold out with the house she spent part of her childhood in. Emily was not someone who had sentimental value for things she once lost, for objects that didn't really mean anything to her. She never cried when she came back from the university to her old home and saw another family playing happily in her front yard. It was something she never really could do, she really didn’t understand at that moment how not having done something could make her so sad.

Emily was face to face with the large front door that separates her from her mother, funnily enough, the length of the door might as well be like something that had divide them into two, Emily had tried so hard to climb it, since she was little she had tried and when she thought she was close enough to get to know her, to understand her, something shifted and brought her down, making her bruises that would stay there, not healing, they could not be seen, not by other or even by her own mother. Elizabeth had never focused on her daughter enough time to see, to notice the suffering she was part of.

Her mother had never been one to open the door for anyone, she doesn’t even know why she was surprised when a maid opened it for her, directing her to where her office was located, first asking her if she had an appointment. Later then leaving her waiting, seated in an overspensive chair when she replied a polite ‘no’, her surroundings with drawings of mountains and fields, nature, something her mother detested, what was she thinking in the first place?

How can she be her mothers daughter? They never really had the same interest, never really connected. She had her mothers name as a middle name. At least Emily really thinks they didn’t not like what she did with her grandpa when she was left there in her holidays, maybe that’s why for some time she considered Paris home. Perhaps she could even move there wherever she retired from the FBI, buy his grandpa's old house and live there, solely living off what she planted. But her mother was not the one who named her, his father was.

"Miss Prentiss?" Her surname was called, not with the same emotions her team called her. Derek teasingly as he passed her the first coffee cup while she arrived at their break room, or Aaron, sternly not letting her go after an unsub unarmed. For the other she was 'Emily', for Reid who never got a costume to call her by uer surname or JJ, who loved to shorten her name and said it with so much care. Penelope who was always happy to see her, "Ambassador Prentiss is ready to see you"

Ambassador Prentiss, the woman who neglected her family, who only thought about politics and made her husband walk out on Emily when she was merely three years old. Ambassador Prentiss, a title that Emily resented so much, for not letting her have the only parent she should at least have. When her father walked out of her house, suitcase already prepared, a letter neatly flowed on their kitchen table, Emily knew. She knew that she was going to never see him again. No matter what, he promised her that he would call her and they would spend time together. She should have known. He never kept a promise.

“Emily?” Her mother's surprising tone should not have bothered her, not now that she knew the probabilities, “What are you doing here? She was standing in front of her desk, her computer opened all the way, papers spread all over her desk. Disorganized, something Emily thinks it's passed down to her.

“I was in the neighborhood” It was not a lie at all, Emily was in fact in the neighborhood, she came from Rossi’s house, who offered a glass before going to her home. Only someone like Rossi would have chosen to live close to her own mother. It was a rapid decision, something stupid, now that she ponders over it, she must have forgotten, she always does.

“Okay” Her mother’s tone hadn’t really changed towards her, she spoke as her daughter was someone she had to win over, Emily was accustomed to it, but somehow she would have wished to have a mother like Derek’s who offered her cookies the time her son was in jail by something he did not commit. Or like JJ’s mother, Sandy, who welcomed her one Christmas when she blurted the first year she was with the team that she didn’t really have any plans.

The silence between them felt heavy, there were so many things she wanted the answer to, that she really didn’t know what to say, what to talk about. Part of the reason she almost went into politics, but that the fear of becoming her mother had pushed her aside to something she had always been curious for. Something that helped her find a family she had always carved.

“Are you enjoying the BAU?” Her mother asks before she has the time to sit, that means that her visit had to be short, if there was something she knew about her mother, was how she treated her guest, who she liked, who she did not tolerate, she was not even looking at Emily as her mother typed away.

“I would not say enjoying” Emily stated, she liked her job, but for it to happen someone had to die, that was the part she did not enjoy from it. The rush she had when they were right and save another victim was enough to keep going and perfecting her skills, “We deal with some horrible things”

“I thought that was what you wanted” Her mother states as she still doesn’t look her way, her tone it’s not really what Emily was looking for in her mother, it lacked warmth, the kind of tone Penelope had.

“It is” She answered, this time she doesn't want to stay much longer, the reason she was here was completely forgotten. Her mother looks up to her and stares silently in her direction, “Then you do enjoy it”

“Enjoying it feels wrong” Emily would use other terms to describe her job she enjoyed hanging out with her team after a case, or the girls night that the job had given her. But her job, she liked her job, but something she wished people didn’t have to die for her to do.

“What would you call it?” Her mother inquired, taking off her glasses, she was tired of the conversation, which meant she was ready to finish it. To throw her out of her office at least. But she would be too impolite to say it herself, she would wait for Emily to finish, that was something she really learned across the years wherever she was forced to accompany her in her Ambassador duties.

“Why do we have to end up like this?” Emily questined, she was tired and really this was not how she planned to finish her day, in mid argument with her mother, she really should not have thought of any other ending to this. She chose to come here, to her mother's house, she knew how it would end.

“Where’s the bathroom?” Emily asks, not letting her mother respond, it would be the same phrase she always uses, one she learned to hate so much. The only thing that was constant was the times both of them were home where the arguments happened almost every time they crossed paths.

“Ronnie will help you get there” Elizabeth responds as Emily hands her the purse she came with, she wasn’t going to let her mother go away so easily, not now that she just arrived and had her full attention.

Emily splashed some water, completely ignoring the make up she applied this morning before going to the bureau. She was anxious and at this point in the day she didn’t care much about her appearance, she just wanted to have answers to the questions that kept haunting her. She wanted to make peace with the part of her childhood she knew she was never going to recover, but she needed closure for that, an answer that her mother was the only one that could give her that.

When Emily comes back she takes a seat in front of her, she needs to be as close as possible, to have her attention if she wants answers, "why did dad leave?"

"Because of you" The response was not supposed to sting so much, she barely remembered him, but she thought that between her parents he was the only one who had loved her. She was wrong.

"What?" She felt tears picking in the corner of her eyes. Her mother, or in this case the Ambassador, it was the persona she was talking about wherever they talked. The shadow of what her mother had been was long gone.

"He was tired of taking care of you" Her mother chuckled nervously, "I never wanted to be a mother" Elizabeth paused looking at her daughter, she was sure that Emily already knew that," I did it because I loved your father, until the moment he chose to walk out, leaving me with you"

Emily felt angry, angry at her mother for laying the blame on her. If she had known, she would not have felt so overwhelmed by the case they had weeks ago where an unsub was killing high powerful women, when they found the last body Emily could not help but visualize her mother or even herself laid in the cold morgue of the state they were in. To think that for a moment she had been afraid of losing her mother. The only parent that she had around. "I didn't even chose to be born"

Her mother doesn't tell her that she is sorry, Emily knows that she can't really can be "You made my life hell Emily, it tried so hard to love you, but I..I wasn't meant to be a mother"

"Are you telling me that it was my fault? Your inability to love me was my fault?" Emily chokes out, she should know better than this. She was a grown up adult. She knows how to be more composed than this.

"I'm just saying that-" the door opening forcefully stops her mother's words. Emily didn't really need to hear more, this was everything she never thought she would need to cut the ties with her. This was the last time she would ever come back here.

"Enough" JJ's stern voice cut through the air, Emily tuning around and her gaze landing on her colleague. The FBI liaison stood there, arms crossed, she seemed to be angry. Perhaps she was angry at her. She had promised to hang out with her as soon as she left Rossi’s house. She should have messaged her at least to let her know her change of plans.

"JJ" Her name turned out like a desperate sob, JJ knew partly why Emily had come inside, why she wanted to face her mother. She opened her eyes as Emily came crashing into the hug, clinging into her, JJ placed a kiss on her friend's hair. Eyes still firmly looked into the person she was enraged with.

“Let's get out of here” JJ guides her out, just like the maid explained to her, Emily’s purse already in her left hand as the other arm was cautiously over the brunette waist. Emily stopped in her tracks when her eyes scanned over the vacant parking lot, searching for her own car, but could only locate Jennifers. “Where…How did you know I was here?”

“I called Dave” JJ states as she opened the car door for her, going towards the drivers side, she turned the car into life and put the heating on, “I had a gut feeling that I would find you here when Rossi claimed that you we gone for about an hour”

“I’m sorry” Emily apologized,leaning into her friend, she knew that JJ would not start the car until she was good enough. Jennifer shakes her head, “It was not your fault, okay”. Emily nodded rapidly, how it could not be her fault?

“I did have to cancel your surprise party" JJ lightened the conversation disclosing what she had been preparing for weeks, “Seeing as the birthday girl wasn’t going to show up. I had to sent the guest home”

“I ruined my own birthday” Emily muttered, she was 35 freshly turned, “I just wanted to…I wanted for my mother to wish me a happy birthday” Emily paused sniffing back tears, “I don’t know why it hurt so much, she didn’t even remember the other ones, what did this one have that it would be special to recall?”

"My birthday has never been significant for her," Emily paused looking out to her mother's home, "I don't know, it has been irrelevant. I have been irrelevant for her"

“Buckle up” JJ stated as she started driving, she was determined to make Emily’s 35th birthday as memorable as possible, Emily needed to remember her birthday with something good. That was exactly what she was going to do. JJ was going to turn this into the best birthday Emily has ever had.

JJ’s apartment was full of balloons, presents scattered all the way to her living room. That was the first thing Emily noticed when Jennifer turned on the lights. Emily felt so overwhelmed, more so when she noticed at least ten glasses set up in the kitchen sink. Ten people. She ruined ten people's night for not showing up to her surprise party. She even ruined her own day. JJ’s hand was firmly pressed against her back, warm against the fabric of her shirt as she guided her towards the couch.

“Look at this mess” JJ muttered under her breath as she noticed how Emily gaze flickered down at the champagne glasses from her previous guest, “I’m not going to clean it up now, we can use it for tomorrow”

The remains of a party that she didn’t get to enjoy. Her own surprise birthday party, she never had one, she had thrown a lot during the years and had confided in JJ that she didn’t have one. Her best friend made it true, but at what cost, she didn't get to be in it. Instead she was getting answers.

“My mother…there must be a point in my life where she has loved me right?” Emily inquired, JJ’s gentle fingers in her hair, massaging her scalp, it calmed her, “If I had followed her footsteps maybe she would tolerate me more”

“She wouldn’t” JJ’s voice was firm, as if she believed herself, maybe she did, Emily could not focus that much, a grief that she had inside for too long, was devouring her. Mourning for a father and a mother that she never had. A family that she wished so hard to have, but that she never had.

“How can you know that?” Emily inquired turning around, completely pressing their bodies together, she needed to feel close to something, to somebody, she needed to see that she still had someone to lean into. Because JJ always let her, she let Emily bury her head in the crook of her neck, warm skin pressed against her check as she heard the liaisons heart thum thum thum, beating, alive. Emily hopes that she could somehow never lose this.

“Some mother’s aren’t meant to be mothers'' JJ's simple response makes Emily have to take a deep breath, she needs to calm herself down. It was done. She had closure with her mother. Still, she was sure that wherever it would be her turn to leave, that she would cry, like she did with her father. Like she would do for anyone she once loved.

“What a perfect day” Emily muttered, “I went to my mothers house, for her to wish me a ‘happy birthday’ and she didn’t even know” JJ’s movements stop completely, she notices that the liaison tenses for a few seconds, her heart picking the rhythm up for a little. Emily lifts her head with caution.

JJ swallows, changing her position, so she is seated in her couch, “She knows” JJ pauses as the words register in her best friend, “I called your phone before going towards your mothers house and she picked it up”

“What did she say?” Emily inquires, she knows that it would not be good. She recalls JJ’s entrance, how she entered the room, the quickness she had to keep her apart from her mother. JJ knew, she had to know that their mother daughter relationship could not be nothing more than professional, “please”

“No” JJ’s voice was soft, like it always had, “I’m not going to let you hurt yourself like that” JJ walked away from the couch. Emily felt relieved, she didn’t want to know, but part of her wanted to understand how her mother could have learned to hate her so much, “Was it my fault?”

“None of that was your fault” JJ turned off the lights as the candles, Emily’s birthday candles illuminated her way into where her best friend was seated, “You were not the issue, Em, you tried to please someone who was solely born for politics. Politicians can never be pleased, you know that”

“Now, I believe that it's still your birthday” JJ announces, placing the cake in her little coffee table in front of the couch, Emily positions herself next to her, her body pressed to hers. Without any space in between, they have always be like that, “Wish something before blowing out the candles”

“Would it be too much to ask for her love?” Emily inquires, blurting out her wish, she knew that it would be impossible, she had asked that same thing wherever she had a cake in front of her, and nothing happened, there was no magic that would make her own mother love her or even care about her daughter.

“It wouldn’t” Emily feels how JJ holds her hand, the movement so familiar for them, their fingers interviewed like most of the time are, in New years wherever they have to count back the second to welcome in a new year, they always find each other. Emily can’t really say that she didn’t even think how JJ’s lips would be on her own.

Emily blows the candles, the fire dissipating with a single puff, letting the darkness surround them, but she knows JJ, she could make her whole silhouette in the dark, she had studied her blonde colleague so many times, that if she wanted to, she could locate her lips, lock them with her own, Emily was sure that with the action she would still find nothing but love beneath.

"What did you wish for?" JJ inquired, her voice a little bit farther since now, a low light was hanging above them, the soft lamp JJ had purchased when she first moved in. Emily remembers how the two of them spent that afternoon, with glasses on wine, encircled by the instruction papers.

"I can't exactly reveal my wish can I?" Emily said as she drank from a glass of water JJ had bought her when they first came here, her gaze flickering between her colleague's lips. It was not the first time that happened. Emily was sure that it would not be the last.

JJ agreed with a nod, "I hope you like the cake I've picked for you" She had grabbed two plates, "the birthday girl usually does the first cut". Emily takes the knife and slowly gets a piece of the cake out. Like herself, she had lost so many pieces trying to become a better version for those who didn't even tolerate her, that now she feels incomplete, she doesn't even know who she is.

"It's a great cake" Emily teases, she profusely picked the side where the writing was not engraved, she liked to hold onto the message JJ had chosen for her, she places a lingering kiss on the cheek of her best friend, "thank you"

JJ breathes in, she tries to regulate her fast beating heart when she feels Emily’s lips in her skin, she should not be reacting to her touch like that. She shouldn’t be reacting to Emily like that, not today. Not after the day the brunette girl had. How can her heart be so selfish right now and lean in a little more as the kiss lingers more than ever?

“How does a mothers love feels like?” Emily mutters, her head lowered in JJ’s shoulder, a position she took upon wherever they seated together, side by side in the jet, moments before sleeping, the familiarity in everything that surrounded them was so calm, Emily thinks that they belong with each other. But perhaps she doesn’t have the energy to confess it today.

“A mother’s love is really no different from a mother’s hate” JJ responds, a chill running down her spine, she had experienced two types of childhoods, she knows, “The intensity between the words, the rage, everything is exactly as the love they hide” JJ pauses reflecting back to something her own mother told her, back when Ross was gone, “Did you ever heard the phrase, grief is all the love you could not give?”

Emily nods, she reminisces back to when her grandpa died, how she felt full of rage rather than sad, she was angry at him for leaving her so soon. For leaving her forever tied with her own mother, with nowhere else to go, but back to what she had a hard time calling ‘home’, where her mother and her resided.

Only one of her teachers had noticed her low academic declinment and forced her to go to talk with the school counselor, who cracked her open in two sessions with her. That woman had been kind and honest with her. She had explained to Emily that indeed it was normal to feel angry at him for leaving, but in the end all the anger would dissipate and the sadness would come in strongly, without her noticing. The sorrow would try to swallow her down, the memories and happy times would not have the same impact they once did. Most importantly she told her that it was okay for her to feel sad.

“Your mother” JJ takes in a deep breath, she was in no way a profiler, but she had her own share with grief and unrequited love with people from her own family, “Your mother, all she can feel right now is rage, but her feeling enraged or angry towards you is something good”

“How so?” Emily inquired, a yawn escaping lazily within her, she looked at JJ’s living room clock, it was late for them to be talking, her birthday was coming to an end and her wish was still not fulfilled

“Emotions are a complex thing” JJ states, her hair was already messy enough and no matter how much she brushed it, there was something there incapable of staying still, “That your mother feels something towards you even if it’s rage it’s a good thing” JJ drinks a little bit of water, her throat becoming dry in the process, maybe it was for the truth the words carried, or how much they hurt when her mother explained them to her when she was merely eleven years old, “A mother feeling something towards her child is better than if she feels nothing. It means that deep down she cares”

“I’m grieving for the mother that I had?” Emily was confused, she understood that her mother feeling something for her rather than not caring about her meant something, that Elizabeth still was attentive wherever she called, enough to call her back, showed her that maybe down the road there could be something there, even if it was insignificant.

“You are not grieving for the mother you have” JJ closed her eyes, she took herself a moment to get her point across, “You are grieving for the moments you wish you had between the two of you”, she noticed Emily had her eyes closed as she heard her.

“I already grieved for my childhood” Emily explained to her, “I grieved for my lack of stability and the places that I wished so hard I could have stayed when I finally got myself comfortable there. There is nothing more I can grieve from there”

"Teenage years?" JJ inquired, Emily had not let her too much inside her life, not her and no to anyone in the team. Emily had always been a guarded person, JJ had known it the first time she had hugged her, the first time they met. Her new coworker had been tense as she wrapped her arms around her. JJ did not give it too much attention, until some years later.

"Came back from my university to see that my mother had sold out the house she barely stepped a food in" Emily chuckled sadly, "I went to my car and cried my eyes out" Emily moved her position, this time looking up to JJ, who was calmly staring to her switched off TV, where they had see so many movies together, alone or with Penelope.

“And what about now? What about today?” JJ acknowledge, she knew that Emily could not bury what happened today to her so easily, she needed to have some sort of catharsis to get it out, she needed to talk

“What do you want to know?” Emily announced standing up, she was tired of being still, she needed to move if she was going to talk about the urge she had to go to her mothers house, why she stood thirty minutes in the street parked in front of her mothers house before getting the necessary courage to enter.

“Why you appeared there out of the blue” JJ wanted to underst her, she wanted so hard to get to know Emily’s reasons, deep down she knew that it was because she cared too much about her, that she was asking, instead of letting her go to her own home, but something was telling her that she needed Emily to stay. JJ needed her tonight.

“I guess that if I appeared there and comforted her so that I would have a reason” Emily admitted, she really should have seen it coming, her mother was never going to do it, she didn’t know why she ran away after work, after all her coworkers wished her a very ‘happy birthday’ towards the only person that didn’t care enough to know.

“A reason for what?” JJ inquired, Emily pacing in her living room was making her uneasy, she had never seen Emily so unsettled during the years she had known and loved her, Emily was everything to her, the last person she wished to see sad or even distressed. A person she confided nearly everything to, Emily was who she went to when she felt like the word was out of perspective for her.

“A reason for being unlovable” Emily chokes, with the words trailing out of her mouth. She spent so many years trying to ignore that feeling, the feeling that maybe she was not made to be loved. That she was not made to have stability during her life, and much less her love life. So many relationships because she was so intense and emotionless towards her partners.

“You are loved” JJ’s voice soothes her, Emily could not really believe her, how could she? After everything her mother said, how her father walked out of the house because of her, how could she be worthy of even someone's love, when her own mother didn’t even love her?

“My wish hasn’t been fulfilled” Emily announces as she sees the clock hit midnight, her birthday finished, she could leave this birthday behind, the story with her mother buried deep between her wounds. She notices how JJ walks towards her, she grabs her face, softly her fingers caressing her cheek, her lips so close to her own

“I love you” Is everything that JJ mutters as she locks her lips with Emily’s, her heart lowering, the muscles relaxing as she notices Emily pressing herself more into the kiss, into her, lips bruising against each other, as they both try to hold onto this moment, without letting go. It was everything both wished to do, and it was happening, it was finally happening, after years of unrequited love from their relatives, they found that love in one another.

Emily had lost part of herself every day she saw her mother look away from her, every minute she had to spend alone, by herself, with nobody around, the ambassador so deep in her work, her grandpa dead, she had nobody to lean into, until JJ. JJ who had changed that loath she felt to contact. JJ turned all of that into love, something she was sure she was going to cherish forever. JJ had been unknowingly a vital part of her growing up.

Emily really could not think about a better birthday than this one, her best friend or maybe something more by her side, candles already condensing into the melting cake, the remains of a party already forgotten surrounded them as JJ lead her to her bedroom, sleep came in easy to her wherever she was with someone she trusted. Jennifer made her want to take care of herself and it was something she would have to learn to do, something her mother neglected to do. But she was not alone. Emily had her and she knew that no matter what, she would never have to be alone again.

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