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spencersawkward · 3 years

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switchblade faith//spencer reid - chapter 7

summary: one month after joining the BAU, Clea is still settling in. between solving murders and getting acclimated to DC, the only comfortable thing in her life is her friendship with Dr. Spencer Reid.

relationship: Fem!OC/Spencer

word count: 4.3k

idc if i've used this gif before it's AMAZING and i love it.

masterlist

somewhat unfortunately, Halloween rolls around. between the most intense case of my career and the rest of the ones that have come in, the meaningless holiday has barely crossed my mind. it's only Penny's eager reminder to find a costume that brings it to the front of my mind. I could half-ass it and pick something stupid, but then I would feel bad. everyone else in the office is just so excited about it, I don't want to be a sour influence.

plus, we deserve to have some fun.

I decide on a simple costume and on the 31st of October, I find myself in Penelope Garcia's bathroom with a tube of cherry red lip gloss and a somewhat reluctant expression.

"oh, c'mon." her voice is muffled through the door.

"quick question," I tighten the scarlet string around my neck, looking at myself in the mirror. "how full-out did you go?"

"baby, you know I only go to the extreme." she quips. I roll my eyes playfully, then open the bathroom door, stepping into the purple hallway with what can only be feigned confidence.

it's not that I don't look pretty; I think I look good. but it's the sheer silliness of it that makes my walk a little less than proud. I stopped dressing up for Halloween before I hit twelve. and now I'm twirling (at Penelope's command) in a short dress.

"I'm not even joking, Little Red: you look hot." she says, eyeing me up and down. there's an enormous purple seashell clipped in her blonde curls, sparkles all over her skin. she looks exactly like herself-- beautiful and whimsical in every aspect.

"thanks." I blush.

"come show us!" JJ calls from the living room. Emily would be with us, but she said she had to run an errand beforehand. I glance at Penelope once and widen my eyes. why am I so nervous? I'm acting like a child.

"go on, then!" Pen practically shoves me forward and I stumble a bit in my heels before walking out of the hallway and making my grand entrance by the couch. JJ is holding an enormous bowl of popcorn, dressed like Britney Spears. her jaw drops.

"do a spin!" she squeals. I do so, and the red cape flutters around me like the petals of a blooming flower. she sets the bowl down, claps. "I love it!"

"thanks." when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror on her wall, my cheeks are rosy. my hair tumbles over my shoulders and the cut of my dress is a bit low, but the cleavage is actually kind of a good addition. red ribbon falls just to my décolletage, a slight tease.

"we should head out soon, though," JJ checks her phone. "wouldn't want Hotch to leave by the time we arrive."

"is he even coming?" I ask.

"said he would. Pen made quite the case for herself." JJ pops a kernel into her mouth and I look to the tech analyst, who has a mischievous smirk on her candy pink lips. she raises an eyebrow.

"I told him I'd bring candy corn."

"seriously?" I can't keep the surprise out of my voice. didn't realize someone that serious could be plied with the promise of candy.

"yes, now come on." Penny scoops up her purse, which is shaped like a giant pearl, and goes to her cabinet to grab the candy corn. before long, we're out the door, chattering aimlessly on our way to the office.

when we get there, I start to get nervous. although I'm not sure why, I get self-conscious about my dress and hood, about the secret black garter around my thigh. it's my personal secret, something I wore for myself.

there are a few decorations up. some people from around the office are talking, and everyone is dressed to the nines. Garcia opens the door for me and I head straight for Emily's desk, where the rest of the team is gathered. Rossi works his way through a handful of hard candies in his palm. Emily is stunning in her black cat costume.

"hey, you guys." she breaks into a grin when she sees JJ and Pen and me, the rest of the group parting to look at us. my eyes snag on Spencer, with his Frankenstein mask resting on the top of his head so he can talk normally. even Hotch is pleased to see the three of us.

"thanks, Garcia!" he cheers as she hands him the bag of candy corn.

"you know, you're lucky he left the house for that." Rossi raises his eyebrows and points at the unit chief.

"oh, we know." JJ smirks.

"you look great!" Emily gives each of us a hug. she smells like something slightly spicy and warm, a nice scent that makes me want to hold on tighter. I don't know how to explain it; Prentiss has a very calming presence to me. I always find myself hanging around her whenever I need to decompress after cases, even if it just means talking about regular life.

"you do, too!" I grab a handful of caramel corn from the bowl she offers. "it looks pretty nice in here, actually."

"don't sound so surprised. think we couldn't handle a few decorations and snacks?" Rossi questions. it's getting easier to be around him now, honestly. despite my initial hesitance about his seniority, he's never made me feel small for my lack of experience in this specific field.

"she's against the whole holiday." Garcia makes a face as she berates me. Spencer shakes his head like I'm insane.

"that's not true!" I protest. "I never said I was against it, I just don't get why people are so excited about Halloween every year."

"because it's fun." Spencer speaks up. I roll my eyes.

"I'm not convinced."

"well, I'm glad you said so, because I've actually planned a little activity for us!" Garcia is practically bursting with excitement as she says it, like she's been holding it in the whole evening. she probably has.

my stomach twists. to be honest, I had been hoping for a relaxing evening and then an early night. an "activity" sounds like it'll interrupt those plans. but she's so elated that I can't help smiling.

"what is it?" Prentiss feigns wariness.

"well," Garcia simpers in a way that makes me think we're in for an interesting night. "I took the liberty of hiding certain candies around the office last night before we went home."

"hiding them?" JJ repeats with a smirk.

"in little plastic pumpkin cases. they're absolutely adorable, like Easter egg size--"

"you're sending us on an Easter egg hunt?" Rossi looks at her disbelievingly. I let out a nonplussed noise. Penelope is ready to defend herself, however, pointing a finger at him and sounding as firm as she can manage.

"it's going to be cute, dammit. whoever gets the most candies gets a special surprise at the end."

"what's the surprise?" Emily asks.

"it wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, now would it?" Penelope replies.

there's a silence in the circle as we all try to figure out how to react. it's childish, for sure. nobody is arguing that point; but it also sounds kind of not that bad to me.

"oh come on, guys!" she addresses our lack of enthusiasm. "we've had a hard couple of weeks. let's at least try and have some fun."

JJ starts to laugh, putting her arm around the tech analyst's waist while she snuggles into her shoulder.

"if it'll make you happy, Pen."

"it will!" Garcia nods vigorously and turns to us. I catch myself breaking into a smile. there are much worse things than going on a Halloween candy hunt, especially given the usual circumstances of being in the office.

"alright!" I throw up my hands and Emily is next to concede. Spencer has been quiet this whole time, but he straightens up from his usual slouching position and tries to hide the grin spreading over his lips. Rossi and Hotch glance at each other.

"alright." the Italian shrugs.

"what do we have to do, then?" I ask.

"well, there are a bunch of pumpkins hidden all over. you'll know them when you see them." she clasps her hands together. "I'm timing you, too, so you're going to have half an hour."

"wait a second," Emily frowns. "what if some of the other people who aren't in on it find the candies first?"

there's a sound of general assent from all of us. we aren't the only employees here. Penelope doesn't seem bothered by this, however.

"then I guess you'd better move fast." she pulls out her phone and presses a button, and we disperse with a quickness that really does make me feel like a kid again. I never did Easter egg hunts as a child, but this is a welcome distraction. low stakes competition.

I start to wander around, starting at my desk. there's a pumpkin behind my computer monitor, and one in my desk drawer, although that's it for my personal workspace. my feet carry me to other place around the office, my fingers trailing over the tops of cabinets and under desks. Penelope sits in Prentiss' chair with a sucker-- a smug, luminous mermaid as she watches all of us scramble.

"you got Hotch to search for hidden candy. impressive." I pass her on my way to Anderson's desk. she hasn't hidden anything in too private a place, but maybe there's something in his paperclip dish.

"I'm a witch." she wiggles her brows.

"I thought you were a mermaid." I wink. she grabs the hem of my dress and tugs on it.

"just go find your candy, silly."

"is there anything in Hotch's office?" I nod towards the almost intimidating room. her eyes flicker around to see who might be around us. fortunately, everyone is too wrapped up in their current task to even look our way. I look like I'm just wasting time.

"you didn't hear it from me," she whispers. "but yes."

a sparkle of satisfaction burns in my chest.

"love you, Penny." I make my way towards the office. the door is shut and the actual usual inhabitant of it hasn't gone inside, so he must have overlooked the idea that Garcia would hide candy in there. I'm sure they'll be easy finds, too, since she's terrified of crossing any boundaries with him and wouldn't press her luck by touching his things.

I head over to the couch by the door and see a plastic pumpkin resting on the table next to it, nestled between the wall and the surface.

"ha!" I snatch the thing up, then keep poking around. there's another one on the bookshelf. without anywhere else to put them, I put the found objects in the hood of my cape, dropping them in before moving onto the next.

I'm under the desk when I hear the door get pushed open slightly more. my head pops up from the inconspicuous spot and there's Reid, pockets stuffed while he peers around the space.

"hey." I say. he jumps when he sees me kneeling on the floor.

"oh, hi," he frowns. "why are you on the ground?"

I grab the little orange pumpkin package that's tucked against one of the desk legs, then show him smugly. "winning."

"how many do you have?" he pretends to be curious, but I can sense an undercurrent of competitiveness. I stand and shrug. he eyes my costume to see if I have any spots that hint at a candy stash. he doesn't think to check the hood of my cape.

"that's for me to know and you to find out."

Spencer squints briefly. "are you secretly good at this?"

"am I?" I raise my eyebrows. "don't try to profile me, Reid."

"I'm not profiling you!" he lets out one of those rare laughs, the musical sound that lives in his throat. I wish he would laugh more; there's something kind of cute about his face when he does.

"mhmm." I say doubtfully and come to stand in front of him. "let's see it, then."

"see what?"

"what you have so far." I say the words and he immediately places his hands over his pockets.

"no way! you didn't show me yours." he protests quickly. I wrinkle my nose.

"oh come on, Reid." I roll my eyes. "if you show me yours, I'll show you where I keep mine."

he watches me skeptically again. "why?"

"because I think we could be allies."

there's a silence after the suggestion. truthfully, the idea just popped into my head. we could win pretty easily, though, if we coordinate.

"really?" the corners of his lips flicker upwards. he's unsure whether or not he should give in.

"are you kidding? with your smartness and my generally conniving nature, we could really do some damage." I tease. he giggles.

"I've never heard someone describe themselves as conniving."

"call it self-awareness," I smirk. "are you in or not?"

he glances behind him at the bullpen, our friends still searching for the pumpkin packages while Garcia twists a pen between her fingers. when she wants to, she can look intimidating. I raise an eyebrow and wait for Spencer's response. his face turns to mine. those irises are such a pretty shade.

"okay."

"alright, boy genius!" I cheer, then reach up to undo my cape. he looks slightly panicked for a second as I undo the red ribbon, but relaxes when I grab the hood and show him the stash of pumpkins. "see?"

it’s crammed with orange packages.

“that's pretty smart." he admits with an impressed smile.

"right?" I agree. "come on, then. I think I've practically swept this place clean."

he follows me out the door in our search.

...

by the time the thirty minutes are up, Spencer and I have made shocking progress in consolidating our supply. we've decided that if we beat everyone, we'll share the surprise. if it's something we can't split, we'll rock-paper-scissors for victory (two out of three, of course). but I'm not too concerned about it.

when we wander over to Penelope's spot at the desk, we're practically strutting.

"someone's confident." she notes. I take my cape off again and slam the thing down on the surface. Spencer has an amused look on his face.

we ended up spending a lot of time arguing about the best spots to hide candy, though I mostly let him take the lead— in terms of hiding places, he's been here longer and knows more than I do. and, unrelated, but he's pretty funny when he's not busy thinking about a case. his references are a little nerdy, but I kind of enjoy listening to the explanations.

"we kicked ass." I cross my arms over my chest and Spencer nods. everyone around us is suspicious; JJ points between us.

"did you two team up?"

"maybe." I glance at Spencer, who's already looking at me to gauge my reaction to the question.

"that's cheating!" JJ laughs. Spencer shakes his head.

"actually, Garcia never laid out any formal rules for the game."

"mhmm!" I nod in agreement, grateful to have him there with his factual authority. JJ sighs, but nobody can stay mad at Spencer. we share a grin before Emily eyes the separate piles on the desk.

Garcia went out of her way to hide a lot of treats. that said, it's clear that the combined amount from Reid and me beats out everyone else's. we high five once she announces us the official winners.

"what's our prize?" Spencer asks as everyone lightheartedly boo's our victory.

"a gift card to that new fried chicken place that we ordered from a while ago." Garcia presents a shiny plastic card to me. it's a great treat, honestly, becuase I'm hungry and takeout is one of my favorite things in the world.

the team congratulates us on our win and things start to wind down. Hotch makes an excuse to get home and Rossi muses about a pack of cigars that await him. I feel the energy in the office start to dissipate, but now I feel like I'm on a bit of a victory high. I got all dressed up and now everyone wants to leave? disappointing.

as Prentiss and JJ shrug on their coats, I run my fingertip over the edge of the gift card. Spencer is packing some extra books into his bag. he told me to keep the gift card and that it wasn't a big deal, but I don't feel right not sharing. especially not when we didn’t rock-paper-scissors for it.

"Reid." I walk over to his spot, lean against the desk. he glances up in surprise.

"yeah?"

"do you wanna share this with me?" I wave the reward in the air. his brows draw together for a fraction of a second. he seems confused.

"right now?"

"sure, why not?" I gesture to the bullpen, which is emptying quickly. "it's not even that late."

he checks his watch as if to confirm my assertion, then stuffs his slim wrists into his pockets and stares at me for a second. I start to get the sense he’s going to say no, and something in me sinks. his tongue darts out over his bottom lip. he's got his mouth open a lot. "y-yeah, that sounds fun."

I nod at the good news. "okay, cool. I'm too lazy to actually drive there, so I'll just order delivery?"

"okay." he gives me a small smile while I pull out my phone to call the place. I'm a little bit glad that it's just us.

...

"try it." I pop the plastic cover off the sauce cup before setting it next to him.

"that looks gross." Spencer shakes his head quickly through a mouthful of food. my jaw drops and I snatch the sauce right back, dipping the chicken into it and taking a hefty bite.

"it's literally the perfect combination of salty and smooth." I protest. Reid looks dubious, however, and leans his head back against the side of the desk. we started the evening in the swivel chairs, but we're both fidgety at heart and now we're on the floor.

he takes a swig of his drink. "I never knew lemonade could taste so good."

"same." I laugh. "can I have your sauce thing, then?"

he responds by dismissively pushing the thing over to me. we're sitting side-by-side, and somehow I think that's easier for him. we don't have to look each other in the eyes as we talk.

"I'm proud of us." I announce. Spencer snorts.

"why?"

"we found so much candy! which we can now eat for dessert." I reach up to grab my cape off my desk, and the hood thuds to the ground.

"we're a good team." he says it lightheartedly. Spencer is right, though; we work really well together on cases. it makes sense that it would translate into candy hunts. he's way smarter than I am, but it functions well.

"we should do the Amazing Race."

"I don't think either of us would like that." he takes a bite of his fry and I finish up the last of my chicken.

"you wanna hear a secret?" my head turns to his.

"what?" he reciprocates. his features appear especially delicate right now, almost suspended. I can see a darkness in his lids that contradicts the youth of his mien. I'm so close, I could kiss his nose if I wanted to. I don't, but I could.

"aside from the team aspect, I don't really know what the Amazing Race is." I giggle. Spencer breaks into a laugh and turns away again, filling the office with the sound. I blush.

"then why did you bring it up?" his voice gets slightly high-pitched when he tries to speak through it.

"I don't know, I feel like people say that all the time."

"nobody has ever asked me to be in the Amazing Race with them." Spencer is still giggling when he looks over at me. I bite my lip before asking the thing that plagues me.

"so, what is it?"

"the Amazing Race?"

"no, Newton's Laws." I deadpan. "yes, the Amazing Race."

he throws his hands up and I chuckle. he straightens.

"it's a reality game show where they race to travel the world."

"that's it? no stats for me, genius boy?" I gesture for him to elaborate. Spencer shrugs.

"I don't really care about reality shows."

"you don't--" I blink exaggeratedly, as if the fact is shocking. "you don't care about reality shows?"

"we get enough reality here as it is."

"oh, Spence...." I sigh. "there are few things faker than reality tv."

"why do you like them?" he's genuinely curious. I see the glimmer of the Work Spencer with which I've become familiar. always trying to get under the surface, digging for answers even when they don't seem immediately relevant.

"I like to turn my brain off sometimes, you know?" I close the lid of my food and take a drink of my lemonade while I wait for him to respond. although he doesn't look at me as he nods, I can tell he understands what I mean. if anything, he knows the feeling better than I do.

"yeah, I get that."

"everyone just acts really stupid and they care way too much about things that usually, like, don't even matter. it's sort of comforting in a weird, depressing, god-I'm-glad-that's-not-me way."

"that's interesting," he peeks over at me for just a second. "you know, there's actually been studies done that show people with higher annual incomes suffer from higher levels of depression and anxiety."

"I believe it." I make a noncommittal sound and reach into the hood of my cape to grab a piece of candy. with the movement, I shift and the hem of my dress lifts enough to expose the garter on my thigh, and the object tucked within it. Reid's eyes pass briefly over me, but he does a double-take when he sees the thing.

"is that--?" he points at my leg. I hitch up the garment a little so I can remove the knife that's been pressed to my thigh the whole evening.

"a weapon? yeah, technically." I chuckle. Spencer's jaw drops in disbelief. even as I hold it in my hands, he seems afraid to touch it.

it's not really a weapon. I got it from one of my friends as a gift a while ago, a lovely little resin dagger that's filled with red flower petals and gold flakes. it glints under the office lights.

"you're really not supposed to have that in here." he gulps, glances up at the corners of the room, where I'm sure security cameras are mounted. I hand it to him, pressing the blade into his palm.

"then stop looking at all the cameras so suspiciously." I scoff. he turns a bit to look at the thing, tilts the edges under the glow to examine it with a strange expression. his long, elegant fingers move over the handle.

"where did you get this?"

"it was a present. it's not dangerous." I shrug. the edges are pretty dull; it's more of a decorative piece. I would equate its actual risk level to that of a particularly pointy pen.

"why did you bring it?" he hands it to me gingerly, our hands touching briefly before I slide it back into the garter on my thigh. his eyes follow my movements, and something in my stomach flips unexpectedly.

"I collect them."

"knives?" he doesn't seem taken aback, only interested, judging by the way he frowns quizzically. I nod and face him.

"yeah. I started as a kid, but I have a whole variety of them-- antique, new, ornate, plain-- I love 'em all." I explain enthusiastically. Spencer opens his mouth and I realize that he must have a million questions. he always has a million questions.

"why knives?"

I pull my mouth to the side of my face. it's not like there's some deep, dark reason behind my predilection for collecting sharp objects. and I’ve tried to answer that question myself, always coming up empty. some things people just... like. "I don't know."

like I've put a damper over the conversation.

"o-oh." Spencer's eyes drop into his lap, where he's been fidgeting with his hands for the past couple minutes. he thinks I'm withholding, that he's crossed some sort of line. my heart sinks.

"I'm serious, Reid-- I don't know." I laugh it off. "I just think they're cool the same way that you think math is cool."

"math is cool." he looks up for a second to smile. I nudge his shoulder with mine. his slight frame means he almost tips over and I laugh.

"hard disagree, but sure."

Spencer stretches his legs out before him, and I'm reminded of how tall he is. he's prone to slouching, so it's easy to forget that his body is actually pretty lengthy. when he taps his Converse together absently, I notice the different colors of his socks. one has watermelon slices and the other has the Road Runner on them.

"I like your mask, by the way." I compliment.

"oh, you mean this?" he tugs the thing down over his face. it's gruesome, really, tinged green with baggy skin below the eye holes. I make a disgusted face and push his shoulder away from me.

"ew!"

"something wrong?" he uses a funny monster voice when he says it, wiggling his fingers playfully. I cackle. he’s never done that.

"god, that thing is ugly."

Spencer removes the mask again, a ghost of a grin on his face. for all of his shyness, he's enjoying himself right now.

we sit there in silence for a bit, cracking open the plastic pumpkin packages that Garcia has stuffed with all sorts of candy. we trade jelly beans like currency, blue raspberry for orange and anything remotely citrus-flavored that he loves. he doesn't mind taking them from my open palm, which fills me with a strangely warm feeling.

I realize that there's more to Spencer's anxiety than germs, a thin layer of something that he lays between each person and himself. we don't talk about weighty subjects; we aren't friends like that-- not yet, anyway. but I'm glad that he feels alright with this kind of proximity.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #best friends to lovers #fanfic

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Chase the Shadows Away (Taywhora) - Juno

Summary: It’s April 2020, the UK is in lockdown, and Tayce gets a hand-delivered letter from her neighbour Aurora which may change her life.

A/N: So this is set during lockdown and does mention covid, so please bear this in mind when reading if this will be a worry, but otherwise I hope you enjoy. CWs in place for alcohol, mental health mentions, and non-adherence to lockdown rules at one point.

Otherwise it’s quite fluffy with some h/c. I hope you enjoy.

The first letter Tayce got was in early April.

She hadn’t had much post since the whole country had been locked down, no one allowed to move outside their front doors for more than once a day for threat of fines and penalties and even getting sick. Most of the letters she was getting this week had been birthday cards for her absent housemate. She’d put the various brightly-coloured cards and Amazon boxes in a pile outside Viv’s bedroom door, and gave the pile the middle finger every time she walked past it.

But today there was a plain, white envelope, with “Hi” written on it in glittery red pen, and when Tayce opened it, she found a piece of notebook paper that had been folded at least four times, and Tayce nearly threw it across the room with the effort it was taking to open.

This had better be worth it.

When she got it unfolded, she read the three lines in the same glitter pen, then again, and once more just in case.

‘Hi, I’m Aurora. I’m on my own in my flat 7D because my housemate moved home because of lockdown, and you seem to be alone too. Want to write to each other? X’

And Tayce couldn’t hold back the rush of emotion, as much as she tried - but she was alone, and she took comfort knowing only these four walls would see tears stream down her face.

——

Tayce was on her own in the flat.

In the day time she opened her work laptop, thanking god she was allowed to work from home; throwing a hoodie over her pyjama top just in time for the 9am meeting where her boss grinned at everyone and told them all to keep swimming and chin up and whatever other self-indulgent bullshit she had read in her How To Motivate Your Teammanual in the chapter about Managing Pandemics.

Tayce was still surprised at how much bullshit her workmates seemed to swallow; all of them with the same broad smiles and straightened hair and shaved chins and eyeliner, for fuck’s sake - but Tayce copied them, knowing that not painting her own smile and her own eyebrows on was damning herself for the inevitable call and the simpering It’s Good To Talk conversation, followed by u k hun xx to be flashing repeatedly in the work WhatsApp group from all the team.

In the evenings, the only noise was the clink of the glass bottle against the wine glass. One glass was enough to make her a little sleepy, two was enough to make her dance, and three was enough to make her post something cryptic on her insta story and see if anyone DMed her.

Sometimes they did.

Joe liked to crack a few morbid jokes about how it was the apocalypse and we were all going to be dead by 2021, which didn’t help Tayce in the slightest. Ginny would message “You alright, bab?” at three in the morning, but never reply to any other message. Tia would send Tayce a picture of the banana bread she’d baked as if that would cheer Tayce up.

And Cherry sent her a message one time, telling her to look after her mental health, and then Tayce felt bad because Cherry worked for the NHS and only seemed to work and sleep right now, her insta photos showing her looking more and more gaunt, with #ClapForHeroes and #ProtectTheNHS appearing at the bottom of all her posts.

Nothing curbed the gaping black hole in Tayce’s chest, sucking everything that was good from her body and leaving her a shell.

Until the letter arrived.

——

Two days after she’d posted her own letter back to 7D, another letter arrived, in the same glittery red pen, this time addressed to her, with Tayce written on the front of the envelope this time.

‘Hi Tayce (sp?) nice to meet you, don’t worry I don’t know what to say either! Where in Wales are you from? I’m from Nottingham but I came to London for uni and didn’t leave! Are you still working rn? I got furloughed which is a bit shit. And my housemate is staying with her boyfriend so she can’t move back. Have you been clapping for the NHS? Someone on my floor was banging a pan or something!! Hope your ok? WB Aurora xx’

“I’m making a new friend,” Tayce had said to her mum on the phone later that night.

“In lockdown?”

“She’s delivering me letters.”

“How?”

“By hand, mum.” Tayce forced a laugh. “You know. Through the letterbox like a normal letter.”

“I hope you’re washing your hands before and after you open them, are you?”

“Yeah, of course,” Tayce grimaced as she said it.

“Good. Stay safe. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

One of these days, Tayce thought as she disconnected the call, she might be able to say it without her voice breaking.

——

By mid-April, a full month since lockdown had started and two weeks after the first letters between them, Aurora had given Tayce her instagram handle, and Tayce had given hers in return. Tayce found herself spending all of her Good Friday skimming down the page on moreauroramore, looking through all of her new pen pal’s photos and trying desperately not to look like an idiot by accidentally double-tapping any that were obviously over a year old.

Tayce had pictured Aurora in her mind as being over-excitable, short, with dark hair and lots of dusty pinks and baby blues and other pastel colours as her aesthetic, maybe with pot plants and cat pictures and cutesy little slogans surrounded by hearts. Instead she’d found a smolderingly attractive woman with a ridiculously versatile and sophisticated sense of fashion; one photo in a rococo-inspired summer dress, and the next in a cerulean blazer, matching trousers, and stilettos. Her hair was platinum-blonde, but it was hard to tell her eye colour as she seemed to own a never-ending plethora of colour contacts; and the eyebrow ring in the early pictures was replaced by a silver septum ring in later ones.

Her own insta looked quite plain in comparison, Tayce thought to herself. The landscapes she liked to post were interesting to her but probably not to the magnificent person on Aurora’s insta. The last picture Tayce had taken was of herself with her brother and niece in red rugby shirts just before the Six Nations was on; the last selfie before the last time she’d gone home which was … only February, she realised.

February felt like years ago.

When Tayce had awoken the next morning, she was greeted by the doorbell, and an Amazon driver sprinting away the moment she opened the door. A letter was on the doormat, in the familiar red glittery pen, and a single chocolate Easter egg.

‘Happy Easter Tayce. Don’t know if you celebrate but lol thought you would like some chocolate anyway! Don’t eat it all at once. Aurora xx’

It made Tayce’s gut wrench with guilt that she hadn’t thought to get Aurora one.

But it made Tayce even more pained, once she had clicked onto her instagram, to see that moreauroramore had liked all thirteen of the pictures she’d posted this year.

——

The zoom call at the end of April with the others from her uni group, saw not just Cherry missing, but also Ellie and Veronica.

“Ellie’s moving this week,” Lawrence nodded at the screen, “but that was all she’d tell me. She didn’t say where. Or if she’s staying in Dundee or anything. I just know she’s still trying to get her internet set up and I think she’s a bit stuck.”

“What about Vee?” Ginny asked in a low voice.

They all recognised the somber tone. They’d all taken it up. A change in their voices that all of them recognised in a kind of collective telepathic awareness. A hush in the calls, as if someone were dying, or had just died. Whenever anyone was missing, it was always the same worry circling all of their minds: what if it’s covid what if it’s covid what if it’s -

Tia was shaking her head. “It’s not covid,” she said, reading the minds of everyone through the internet, but her voice was still solemn as she continued. “I spoke to her mum. She’s -“

“Say depressed, Tia, it’s fine.” Bimini spoke gently, but not all of them were as open as Bimini was. Especially when it came to Veronica, who was a brick wall when it came to showing what she was feeling.

“She’s - not in a good place.”

“Say mental health,” Bimini said, shaking their head. “It’s okay to not be okay.”

“I don’t think that’s gonna make her feel any better, Bim.” Tia rolled her eyes.

“We’re all feeling this,” Pip nodded. “We all need to talk to each other.”

“Veronica won’t. Not yet. We just need to be there for her when she does. Anyway, who’s done anything interesting? Anyone else been trying banana bread? Everyone managed to find bogroll from somewhere now? No one is having the same problem that Joe had when she -“

“I don’t think we need to go any further with that one, love,” Joe muttered.

“I’ve made a pen friend.”

Everyone sat in stunned silence at Tayce’s sentence, mouths open like fish at feeding time.

“A pen friend? What is this, 1986?”

“Shut up, Ginny. I think that’s kind of cute, actually,” Tia mused, tilting her head to one side.

Tayce nodded. “Something a bit different. She lives in my block of flats. Two floors up from me. Been nice, to talk to someone, ever since Viv buggered off to her boyfriend’s house. Seriously, as soon as Boris announced lockdown she was jumping in her car and off to Liverpool.”

“You said she was a bit flaky,” Tia said sympathetically. “What’s your new pen pal’s name?”

“Aurora.”

“A-what?” Ginny raised their eyebrows. “Can we just call her Rory?”

“No.”

“We should get her on a call with us when Veronica’s back. Ronni and Rory, sounds like Ant and Dec will have some stiff competition when they get wind of that.”

“Ginny -“ Tia began, but Tayce was trying to hold back a chuckle.

——

‘Someone is talking about a street party on the 8th of May. Are you gonna go? I was gonna stay indoors but if you’re gonna go outside i will too xx’

Tayce knew she shouldn’t be thinking of meeting strangers outside her flat while the pandemic was ongoing, but she hadn’t seen a familiar human since March other than on a zoom call screen.

‘Hi Aurora, yeah i will go outside for a little bit. Look forward to meeting you properly instead of over letters! Tayce’

And Tayce finally stopped hesitating, adding two kisses on the end for the first time.

The weather was meant to be lush for a May bank holiday, as Tayce knew because her colleagues wouldn’t shut up about it. Almost eight weeks of lockdown were beginning to show the cracks in all their faces - no more eyeliner, and even Linda in Accounts had stopped posting boomerang videos of her kids doing Joe Wicks workouts while she waved her arms behind them.

So Tayce was over the moon when Friday rolled around and she could slam the Dismiss button on her phone alarm, turn over and sleep in until noon. Once she woke up though, she sat up with a jolt in her bed and realised she’d have to get ready; somehow it was important that she looked right today.

It was a power play, she knew it. An armour. But there was just something about clothes that made her mood turn in an instant. Her favourite leather jacket was probably a bit too heavy for the warm sunshine - warm sunshine? In May? - so she opted for the black denim instead and a skirt that hugged her slender figure, leaving her hair loose and wishing she’d gone for a trim before the lockdown. Maybe she should take her scissors to it?

She held the only scissors she had to hand - a pair of craft scissors - and wondered what her hairdresser mum would say if she knew that her daughter had taken non-styling scissors to the 30-inches of hair that she had.

No - better not. Her mum could give her a go over once the lockdown period had ended.

Someone was playing tunes on a speaker already when Tayce came down the stairs, dragging the garden chair Viv had left behind and brushing the digestive crumbs off it. One of the neighbours she recognised from her floor handed her an ice-cold can of Fosters which she sipped, not really enjoying the taste but relishing the freedom of it all. She knew to keep two metres from everyone, and she knew Cherry would absolutely murder her if she disobeyed that rule.

As soon as Aurora came into view from the block of flats, Tayce knew that keeping to the two metre rule would prove a little harder than she had first thought.

Aurora’s insta pictures showed a fashion model trapped in a little box on a screen, striving to get out - but in the flesh, she looked as if she had just rolled out of the living room after a Tiger King marathon. The grey jogging bottoms paired with the crop top and zip-up hoodie were probably too warm for today - 23 degrees, the radio kept repeating - but she made them look so effortless and stylish that Tayce suddenly wanted to buy some. Her platinum hair was piled in a messy bun, dark brown roots showing but the lackadaisical nature made it seem like Aurora meant it that way.

On her insta page, Aurora was way out of Tayce’s league; but here in life, she seemed a lot more accessible, a lot calmer, a lot more real.

Maybe it’s armour for her too. All this perfection in the photos. God. Why did I wear this?

She dropped her own deck chair down a reasonable distance from Tayce, taking another can of Fosters from the same neighbour and cracking it open. She took a swig, wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, and waved.

“Hi, Tayce. Here we are, then!”

“Yeah,” was the only thing Tayce could think of in response. Really cool. Very clever.

But Aurora was talking animatedly about how much she’d missed the sun, as she pulled a pair of sunglasses from her pocket and leaned back against the deck chair, claiming “Tesco are having them on sale - two for £12, so I got two - what else am I gonna do on furlough other than sunbathe!”

And the more the Fosters flowed - their neighbour’s 24-pack almost completely gone before 5pm, he seemingly wanting to give a can to the whole block - the more Aurora opened up her life history to Tayce.

How much she wished she was still in Worksop and could go on the long walks into the forest. How she’d give anything to hug her mum, a care-worker, and how she FaceTimed her shielding grandad every Sunday at 6.30 just after he finished his tea.

But most of all, how lonely it was every single night being alone in a flat in a huge city. Aurora dabbed her watery eyes with her thumbs as she described how much she loved everything that London had to offer when it was full of people, not dead to the world like it was now - and in this hollow place that lockdown was, she’d discovered that a city - any city, however exciting - was just a built-up area if you had no one to share it with.

Tayce hadn’t expected to cry. She’d cried maybe once or twice this whole time in lockdown, still too numb to have taken everything in that was happening. But the moment she’d opened her mouth, suddenly the Fosters had started talking for her too, and she was spilling out her worries onto the pavement below them as Aurora rubbed her back.

How her mum was furloughed from the hairdresser and her dad was always out in the lorry up and down the country. Her brother and sister-in-law, and her niece, were all still fine in Newport, but Tayce had missed her niece’s birthday, having to settle for blowing her a kiss down FaceTime and promising her through gritted teeth and cold fear that she’d give her the biggest cwtch ever as soon as this was over.

But now Tayce was in tears again, this time on Aurora’s shoulder, releasing her sorrows onto this woman who she had only exchanged written words with; now seeing her true soul laid bare in emotions that just refused to stop once she started. Aurora’s gentle hands ghosted through her hair, but then gripped Tayce tightly to her chest, planting a long, tender kiss on her hairline.

How had this happened? How had social distancing become this? Two people, thinking they were islands, clinging to one another for dear life?

Tayce held her for too long.

Aurora’s hands froze as she realised what she had done at the same moment Tayce had.

Cherry is gonna kill me.

Aurora walked with Tayce back to her flat as the sun was setting. It was nine in the evening, the heat finally starting to break, and both of them were aching and tired, spent from their tears. Aurora gave Tayce’s hand a gentle squeeze but said nothing else, her eyes red underneath her sunglasses, and Tayce had felt herself harden once again, turning the key in the door and closing the outside world back to where it should be.

——

After two weeks had passed, both of them not developing any symptoms after their contact, Tayce had an idea.

She put the letter through the letterbox in 7D at midday when she broke for lunch, and had a reply by half past one, a new record for Aurora.

‘Tayce, I’d love to form a support bubble with you. I thought you would have one already thats why i didn’t ask! Want to put on a film tonight and just chill? Bubble bud? Aurora xx’

So Tayce saw inside Aurora’s flat for the first time that same evening. After work, she practically sprinted up the stairs, thankful to get away from more of u k hun xx and her still-simpering colleagues.

It was very clean, as if it had only just been cleaned that day - freshly-washed surfaces, hoovered carpets, a sparkling bathroom - and Tayce marvelled at how tidy and orderly things were, a stark contrast from her own living space which had evolved into a nest of mess by now. Aurora’s living room and kitchen space were one area, with a mismatched sofa and chair facing the tv screen, hooking up a PS4 - Tayce hadn’t counted Aurora as a Dishonoured player either. The wall opposite the window was filled with small pictures of past fashion models - Kate Moss, Agyness Deyn, Cara Delevigne - all with matte black frames which had obviously been painted in lockdown, as one was on the coffee table drying over a copy of Hello magazine.

“My housemate’s not coming back, I can see it happening now,” Aurora shrugged, “so why not make the house the way I like it while I look for someone else to live with?”

Aurora poured Tayce a huge glass of wine, and that was followed by another; while she topped up her own glass liberally and kept shifting on the sofa as if trying to get comfortable. Tayce, for her part, took the chair instead, while Aurora tapped on the PlayStation controller to try to get Netflix up. The more she drank, the more cumbersome the controller seemed to become in her hands, until Tayce leaned over and took it away from her, Aurora’s fingers lingering a little too long on it before relinquishing.

When Aurora got up, meaning to pour them both a fourth glass of wine, she slipped on something and tumbled into Tayce’s lap in the chair, tittering something that sounded like “god I’m clumsy” through the giggles that came from her, unable to stop. Tayce slapped her on the back as she started coughing, but as that died down, Aurora straightened up, picking up Tayce’s hand in hers and drawing her up and away to join her on the sofa.

Lockdown had been so fucking lonely.

Aurora’s hand in hers was all Tayce needed to dissolve every wall she was still rebuilding from May Bank Holiday.

Aurora’s eyes were on her, she knew; through her peripheral vision as she tried desperately to cling to her focus on whatever episode of Tiger King this was.

When Tayce finally met her gaze, she averted it, turning her face to the window opposite them. Almost … playfully.

So Tayce looked back at the TV screen, but Aurora’s hand squeezed at hers, thumb in her palm pressing right in the centre, the pressure somehow travelling all the way to her gut. Tayce turned back to her, and this time Aurora did not look away.

“God, you’re gorgeous.”

Aurora looked at her through her eyelashes, lips parted in a smirk, curiously searching Tayce with her gaze as if wondering what her next move would be.

Tayce blinked incredulously. “Me? Like this? What do you mean, I’m gorgeous? Have you seen yourself?”

“And that accent, oh my days -“

“Go to Newport, we all sound like this.”

But the wine was hitting hard now and oh god lockdown is so fucking lonely and Tayce’s feet on the floor suddenly felt unsteady and Aurora was so fucking close to her on the sofa -

——

Once the hangover was gone, the memory of rest of the night felt like a dream, or maybe a nightmare. Tayce wasn’t entirely sure when she’d gone back to her flat, but she had, long before night had fully fallen and long after she was sure the burgeoning friendship she was finally making with someone lay in tatters two floors up from her.

The wine had washed away the strength she’d had, leaving her raw and vulnerable, and all the affection that had been growing since Aurora had first held her bubbled and burst into life. And Aurora must have felt the same magnetic pull, drawing them together across the sofa, nail marks still present in Tayce’s back that she could see in the mirror, a bruise forming on Tayce’s collarbone as Aurora had dipped a little lower.

It had been Tayce who had halted it - not because she hadn’t wanted to, but because she couldn’t decipher how much of this was affection and how much of this was just two lonely people, starved of company, starved of normality, seeking and clinging to it in any form.

And now it was the following day, and Tayce still didn’t know.

The group call at the end of the day was interesting. She stretched over the back of the sofa in her living room to grab her water, and that must have been enough to flash a sliver of skin.

“What’s that?” Lawrence asked loudly, prompting everyone else to go quiet. “Tayce? What’s that on your chest, hmm?”

“I didn’t see anything.”

“You’re not wearing your glasses, Ginny, you can’t see shit. What’s that on your chest? Why d’you have a bruise there?”

“Hi!” Ellie’s voice as she joined the call unexpectedly saved Tayce any further embarrassment; everyone shrieked when she came on, having missed the last two zoom calls following her move. “Thank God my internet is working now, I’ve missed all your faces!”

Tayce silently thanked Ellie’s timing and contentedly listened to the rest of them as they chatted about everything and nothing that they’d all missed. All of them were there; even Cherry showed up about twenty minutes in to wave at them and blow them kisses, her face even more pallid than before; before ducking back out to go to bed.

Only Veronica was still missing.

“She’s been messaging me,” Tia explained, “and she said she’s feeling a bit better, but since she got furloughed, she’s feeling like there’s no point getting out of bed or getting ready because there’s nowhere to go.”

“Send her some love,” Tayce said, but Tia snorted.

“You send her it! She’s gonna feel better if she knows we all miss her.”

It was true though, Tayce realised after they all disconnected. They all seemed to be drifting apart, no more energy to continue with these online gatherings, even though there were so many virtual meetup groups and apps that there almost seemed to be no excuse now.

She looked back through her phone messages. She hadn’t messaged Veronica since early April, taking her silence as a sign that she wanted to be left alone; but what if it wasn’t? Veronica was a closed fist, everyone knew that. And Tayce’s brother? Again, early April, and a quick call the week after for her niece’s birthday.

Lockdown, and self-isolation, seemed to be one and the same.

So Tayce spent the rest of the afternoon sending messages to everyone she had neglected since then. Maybe they would reply, and maybe they wouldn’t - but there was no harm in reaching out, no negative consequences.

By the end of the day, she was fielding messages back and forth from everyone she thought she’d lost through lockdown, the grey cloud over her head starting to lift, the fuzzy feeling disappearing and clarity settling in. She felt light, lighter than she had in weeks; and warm as the summery days they were getting in this late-May spring.

Towards the end of the day, she got a message back from Veronica at last.

Veronica: I’m doing ok. I got up and went for a walk today just to the park and back. It’s really nice although my hay fever sucks. Thanks for checking in on me i appreciate it x Veronica: Oh also Tia said you had a hickey on the group call haha tell me what her name is x

Tayce was surprised to realise she was grinning at the phone as she read Veronica’s message, her fingers stroking the mark on her collarbone as if to savour the vivid image that it sparked in her head.

——

It was three days after their drunken kiss on the sofa that Tayce had another letter through the door. The same red glittery pen, the same scrawl, but the writing a little smaller as if Aurora wanted to diminish herself.

‘Hi Tayce. I’m really sorry if i came on too strong this week. Can we go back to friends? Want to hang out tonight, bubble bud? Aurora xx’

Tayce swallowed down the part of her that immediately rose up and cried that she … didn’t want to just be friends.

Then it hit her.

God. I only met this girl properly this month. What’s wrong with me?

But she replied and immediately started clearing the house.

She put the pile of Viv’s birthday cards and presents from the hallway floor into a cupboard under the sink, giving it the middle finger again; put the six-weeks worth of laundry on to wash; cleaned all the dishes; and dragged the hoover out of the tiny airing cupboard and got to work on the carpets. The hard floors she swept, and carried the bin bags out to the communal bins, all before midday.

“Who needs Joe Wicks workouts?” She muttered to herself, panting, as she tugged some marigolds over her hands to sort out the rest of the kitchen.

By the time it was six, and time for Aurora to arrive, Tayce thought the house looked much better, and honestly, she felt much better too. The little spring clean she’d given the place had cleared a little clutter from her head as well.

It’s nothing to worry about. She’d just coming over for food and -

Tayce grimaced as she realised she hadn’t thought of what to do for food. She thought back to the beans on toast she’d had at four and kicked herself for not thinking of that. Dominos was still delivering, so she brought up the app and busied herself looking through the list of pizzas.

Aurora hadn’t arrived by ten past six, and Tayce started to worry.

Maybe she’s changed her mind.

But Tayce refused to let that thought take any root. She looked at the clock, which of course seemed to slow down from having eyes on it, and firmly told herself that she would message Aurora at quarter past if she wasn’t here before.

With a minute to spare, Aurora turned up, grinning merrily and waving the bottle of rose in Tayce’s face.

“Hey bubble bud! Sorry I’m late, well I’m always late, sorry in advance if you expect me on time for anything!” Aurora took a step inside and her jaw dropped. “Wow, your place is well nice!”

“Thanks,” Tayce grinned, although she wasn’t sure what Aurora was looking at. Tayce wasn’t allowed anything on the walls from what her landlord said, but Aurora wouldn’t stay still - checking out the titles of the handful of CDs Tayce had brought down to London with her; scanning a nail along the books on the shelf above the TV.

“It’s nice to hold a book sometimes,” Tayce shrugged, “rather than just read it on the kindle app.”

When Aurora got to the kitchen, Tayce cringed. She’d have to confess.

“I haven’t got in anything to eat. Only - only some bread.”

“And pot noodles,” Aurora added, opening a cupboard and helping herself to the contents as if she’d lived here her whole life.

“And pot - oh, are you thinking, maybe …”

“No way!” Aurora slammed the cupboard door and grabbed her keys again. “Be right back!”

Ten minutes later and Tayce was at the hob over the oven with Aurora, dicing onions while she cut up a red pepper, mince that Aurora had grabbed from her own fridge was out and ready to go in too.

“I needed to use that up anyway,” she shrugged. “Please tell me you don’t just eat bread and pot noodles, Tayce, please. I need to give you a cooking crash course if you do! Didn’t you learn to cook at uni? Or didn’t you do much cooking before you went? Oh my days - no fry the onion off first, with the garlic - I’ll chop the mushrooms, Jesus Christ pot noodles …”

“I know how to cook, give me some credit!” Tayce murmured, but she couldn’t stop smiling. “I just haven’t been to the shop yet, it’s been a long week.”

Aurora closed her eyes and hummed in appreciation. “Just keep talking to me, please.”

“What about?”

“Anything! Your life, your family - I don’t know, house prices, I don’t care - but that accent, ugh -“ Aurora shivered.

“Yours is cute, too,” Tayce smirked.

Aurora looked at her reproachfully. “You’re lying.”

“Yeah, I am.”

It was no use. The air was full of electricity, static around them, and before Tayce knew what was happening, suddenly they were kissing again, this time stone-cold sober, while the onions burned shadows into the bottom of the pan.

——

Viv gave her notice on the flat at the start of June.

“I just can’t afford to live here anymore,” she explained, sighing, when she got back and started to pack up everything in her room. “I’m gonna see if I can get some work back home.”

Tayce was numb, although she knew Viv didn’t mean it personally. It wasn’t her fault that she’d been made redundant straight after the lockdown ended, and it made sense that she wanted to be near her family. It was now four months since Tayce had seen hers, and she missed them every day, although she had been sticking religiously to her new routine of calling her parents every Saturday night and her brother’s family every Sunday afternoon.

“I’m sorry that’s putting you in a tight spot, Tayce,” Viv muttered, hugging her, and Tayce hugged her back.

“Can’t be helped,” Tayce replied, which was all she could think to respond with that wasn’t an inarticulate growl in frustration.

Viv was adamant she would pay her final month’s rent, and pay her half the utilities even though she wasn’t there. But she had to go home.

“How was your move?” Tayce asked Ellie on the next group call on zoom.

“Shite,” Ellie replied, “but partly because we struggled finding someone to move us. There’s plenty of places around, plenty of places to rent and stuff, because everyone’s moved back to where they came from.”

“You’ll find somewhere else to live, bab,” Ginny murmured in a soothing voice to Tayce, stroking the side of the laptop screen as she liked to do to show affection now that she couldn’t hug anyone.

“I know,” Tayce sighed. “It’s just a pain in the arse.”

She wasted no time. One of the spare room websites was always open in the background, and she was refreshing, looking maybe a little further out from central London to see if anywhere was cheaper, but nowhere was.

Then she spotted the dot in her own block of flats, and clicked the advert.

That’s - that’s Aurora’s flat.

Now she remembered. Aurora had mentioned something about her housemate moving out! It must now be official.

She read through the advert - how was it £50 cheaper than what she was already paying? - and looked at the contact name for the housemate, and there it was in black and white pixels: Aurora Martin, use form below.

Grabbing a piece of notebook paper - one of the last bits left, she’d been ripping them all out to write to Aurora - she penned a letter, one of what might well be the last ones, and jogged upstairs to post it through her letterbox.

The response came back to her in less than an hour, a new record for Aurora.

‘Tayce! I’d love it if you wanted to move in here! OMG. My landlord will want references from yours, but if you can get them quick then he can approve you really fast, he’s working from home. OMG you made my day. Come up at 7pm xx’

“Work contacted me today too,” Aurora beamed as she settled with Tayce on the sofa. “They want me to start back next week! Can’t wait. Need to get that coin again now! I mean, I’m dead grateful, you know, that I still have my job and I was on furlough so the government paid most of my wages, but it will be nice to have the full package again!”

“What is it you do again?” Tayce asked.

“Oh - I work as a fashion buyer. But because fashion’s kind of stopped right now, most of the designers are shut. Reopening now, especially the ones in mainland Europe! Can’t wait to be on the phone to them all again.”

“Wait. You speak to designers in other countries?”

Aurora nodded. “I speak French and Spanish.”

“You -“ Tayce was dazed. “I didn’t know that!”

“Well why would you? I mean you’ve only known me a couple of months!” Aurora laughed, and leaned back closer to Tayce, her perfume overwhelmingly sweet in the air. “You’re not gonna know everything about me yet, bubble bud.”

“No,” Tayce purred, “but I can’t wait to find out.”

——

By the Monday after the move, early July, Tayce was all set up to go. She’d moved the bed into the corner as she liked it, arranged her books into a rainbow as she liked them, and unfurled the posters she’d been unable to hang in her last flat, mostly punk bands that she liked, Bimini’s band’s poster, and the noticeboard with all the tickets tacked to it of all the gigs she’d been to. The vanity with the mirror that she’d brought from home fitted perfectly next to the window so she could do her makeup with natural light; and it was large enough for her work setup, which was where she was now.

The flat layout was almost identical to the one she’d just left, and the room was the same one - Aurora having the slightly bigger room - but it felt a lot more comforting, knowing she wasn’t alone here any more, knowing she had a little more freedom in decorations, and knowing that the hollow feeling in her chest was starting to slow down for good.

She turned off her work laptop at five as normal, which was when Aurora came in. Tayce pulled her in, giving her a peck on the lips.

“They’re gonna love you, I promise.”

Aurora just made a moan in the back of her throat and put her face in her hands, shrinking away from the vanity.

Tayce turned on her personal laptop, logging into zoom and connecting to the group chat. Her monthly uni call was set to half four today for some reason, and everyone else was already all there.

“Tayce! We wondered where you’d got to!”

It was Veronica’s voice, and Veronica’s face was in the top left. She still looked a little tired, and the shirt she was wearing looked suspiciously like a pyjama top, but she was here with them all, and this was a big step for her.

Tayce beamed at her. “So good to see you!”

“The move went alright then, bab?” Ginny asked.

Tayce nodded. “And there’s someone you should meet.” She pulled Aurora into frame, who still looked uncharacteristically shy for a moment before waving at the people on the screen. “This is Aurora.”

“Aurora!” Tia squeaked. “Like the princess!”

Aurora rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

“So we’ve got Rory and Ronni here together at last!” Lawrence exclaimed, while Veronica gave the camera two fingers.

But Tayce just grinned at her friends on the screen, far apart but together in this strange way. Aurora’s nails dug into her shoulder, still a little nervous, but even that was fading as she got more comfortable.

Aurora had been right - the city was just a lot of bricks in intricate patterns without someone in it that made it a home.

And this just might be becoming one.

#rpdr fanfiction #rpdr uk #tayce #a'whora #taywhora #ginny lemon #lawrence chaney #veronica green #tia kofi #ellie diamond #uk2 #lesbian au #fluff #hurt/comfort #juno #tw covid lockdown #tw mental health mentions #submission

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sasuhinasno1fan · 3 years

Text

Hero Deku meets Singer Shouto

Hi @ire-mired, I’m your secret santa for the @bnhagiftexchange. Sorry you had to wait so long for this. I hope you enjoy this, it was really hard to pick between the ships and I hope the story was good. It’s more pre-relationship but it just worked out. I thought since I was doing singer!Shouto, I thought it’d be cool to have Quirkless Hero!Izuku as well. There’s a little easter egg from the todoshindeku story ‘Heroics and Other Things That Don’t Require Superheros’ by @thenarator if you’re interested. I hope you enjoy!

Izuku climbed out of the town car. He still felt weird about being carted around like this. Even when he was in civilian clothes, he tended to use his high air pressured shoes to hop around everywhere. Which of course is half of where all those bunny comments came from but it was easier. Public transport got crowded when they realised the quirkless hero Deku was on the same train or bus as them.

But he could keep his comments about it to himself today. Today was special.

“Deku, welcome! We can’t thank you enough for taking the time out of your busy schedule to come today.” The man waiting by the door said, once the hero was close enough. He was in a suit and seemed perfectly put together but he didn’t reek of ‘I’m-to-good-for-everyone’.

“Of course I made time. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

“The kids will be so happy their favourite hero came. You have no idea how much they look up to you.”

“That makes me very happy to hear. Shall we get started?” Izuku asked.

“Of course, right this way. And thank you again for taking the back entrance. We’re all for press taking interest in our cause, but they tend to be a bit overzealous. We handpicked a few to be inside with us. Thank you for the recommendations.”

“My pleasure.”

Izuku walked through the community centre, wishing once again this existed when he was a kid. He was born quirkless, part of the 1%. Growing up had been horrible. Bullied by his best friend (who eventually apologized and was once again on good terms with), treated horribly by prejudice teachers and neighbours, feeling like a burden to his mother, who didn’t know how to encourage him. He’d even been told by his idol All Might he couldn’t be a hero, the one thing he wanted more than anything in the world. He was surprised to later find out, that same day he met the famed hero and found out his secret, to also find out he’d once been quirkless.

“I had forgotten what it was like to wish for something as simple as someone telling me I could. I’m sorry that I couldn’t be the one to tell you that when you needed to hear it.”

All Might – Yagi Toshinori, had offered him his quirk, but in that split second, all Izuku could think of was, ‘what if I can tell someone they can be a hero?’. He’d been quirkless his whole life and it felt like if he said yes, he’d forget where he came from and everything, he faced years later. So he turned down the quirk. When he explained his reasoning, Toshinori smiled.

“Yes, I think we deserve a hero who can prove quirks aren’t everything. Would you still take my offer on helping you get ready for the exams?”

Years later, he’d made it, the first quirkless hero. He still got slander and got yelled at by bigoted people for ‘putting ideas into people’s heads’ but he felt proud of himself. He’d been put into the General Studies class and met Shinsou Hitoshi, a guy with what people considered a villain’s quirk. Together, they proved to everyone that their quirks, or lack thereof, wouldn’t make them unfit heroes. After 3 years with dealing with the League of Villains, internships and general high school drama, he and Hitoshi opened up their agency, with a few of their other class and school mates, Underdog Agency. Name being a tiny bit misleading for those who didn’t know the heroes behind it, but it fit them to a T.

Now whenever he was asked, and he could fit it in between patrols, paperwork and general heroing, he’d go to talks about quirkless kids, charity events, visit schools, anything he could to help lower the stigmatism of quirkless people and to give them a bit of hope. They could be whatever they wanted to be, no matter what anyone said.

This event, was a fundraising event held a community centre geared towards people without quirks. There was a performance stage that was live streamed, mixed in with a silent auction and him, Deku talking with all the kids and visiting people. Just his name alone was bringing in money for the centre. The main gathering area was filled with kids, who’s attention was all on a stage with bright lights all focused on one person.

Split red and white hair, enchanting dual eyes and the grace of season dancer with the voice of an angel. God, he could hear Hitoshi teasing him already.

“I didn’t know Shouto would be here.” He said, trying to sound nonchalant. He didn’t think he sold it but thankfully, the director didn’t know him well enough to guess what he was thinking.

“Well a decent number of our kids unfortunately deal with abusive households or family members. We’ve only just started getting to help these kids so they aren’t forced to be subjected to a quirk heavy view in placing them in new homes or even helping them. Shouto has always been an advocate for helping kids from abusive households, no matter what their quirk or lack thereof. A few kids had written him letters and he apparently rearranged his whole schedule to be here tonight. If you’d like, we’d be more than willing to introduce you to him?”

Introduce him to the guy whose songs have been working as encouragement since his second year after he debuted? It was like a dream come true.

“Sure.”

_____________

Shouto didn’t like heroes. Well, to be more accurate, he didn’t like top tier heroes. They got away with whatever they wanted and nothing could be changed. It didn’t matter that the small burst of courage that came over his sister to film his father’s ‘training’ and upload it had exposed the Number 2 hero and the corrupt Hero’s Commission, things didn’t change. The Commission might be scrutinized by the public, but he refused to believe they’d actually stick to their promise of being better.

It was easy to lose himself in the world of singing. His mother did it a lot, still did. After his father was gone, finally gone, he felt lost. He could have been a hero; prove he’d be better than his father but the idea of following in his footsteps filled him with so much dread. He didn’t attend school for a whole semester, trying to figure out what to do with his life. They moved closer to the countryside, away from the public eye and he’d been helping out at a local festival, lending his voice to one of the dance performances when the lady came up to him. She was on vacation with her friends but she couldn’t shut off her work brain after hearing him sing.

“An idol?” Fuyumi had asked in confusion, trying to wrap her head around the whole thing. “Shouto?”

“His voice is amazing. He’d be a trainee for a while and if the company thinks he can make it, he’d debut. How far he’ll go would be up to him, fans and the company but he’d learn so many skills as a trainee. Just think about it. You wouldn’t have to go there until next month for the monthly meeting with new recruits.”

And he did think about it. A lot. It had been his mother who eventually helped him decide. Even while still in the hospital in the city, after his father’s arrest he finally convinced himself to see his mother. She still loved him and always would.

“Would you want to sing?” she had asked.

“I guess? I’ve been doing it more often. But if I do this, what if he sees and he tries to come after me?”

“Shouto,” she said calmly. Her, the one who was still hurt from everything she had to endure from the person she called a husband. “He’s never going to come after you. you have a chance to do something you want to do. But it’s up to you. I know it’s been hard to figure out where you want to go from here, but remember, you can make your choice now. So, do you want to sing?”

So he decided to at least become a trainee. Moving back to the city was scary. He had to convince himself that his dad wasn’t going to come swoping in and lock him away. The Commission had been dragging their feet in offering any sort of support, which made him dislike them even more, even in the new era of it. But being a trainee made it easy to forget it. If he worked harder than everyone, it wasn’t because he was forced, it was because he wanted to. His siblings would still drag him away from practise if it was getting to be too much. He learned to dance and found he was good at it. He learned to speak different languages. He learned how to make friends, enemies and everything in between.

So when they said he would debut, he agreed, because right there on the stage, was what felt right to him. That still didn’t mean he liked heroes.

With his advocacy to kids in abusive homes, he met a lot of heroes who’d show up to support or even PR related. Very few of them did he actual end up liking, having to keep a smile on in front of kids, but letting his blank face take hold if the ones he didn’t like tried talking to him privately. When he heard there was a hero coming to this charity event for quirkless kids, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Bring a hero in a room full of kids who didn’t have quirks of their own? That outta be good.

He was focused on signing the books and sheets the kids passed to him that he almost didn’t see the director of the charity wave him over. Standing next to him had to be the hero, judging from his green suit and metal face guard that sat around his neck. He did notice the shoes he was wearing, red high tops. Thing was, he’d seen the same pair of shoes, in different colours, on the feet of the kids. Why would a hero wear a brand of shoes made for quirkless people?

“Shouto, I’d like to introduce you to our hero celebrity for the night, Deku. Deku, our celebrity performer, Shouto.”

“Nice to meet you.” the hero Deku said, bright smile on his face. At least it looked genuine.

“Pleasure.”

“Oh my gosh! It’s the Quirkless Hero Deku!” one of the kids shouted and before they knew it, they were surrounded by kids, most of them trying to hang off the tall hero.

Quirkless Hero? He’d never heard of him, but then again, he tended to ignore heroes in general. But at least the kids wouldn’t feel awkward with a hero flexing their quirk when they had none.

“Shouto, did you see? Deku came!” one of the younger girls said, hanging off his arm. “He’s quirkless just like us. He has a lot of support items and he’s really smart! He was able to create a plan to take down that huge crime ring, did you hear about that?”

He’d been living in a recording studio around then so not really, but he nodded anyway. The kids seemed excited and the guy seemed genuine, so clearly, he must not be that bad. He watched him talk to the kids, a huge smile on his face, answering questions just as quickly as they were thrown at him.

Shouto didn’t like top tier heroes, but it seemed that Deku wasn’t that bad. He hoped he didn’t disappoint.

_________________

Talking with the kids kept his spirits up when having to talk to adults, some of whom had some annoying backhanded comments to make about quirkless people. It was annoying some were only giving money to make themselves look better but he’d rather put up with comments then have the kids get no support and live with life just as bad as he used to have it. Shame Hitoshi couldn’t come, people tended to forget when they got full of themselves how easy it was for Hitoshi to take control and make them do things. Only minor, he was a hero after all, but then again, who didn’t have a short fuse for annoying people?

“Excuse me,” a voice interrupted. It was Shouto. His shirt had been unbuttoned a bit after his performance and his clothes were rumpled from all the kids who’d been hanging off of him. “Do you mind if I steal Deku?”

“Ah. I have to ask; you have such a powerful quirk? Why waste it singing around on stage?” one of the doners, who’d also been giving well disguised scathing comments about quirkless people – Izuku really wanted to punch him, or at least throw him out – asked.

“Maybe because unlike some people, I don’t have to flaunt my quirk to be liked. Excuse us.” Shouto said, before pulling Izuku away. “Asshole.” He muttered, loud enough for Izuku to hear.

“I was pretty close to punching him myself. Downside to doing these events, some of those guys slip through and you have to remind yourself that their money helps make the kids’ lives better.”

Shouto had pulled them to a less populated area of the room and took a seat on the floor. There were seats nearby but the dual haired singer seemed quite at home on the floor, so he sat next to him, keeping a decent distance between them. he had been able to keep his fanboying down – Toshinori would be so proud – and he didn’t want to mess up now.

“I have to admit, I was surprised to hear there was a quirkless hero. When I heard a hero was coming, all I could think was that some oversized ego UA graduate was just gonna flaunt their quirk and make some of these kids feel bad.”

“Well, some heroes have less flashy quirks, would that of been so bad?” he wasn’t insulted that Shouto never heard of him. The agency wasn’t as big as some of the others, Hitoshi worked mostly underground and even though he was good, people still liked to disregard him as a hero due to the lack of his quirk. He didn’t care. He graduated from Class A of UA, made an agency right out of school and worked with bigger heroes on missions they needed his help with. The people who mattered noticed him and he was helping kids like him to believe they could do anything.

“I guess. To be honest, I’m not a fan of heroes. I know with how much that’s being given by some of these people, they’d have to bring in a big hero but also be sensitive to the kids. How have I never heard of you?”

Izuku scratched the back of his head. “I’m 8 on the ranking list? Most of the time they tend to ignore me since I’m quirkless. A lot of people still think I shouldn’t do this without a quirk.”

Shouto looked surprised. “You’re in the top 10 and they think you shouldn’t be doing this? What are they idiots?”

“Well, I was taught by the former Number 1 and I’ve seen the pressure it puts on people, so as long as the people who matter know I’m there to protect them, that’s all that matters.”

Shouto hummed thoughtfully. “Kinda like me and singing, I guess. The guy was right, I do have a pretty powerful quirk but…” he trailed off, like he didn’t know how to word what he said next. “I didn’t want to be a hero. I wanted to be something else. So I decided to sing.”

“I know.” It kinda came out of him without permission, but Izuku was known for just going with it once he started something. “You debuted during my second year. Surprisingly, things got a lot more intense during second year, this coming from a graduate of a class singled out by the League. Your songs gave me a boost to keep pushing forward. So, I wanted to say thank you. I know you didn’t sing to you know, do that, but I’m glad you decided to do it.”

Before Shouto could open his mouth, a group of kids came rushing over, jumping on the two adults.

“Shouto, can we braid your hair? It’s so long! You said we could do it later since you had to perform.”

“Deku, is it true you wanted to look like a bunny?”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” Izuku asked out loud.

“Because your hood has ears.” The child answered matter-of-factly.

“It’s supposed to be All Might’s hair.” He muttered before deciding to distract them by asking the kids their favourite things to do. The girls who came over had already made quick work ok tying up his hair with a random bag of hairties.

“Fan of All Might?” Shouto asked around the working hands. He seemed completely at ease with his head being moved around every two seconds

“Well, he was quirkless for most of his life. I found that out when I first met him and that’s what helped me decide to really try and be a hero without a quirk.”

“That’s why he’s our favourite!” one of the kids said, making himself quite at home on Izuku’s lap.

“Well I hope I can still inspire you guys to go after your dreams. Just know even if it seems like no one does, I believe in you guys. Always will.”

That statement did lead to all the kids jumping on him in happiness, sending him tumbling back. He saw Shouto smiling down at him, still looking amazing with his messy hair.

_______________

The silent auction was coming to an end and he and Deku had been asked to announce the winners. To keep the kids from distracting them, they waited in a small office not far from the main area.

“So, what does Japan’s first quirkless hero when he’s not advocating for quirkless people?” Shouto asked, shaking his head as he pulled out all the messy braids.

“when I’m not heroing? My best friend Hitoshi takes me to all these cat cafes and I take the chance to try out all the match au late they have. I remember I had this amazing one on I-Island. I’ve been trying to find one just as good since.”

“Well, the ones they have at the café at my company’s building are pretty good. You should come by.” The singer took in the hero’s surprised face. He wasn’t into heroes, but this one was one of the decent ones, even a really good one. “remind me to give you my number later and when you have time, I can show you. plus, their cakes are to die for.”

“Shouto, Deku, we’re ready for you.” the director called before the hero could give an answer.

The singer sent a smile over his shoulder, enjoying how red the hero had become. He did get Deku’s number by the end of the night, plus his name.

Izuku. Hmm, maybe he’d get to call him that more often.

#bnha gift exchange #quirkless hero deku #singer shouto #pre tododeku #shouto never went to ua

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statticscribbles · 3 years

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Transition Period Chpt 4

Transition Period Chapter 4: Jughead/Reader

It’s only been five months since you’ve been living with the Andrews, since your parents kicked out and then had the audacity to move slightly farther away, clearly sending the message if they didn’t have a daughter they didn’t have a child at all. You know that bothers Fred Andrews more than he wants to admit.

You also know that he’d been pouring over medical bills and various receipts and you’d wanted to say something, assuring him you could find somewhere else to stay, but then Cheryl and Veronica manage to slip bills between anything that exists in the Andrews house, you help, it's what you imagine parents feel like on easter having to hide eggs for easter egg hunts. You chuckle at the image of the three of you dressed in bunny costumes and keep stuffing money in various spots. You don’t ask Veronica or Cheryl how much they’ve been hiding, the highest they’d given you was seven twenty dollar bills and you assume they have a similar amount with how quickly they finish.

Archie is the one to tell his dad what Veronica and Cheryl have done.

The extra cash amounts to not only covering the few expenses you living with had brought up but also as Fred suggests pay for you to start your transition properly, he hits and not only a steady supply of Testosterone, instead of the last bit of prescription gel you’d been trying to stretch out, but even fully covering top surgery. You refuse, you can’t let them use all that money on you, a practical stranger, although Fred seems to laugh and nudges Archie who glares a little. “What was that about?”

“My dad is convinced you and Jughead are going to get married, and since Jughead is basically his son, well he’s basically saying you’re family.”

“Wait have we just completely skipped dating in your dad’s mind then?”

“Oh totally, he’s a very forward thinking person.” Archie laughs and Jughead snorts into his shake as you’re once again complaining about Archie’s family using the extra money on you.

“Besides it’ll just be sitting somewhere, and there’s plenty to keep in savings, since we can pay on instalments or through a payment plan.”

“Okay, maybe..”

You give in after Jughead and you make-put and his hand runs against your side and you pull back when he nudges your chest slightly, you hadn’t realized how much it truly bothered you until you’d been presented with the option.

“I’m starting a go fund me campaign, i’m not letting your dad pay for that shit Archie, it’s hella expensive.”

“Fine.” Archie seems to relent and you’re not sure why until he stops in front of the pharmacy and you can see him waving a prescription order in your face.

“We’re getting you your first T-shot today then.”

“Can you help?”

“Well yeah that’s why I’m here.”

“No like do the shot…”

You can’t look as Archie pushes the plunger into the bottle, when he holds it up, to tap at it you cringe and cover your eyes with your hands.

“Let me know when you do it.”

“I’ll count to five.”

“Thanks…”

“Okay give me a sec I just-” Archie doesn’t finish you yelp when he suddenly jabs you and you grin a little finally peeling your hands away to see him tossing the used needle and already covering up the spot with a race car bandaid.

“Race Cars?”

“I haven’t needed bandaids since I was like six.” Archie assures and you want to say something else, but Fred calls you down for dinner.

This becomes the usual routine, Fred, having returned most of the money to Veronica and Cheryl, both of whom still casually slip in bills at random places, comments that you should check on your go fund me status, you open the page laughing as it says Fred’s donated two hundred dollars. You blink, suddenly confused as the rest of the goal is met twice over, you know it’s Cheryl and maybe Veronica’s doing but you only see one name listed.

“Do we know anyone named Forsythe?”

“Huh, so Jughead went through with it.”

“Through with what?”

“He said he was going to mention to his dad about using the Serpent medical fund to help you out.”

“Oh wow, but I’m not a Serpent, do I have to join now?”

“I don’t think so, he probably just did it cause he has a crush on you.”

“I feel like I shouldn’t know that.”

“Oh you totally shouldn’t; but I’m not going to let you go into your surgery not aware of that. Besides if something happened, which Jughead is terrified of, then you know how he feels about you, and depending on what you say, I can tell him while you’re out so then when you’re back home you two can have a talk without the awkward confession first.”

“That’s sweet if not a little backwards.”

You’re not really sure where you are when you wake up but you can hear someone chatting and then the voice gets slightly more in focus and you realize the nurse is talking to you.

She helps you sit up and you answer her questions as she offers you some water, half of it ends up down your shirt and when you look down you’re annoyed at the tubes looping from your armpits.

“I look like shit.” You grumble and then feel a hand brushing your shoulder.

“I don’t think so.” You feel Jughead’s lips brush against your cheek.

“I thought I was in the recovery room?”

“You were but they said it was okay for you to have a regular room for a little bit while they monitor you.”

“Oh.”

“You fell asleep and they said to just to let you rest, so we did.”

”So?” You grin a little and nod to where Jughead doesn’t look up from the notes you’d lent him.

“Mhm, your shirt is nice.”

“Jughead.” You huff a little and he still doesn’t look up, you’d finally healed enough to not have to wear a shirt, having a fully flat chest now, you’d wanted to show it off, but then Jughead grins at the notes.

“So I was wondering if you wanted to-” He finally looks up, face flushing as he realizes you’re topless.

“If I wanted to?”

“Go, uh to pop’s, on a date…”

“I’d love to.”

“Okay good.” Jughead keeps his eyes down and you laugh, leaning slightly forward.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just uh, you not having a shirt on is distracting.”

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#jughead jones imagine #jughead jones #jughead jones x trans reader #jughead jones x y/n #jughead jones x you #jughead jones x reader #jughead x reader #jughead x you #jughead x y/n #trans reader insert #trans reader #transition period #written #stattic

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fleckcmscott · 4 years

Text

Bewitching Hour

Summary: October has been a blissfully busy month. With Halloween around the corner, Arthur and Y/N have some planning to do.

Warnings: Swearing

Words: 4,665

A/N: Special thanks to @hhandley80 for this request! You've been so supportive and sweet. I truly appreciate you and hope you enjoy it!

On a side note, my oneshots will be more sporadic. I'm still writing but life has been life. Also, I've finished the first draft of another multi-chapter featuring Arthur and Y/N. It's going to take time to rewrite the subsequent drafts and edit, edit, edit. The chapters will go up once the story is ready. Thanks for your patience and support! 🙂 I heart you all!

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask!

Arthur's suggestion that they make plans to celebrate Halloween should not have been a surprise. He loved starting traditions with Y/N, and she prized adopting them with him. "It's been awhile," he'd said as they'd walked arm-in-arm to the laundromat. "I think it'd be nice."

Holidays had been a source of merriment most of her life. The beauty of red and green decorations at Christmas. Turkey and mashed potatoes at Thanksgiving. An egg hunt and chocolate rabbit at Easter. The togetherness of family during them all.

Halloween, though, wasn't a favorite.

As a child, she'd had fun trick-or-treating, riding her bike from house to far-flung house. And she hadn't minded escorting her little sister as a teenager. Y/N's homemade witch costume had been passed down. She could still recall the sleekness of the ribbon between her fingers as she'd secured the pointed hat under Mabel's chin.

But the magic had fallen away. When married to Jeff, she'd had to attend his boss's annual party. After receiving an apologetic shrug and kiss, she'd be relegated to hanging out with the other wives. They'd included her in their recipe swaps, in their exchanges of mild gossip. Her natural friendliness made chit-chat easy, far easier than having a good time. Those evenings had been spent nursing a glass of wine and willing the clock to go faster.

During the period she'd cared for her father, she'd tried to hand out candy. She liked being a good neighbor and imparting kindness in the form of bite-sized sweets. As his health had declined, the porch light had gone dark. Random rings of the doorbell would result in shouting and swearing. Repeated attempts to explain the door's lock wasn't broken. Festivity would transform into drudgery. It hadn't been worth the trouble. Instead, she'd watched terrible TV specials while her thoughts wandered to a future far from Boonville. A future she'd doubted would ever be.

"I don't know if it's your thing," Arthur had continued, bringing her back to the present. "But you might enjoy it with me." The response he longed for was evident in the worrying of his pocket, outlines of his knuckles visible through the tan cloth.

Everything they'd experienced together had soothed the sting of those wasted years. The hesitancy lurking in her was silly. Unwelcome. Less than either of them deserved. She'd met his keen eyes and half-smile. The sudden mental image of him dressed as a cowboy or pirate, eyepatch and all, prompted a laugh. Convinced her as she dug out her dry-cleaning stub. "It isn't my thing," she'd said. "But you are."

Relief had relaxed his wrinkles, save for his crows feet, which had deepened as he'd returned her happy expression. A slender arm wrapped around her waist, drew her against his solid frame. Once the clerk disappeared through the swinging doors to retrieve their clothes, Arthur grasped her chin and kissed her. The tender explorations were soon sloppy, and she'd giggled, his enthusiasm becoming her own. Their noses had met, his lashes resting on his wide cheekbones. "I think you're the sweetest treat, Mrs. Fleck."

Currently, Donahue's Department Store, Gotham's number one retail emporium (if the ads were to be believed), was bustling with last-minute shoppers. Weary mothers escorted their babbling children through the aisles. Clerks swapped out displays for the changing blue light specials. Lines went for yards. Patricia and Y/N sought refuge at a corner table in the café on the top floor. The warm glow from the pendant lamps provided a relaxed ambience, one that matched the hot cider and pumpkin spice cake they were savoring.

"I've got my grandson on Sunday," Patricia said between bites. "My daughter's going to a party with a medical records tech from Gotham General. Met him when she missed the bus. They split a cab and hit it off." Chuckling, she lifted her mug. "Speaking of, how's married life been so far?"

Memories of the past week quickened Y/N's heart, until she thought it might stop. How Arthur had gripped her replacement Social Security card, just to read her new name. The way he'd grab her for a twirl whenever they were in the kitchen. The reverence in his gaze when they'd lay together after sex, a look that both thrilled and made her blush. "The bills for his medication and appointments will no longer make us cringe," she deadpanned. She lowered her fork. "When we met, I was kind of blindsided - I'm not the type to fall in love quickly." The corners of her lips tugged up. "Being married to Arthur feels like a habit. A habit I should have learned twenty years ago."

"I'm glad you found each other." Patricia reached across the light brown table and covered Y/N's hand, gave it a squeeze. Then she wiped frosting from her mouth and nodded in the direction of the escalator. "Now let's find a costume that'll drive him nuts."

Beyond the colorful cosmetics and pungent perfume counters, they sorted through racks of vinyl smocks and plastic masks. Pop culture icons and princesses. Vampires and spooks. Knockoffs of classic movie monsters. Most were poorly made and decidedly uninteresting. Y/N pawed through accessories in a nearby basket, a cigar here, a patched hat there. "How about a hobo? I could steal Arthur's tie."

"This was his idea. Give him something a little exciting." After a roll of Y/N's eyes, Patricia held out a plastic display bag. "Found it."

The white font on its blue label declared she should "Create a unique look!" A woman in a leopard-print leotard and bow-tie wore black cat ears and a tail, the only two items included in the set. Y/N's nose wrinkled. "I don't think so, Patricia." She rummaged through another bin and examined a hockey mask. "I don't show a lot of skin."

"You show Arthur." Patricia ignored Y/N's glare, continuing to shove it at her. "Every man loves a woman dressed as a cat. Our next lunch is on me if I'm wrong."

Patricia could be relentless, but Y/N had to admit she was usually right. She arched a brow as she eyed the costume. Maybe she could find a solid body suit instead of animal print. The kit was only $2.98. And her friend had made it a challenge. "You're on. But I'm not wearing a bow-tie." She crossed her arms across her chest and tapped her mouth. "Your turn. Would Robert like you as a French maid or a go-go dancer?"

~~~~~

It was a busy season for performers. Arthur remembered HaHa's talent agency being booked solid for October by the end of August. Myriad functions at nursing homes, parties, and children's organizations took place throughout the city. Amusement Mile had a series of special events, allowing Arthur to work extra hours before the slowness of winter dragged in. Once the holiday was over, he'd buy make-up and props on clearance.

He'd always assumed he would like Halloween - if he'd had the chance to celebrate it properly. It was about connection, something he'd never managed. The customs gave him a pretense, a template to meet people, rather than leaving him wondering how to go about it. Provided a hiding place for his seeming inability to act normal.

Recollections of the day were few but vivid. When he'd been around eight, there'd been a party at school. The teacher had made brownies and given the students a half-hour respite from lessons. (A welcome relief, since he wasn't very good at most of them.) But he hadn't had a costume. Hadn't known how to reply when the other kids asked where it was. Not wanting to be left out, he'd pocketed a watercolor pallet and sneaked to the bathroom.

The teacher (he wished he could remember her name) had walked in as he'd smeared green and blue on his face, a pathetic attempt at a turtle. Fear of punishment had caused his laughter. But her kindness as she knelt, wiped away tears and pigment with a scratchy, brown paper towel, had calmed him. "Wait here," she'd instructed. It had taken all his courage not to run home.

After some minutes, she'd returned, an old white sheet in one hand, black marker and pair of scissors in the other. "The nurse won't miss this." She'd traced eyeholes, helped him cut them out. She'd asked questions. About his mother and what it was like at home. Questions he was at a loss for how to answer. Finally, she'd draped the cloth over his head. "There," she'd declared. "Gotham Elementary has its own ghost."

Even as he'd gotten taller and the sheet no longer went beyond his knees, that costume had remained his go-to. He'd venture out to the rest of his building, knocking on paint-chipped doors and pushing broken buzzers. Having learned to stay away from doors that yelling or funny smells emanated from, he hadn't gotten a lot of candy. What he had collected he'd shared with Penny. The wax lips became a free toy. He wasn't sure his memory of startling his mother and being tickled until he couldn't breathe was real or imagined.

At twelve, he was told he was too old to go trick-or-treating. He'd starting scrounging for change to buy hard candies at Helm's Pharmacy. They weren't particularly appetizing, but they'd been what he could afford. Only a few kids rang, a number that dwindled further every year. Most neighbors kept their distance, likely aware he was troubled. Cinnamon discs and butterscotch drops had loitered around the apartment for months. He'd sucked on them in an attempt to cut down on his smoking, just to save money. It hadn't worked.

Y/N hadn't spoken about the holiday, not the way she had other special occasions. At first, he'd thought it had slipped her mind. Work, planning their honeymoon, completing the red tape required to meld all aspects of their lives had taken up much of their time. But, given her reluctance to talk in detail about her past heartache, he'd come to assume her Halloweens had been unpleasant. He was certain he could change that.

Sitting on the dingy, dark green plastic seat of the train car, he giggled to himself, chest puffing up as he straightened. They'd been man and wife for eight whole days. Movies and songs said love was supposed to be somewhere between serendipitous and fated. A happy accident that was meant to be. Lying awake at night, he would find himself wondering where they were on that scale. If the emotions swirling through him - the excitement of belonging, the fear of fucking up - were what every newlywed felt. Then Y/N would snuggle closer in her sleep, murmur nonsense into his skin, and for a few minutes he'd be at peace.

Years had been spent trying to figure out who he was. Trying to find an identity, his role within the world. While he was still searching, it had been far easier to become accustomed to the role of "husband" than he'd dreamed.

Teaching his wife about events across the city had been a delight. Gotham Village's Annual Costume Extravaganza was a parade that went all the way to Gotham Square. He'd participated a couple of times, never formally registering but slipping into the clown section. It had been exhilarating. Had allowed him to pretend, for a little while, that he was being seen. That the crowds lining the sidewalks were cheering for him. Signs for extravagant balls were plastered on billboards and lampposts throughout the streets; he'd have gladly attended and shown her off. A haunted house was being held in a building in his old neighborhood, a fundraiser for the orphanage. He hadn't brought that up.

In the end, once he'd explained trick-or-treaters went from apartment to apartment, they'd decided on a cozy evening at home. The details had been left to her. Whatever she'd plan, he'd love it. He wondered what she'd disguise herself as. Would she be a sexy devil or nurse, like he'd seen on a sit-com? The notion sparked a fire in his cheeks.

Given how busy he'd be, he'd stay dressed as plain, old Carnival. Part of him regretted accepting two gigs, especially on a Sunday. He would have preferred her company. But he wanted to put the money towards the wedding band he'd put on layaway. (Even though they had one account, he wasn't going to let her chip in for it.) He should already be wearing it for all of Gotham to see.

The lurch of the subway prompted him to rise and grasp the pole grip. His stance widened as it came to a halt, knees bending with the instinct of a man who'd ridden public transportation since he was a boy. As soon as the graffiti-covered doors parted, he stepped out onto the platform and ascended the stairs, eager to share his new insurance information with Dr. Ludlow.

~~~~~

Scratchy violins and the hum of a theremin. Shrill shrieks and cracks of thunder. A cackle resounded, then a pipe organ, playing a melody in a minor key.

There was no doubt about it. Halloween spirit had saturated 4A.

NCB's Movie Marathon Mayhem had begun at 10:00 AM. Y/N had had it on since getting out of the shower, hoping to catch a horror classic while she decorated the apartment and prepared Bloody Mary mix. As she hung cotton batting between the television's rabbit ears, creating a long, narrow spider-web, she realized they were only playing cheesy B-movies. Giant insects threatening buildings. Science experiments gone wrong. Alien invasions. Oh well. At least she wouldn't have to pay much attention to get the gist of the plots.

The orange plastic platter, black bats along its edges, had been an impulse buy. She thought its array of sugary skeletons, candy bracelets, and Jolly Jack chocolate bars would be well received. But having seen only one or two kids in the lobby, she had no idea how many children lived in their building. She hoped she'd bought enough.

The cardstock window decorations she'd found were festive and matched Arthur's sweet nature. One portrayed a warted, green witch flying on a broom past a full moon. On the other, a ghost and mouse shared a pillowcase of candy and wished a "Happy Halloween." She held the tape dispenser between her teeth as she stuck them to their white front door.

Just then, the elevator dinged. Glancing to her left, she saw Arthur stroll down the cheerfully lit hallway. Buoyant expression on him, despite his white, blue, and red make-up being streaked from sweat. Striped prop bag on his shoulder and carved pumpkin cradled in his arms. "The store owner was going to throw it out," he explained with a half hug. "But he let me have it as a tip."

Classic, triangular eyes evoked the annual carving contest her parents had taken part of back home. Her father had been well-known in the community, being the town's only doctor. Entering the competition had been expected. They'd never won but enjoyed it all the same. Y/N had picked out the patterns and scooped out the squash's slimy innards. Her mother had baked the seeds. Peals of their laughter echoed in her ears, and a lump formed in her throat.

She swallowed hard against it. Dammit, Y/N. Get it together. This was supposed to be a special night for Arthur and her. She needed to distract herself. One of his curls peeked out from under his bald-cap and green wig. She twirled a strand around her finger. "With that toothy grin, it just might be your twin," she said. He pecked her temple, the kiss sticky from greasepaint. She lit the half-melted candles using his red lighter and put the jack-o-lantern just outside their door.

While he freshened his paint in the bedroom, she slinked into the bathroom to change. Arthur's and her routines were closely aligned; keeping her costume hidden had not been easy. The headband holding the furry cat ears was quite stiff, its teeth a tad sharp on her scalp. Once it was in place, she hid it under her hair. The lint on her form-fitting stretch top and leggings reminded her why she rarely wore all black. She retrieved her brown eyeliner from the nearby shelf and started in on her whiskers.

Arthur's footsteps neared, heavy due to his clown shoes, and Y/N turned to lean back on the sink. His thin lips parted as he scanned her body, forehead furrowed in pleasant surprise. His reaction planted a seed of bliss in her belly, one that bloomed every second they regarded each other. The lunch she'd have to spring for was well worth the pink shells of his ears. Eventually, she held out the fluffy, wired tail and a safety pin. "Would you pin this just below my waistband?"

Fingers grazing hers, he took it and sat on the toilet lid. He cupped her hips and pulled her closer, positioned her until the dampness of his breath hit a bare sliver of her back. "Hold still," he murmured, his voice sending a tingle through her. At his gentle ministrations, the spandex of her leggings felt snugger. "Did you- Did you read my journal?"

A faint click of metal as the pin closed. "No." She colored the tip of her nose, frowned at how lackluster the shade was. "I'd never do that. Even if I'm dying for a preview of your material. Why?"

"No reason." A soft huff, his shy smile clear in his answer. "I have an idea." He handed her a washcloth and hurried out of the room. She was patting her face dry when he returned, a fine tipped brush and pot of black greasepaint in his hand. "This'll look better."

Her brow arched. She'd only had her make-up done once; Patricia had invited her when they'd first met. Such an outing was not her preference, but Y/N had accepted, being new in town and wanting to learn about her colleague. There'd been champagne at the counter, which she'd sipped until she'd spent too much on eyeshadow and apricot scrub. The next morning, she'd put the products and a note on Patricia's desk: "I'll never forgive you. Thanks!"

The heat radiating from Arthur prompted her to close the gap between them. She craned her neck towards him, slid her palms to his yellow vest until she held him just below his ribs. His forefinger curled under her chin, lifted it slightly and angled it to the right. The cool, wet brush met her fevered skin. The dusty smell of the greasepaint blended with a whiff of stale cigarette smoke and traces of his sweat. She licked her lips.

The vibration of his chuckle was felt before heard. "I really like your costume," he said lowly. Two more ticklish caresses of the bristles on the apple of her cheek. "If you're not careful, I might werewolf and go wild."

She stretched closer to him, the fervor in his tone going straight to her center. Though he'd been growing bolder, his cocky side wasn't often revealed. She wanted it, thirsted to see more of the wild horse kicking inside him. Her touch ran over his chest, until she dipped under his black suspenders and pulled. "Are you going to gobble me up?"

Teasing strokes on her nose. "Maybe." Then his thumb whispered along her jaw and guided her face upwards. His kiss was supple, slow, a drag of his mouth as his tongue sought entry. She yielded, the simmer of anticipation bringing her to her toes. He groaned deeply and palmed her thigh, then fondled the curve of her rear-

The ding-dong of the doorbell halted them. He lifted his head and laughed, gaze sparkling. "I got paint on you."

She twisted in his arms and looked in the mirror. The whiskers caught her eye, embellished at the ends with dainty curlicues - his skill never ceased to impress her. Red brightened her lips and streaks of white were on her cheek. "It's all right. They'll just know I've been necking with a clown."

~~~~~

The sound of the bell continued. Over and over and over. More than it ever had in Otisburg. There were mummies, ghosts, a couple of skeletons. A superhero proudly displayed his red cape and blue tights, and a kid in her karate robe went on about her yellow belt. A tiny clown, too young to walk, was brought by her sister. As Arthur made funny faces, the baby cooed and tried to take his red, foam nose. Arthur parted with it gladly.

Only one member of the Wayne family appeared, slicked back hair and pompous pout making the disguise complete. The man accompanying the boy introduced himself as their upstairs neighbor and shook their hands. After one look at Y/N, he nudged Arthur's bicep. "So, she's the one keeping half the building up at night. Good on you, pal." Arthur blinked in confusion as she ushered the guy away, red-faced and muttering about his nerve.

Arthur was overly generous, giving out fistfuls of sweets while taking a few extra seconds to gather his nerves and compliment the costumes he liked best. It felt good to interact with strangers without constantly second guessing himself. Y/N would rub his arm or kiss his shoulder and tell him what a great job he was doing. "Kids are easy," he said, refilling the candy dish. But he reveled in her praises, anyway. And the knowledge that meeting the neighbors was going well.

Clean-up required little effort. The jack-o-lantern sat on their kitchen table, flames flickering as the wicks burned away. The door decor was packed safely for use next year. His plaid blazer was slung over the back of a dining chair and his wig was off. Y/N's decision to leave her whiskers on pleased him - she made a damn sexy cat. He pocketed the last few pieces of candy to snack on during the remainder of the evening.

The Sunday Night Special Presentation she'd picked out, a made-for-TV horror movie, began at 9:00 PM on GBC. Most of its airtime was punctuated by her tipsy snickers and legal wisecracks, which was typical when they watched something stupid. Yet, as the show went on, she grew quieter, barely speaking between sips of her third cocktail. As they sat on the sofa, her posture stiffened. Forearms crossed over her breasts. Her nails dug into her upper arm.

The change started two-thirds of the way into the show, when the plot about a doll running amok twisted into a story about a professional woman trying to assert herself against the demands of her mother. Against the expectations of availability. To fight for the simplicity of having dinner and peace and quiet. It resonated with him, which felt weird. Especially when the film cut to black, the implication being the mother would meet a violent end at the hands of her possessed daughter.

A cheerful jingle came on. Puerto Rico was a direct flight from Gotham Airport, it advertised, a flight that lasted "two hours and fifteen tropical minutes." They should get out while the weather was still good. The juxtaposition of mood broke him out of his ponderings. He flicked off the blaring television with the remote. Then he heard Y/N sniffling.

She set her glass on the coffee table, a slight tremble in her hand. "I need some air," she whispered as she rose, then went out onto the fire escape.

Arthur rubbed his thigh and pressed his lips together. He wasn't used to seeing her cry. Not from sadness. Should he follow her? Give her time? Both had worked previously, depending on the situation. But he wasn't sure what had upset her, what situation they were in now.

Exhaling sharply, he grabbed her glass and dumped the rest of the drink down the kitchen sink. Rinsed their dinner plates and put the slow cooker in the fridge. When he'd finished making decaf coffee ten minutes later, she still hadn't returned. He ambled towards the ajar glass door and stepped out.

Moonlight outlined her shapely figure and reflected off her hair, the silver a contrast to the orange glow of the streetlamps illuminating her face. Her stare seemed fixated on the street below. He followed it to see a group of ghouls and goblins spraying shaving cream on a shop window. A couple, one he'd see occasionally when out for a cigarette, walked down the sidewalk. A woman was half-carrying a drunk man towards a bus stop.

Upon clearing her throat, Y/N spoke. "I may not look like it, but I had a great time with you tonight. The movie just got to me." Relieved, Arthur sidled next to her, wrapped his arm about her back. Her head fell to his shoulder and she smoothed her hand over his stomach. "I don't mean to hide from you. Someday you'll know the details of my earlier life." She scoffed. "When I'm ready to think about them." He entwined their fingers and kissed her hairline, avoiding the wired tips of her cat ears.

Shivering, she took a shaky breath. "There are no skeletons in my closet. Only disappointments." Her voice cracked as she beamed at him, cupped his cheek, and pressed her face to his. "Knowing I'd get to have you would have made those years so much easier."

He held her tightly, massaging between her shoulders. She'd been speaking about herself, but he couldn't help thinking it was about him, too. His years with Penny. His stints in Arkham. The loneliness, the isolation, the endless anger and yearning to be more than a speck of dirt no one cared for. His journal was full of questions about where the hell his one and only was. If he'd known she'd be real, tangible instead of a figment, would existence have hurt less?

Wincing, he tried to push through those thoughts. To focus on her instead of himself. What mattered was that Y/N needed him. Perhaps a joke would cheer her. "I was thinking the other night of how easy it is to smile around you," he said. "You tickle my funny bone." Amusement bubbled in her throat, music to his ears. She released a contented sigh and nuzzled the crook of his neck.

Peaceful stillness ensued as the minutes passed. Though the breeze was chill, goosebumps forming on his pale skin, her affection kept his heart warm. His fingertips rubbed circles into her lower back, and she offered a pleasured hum. Across the way, footsteps pounded. He glanced to see a kid darting up the street, plastic pumpkin pail in tow. The boy's scream was filled with boundless energy: "Happy Halloween, Gotham!"

Snorting, Y/N took Arthur's hand and led him inside. The cheap tail she wore bounced with every exaggerated swivel of her hips. "I've behaved all evening, which your werewolf comment made extraordinarily difficult." She looped her arms around him and flashed a come-hither stare. "May I have a goodie?"

The scrape of her nails on his scalp coiled a knot in his abdomen. "Aren't you supposed to say 'trick-or-treat?'" he asked huskily.

"Your pussycat needs a petting or two." She closed the bedroom door behind them. "Maybe even a mauling."

His brows shot up on a hitched giggle. Then he palmed her hip while she started in on his buttons. Before she got too far, he traced a whisker with the pad of his thumb. Let their foreheads meet and pecked her eyelids. "Only if you give me something good to eat." He pressed into her, his enjoyment relentless, not waiting for her reply before devouring her mouth.

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve, @howdylilflower, @sweet-nothings04, @stephieraptorr, @rommies, @fallenstarsabyss, @gruffle1, @octopus-plasma, @tsukiakarinobara, @arthur-flecks-lovely-smile, @another-day-in-chuckletown, @hhandley80, @jokerownsmysoul, @mrscarnival

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x ofc #arthur fleck x female reader #joker 2019 #watchwhathappens

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maryellencarter · 3 years

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So the final cause, if I recall my Aristotle (I was terrible at Aristotelian logic, or at least at what the badly illustrated homeschool textbook said was Aristotelian logic), was that my apartment has been growing irregularly more squalorous for months. Occasionally I would have a bout of energy and put my groceries in the pantry, but for the most part I've been doing well to keep up on the laundry. The proximal cause was... probably the coloring books.

Anyway, this morning I put on pants that were not sweatpants, probably for the first time in months, because going to get vaccinated is a festal occasion and one ought to look one's best. (I put on my cute top with the frilly shoulder straps and the little rosettes, too, since I figured it'd be smart to wear something sleeveless. And my combat boots with the pastel tiedye laces, in case of hiking, which also turned out to be smart. I was decked out.)

So then I went and showed a number of people my ID and my appointment email, and they poked me with a timy needle -- not as small as the one they used in the ER for the insulin that time, I didn't even feel that one, but a very nice thin needle compared to my usual standard of needles, which are the ones they use to try and get blood *out* of you, and often fail when you are me. Then they made me sit down for fifteen minutes in case I took an allergy, and then they gave me a lollipop (I got blue cotton candy, my favorite flavor) and a sticker with a hashtag on it and I left.

Then I got to wend my way back from the place where the vaccinations were happening -- it was a big event on the college campus, since they have a lot of nice big rooms and wide open spaces there -- and it happened I was coming back from a direction I do not usually wend my way from, and I dropped into Michaels. Usually I go to Joann's, because they have fabric, which Michaels doesn't, and Michaels is generally a bit froofier in the sorts of craft supplies they stock at least locally, but the Michaels and the Joann's are right across the street from each other, and I still haven't heard anything about my special order on the floss color that Joann's was out of. Michaels doesn't have the full range of DMC colors, but I took a look and they did in fact have the color I needed.

Then I wandered around some, because Michaels actually does have a bigger yarn selection than Joann's, and I found some Patons Kroy (my absolute favorite sock yarn for feel and texture) in a colorway I didn't loathe, which is *not* something I've been able to find since they stopped making that one colorway with all the orange and black and gray stripes, which I loved dearly and can't remember the name of. So I was like "this will be just the thing for that one lace scarf I was looking at that needs wool yarn in case it has to be blocked to look right", because knitted lace is like that and you can't block acrylic. You can "kill" acrylic but that's different and I'd rather not.

Um. Anyway. Then I wandered around some more, because I get into Michaels so seldom that it's handy to look at what-all they've got while I'm there. Over the past... week or so I have had a sudden bout of wanting to color in coloring books, because that happens to me sometimes; there was an impulse trip to the Walmart way out in the boondocks on the unlit road for Crayola colored pencils, because I decided I was not going to pay eight times as much for Prismacolors.

(The really infuriating thing about coloring books, in my opinion, is that right now you can either find the kiddie newsprint coloring books which are with us always, of course, or you can find "adult coloring books" which are *in-fucking-variably* filled with horses and lions and whales and other large charismatic mammals covered in what look for all the world like quilting patterns. If I wanted to color a rendition of a quilt filled with tiny stripes and polka dots, I'd get some graph paper! And the dots and lines and so forth are so tiny that you can *only* color them with colored pencils, because that's Adulty.)

(Yes, I know they sell coloring pages on Etsy and places. I've been avoiding the print shop for at least a month and a half now, when if I would put the things on my thumb drive and go to it, I could start getting my student loans out of default. I would never wind up printing coloring pages off of Etsy. No, I don't know why. Print shops scare me, perhaps slightly worse than post offices.)

Um. Where was I? So I had gone way far out to the Walmart nobody goes to which therefore often has interesting things in stock, and I had discovered that Crayola still does the glitter crayons I had coveted as a tiny, and they also make double-ended scented markers, which are like the coolest thing ever to the tiny early-nineties child I still am in my heart. So as of this morning, my kitchen counter was completely covered with... things. There was already the sewing machine and the Dr Pepper that doesn't taste like an old shoe, and the peanut butter and the elephant-shaped porcelain wax-warmer, but there had been a narrow slot where I could put a plate and eat my meals -- my only table having been co-opted a year ago by my workstation. Now that slot was filled with various Crayola products and a coloring book with mermaids in it, which at least had a few pages that could be colored partly with markers or crayons, instead of being entirely minced into geometric shapes barely larger than a pencil lead.

SO, what happened after I got vaccinated and found yarn and floss, is that I found out that Crayola still makes the *pearlescent* crayons I coveted even more as a kid. I had gotten one in a little sample pack included with my big 64-box, and it was very precious to me. It's long gone now, of course.

So of course then I bought the pearlescent crayons, and then I bitched at Leia for a while about how I didn't have any coloring books I could use these wonderful crayons *on* unless I wanted to go back to the Lisa Frank newsprint of my youth. (They did actually have Lisa Frank. I strongly considered it. But my tastes have evolved beyond newsprint.)

Then I googled some things, and I found Walmart listing a Crayola mandala coloring book. I went to look for it, and I didn't find it, but I did find a different coloring book with "stained glass" style pictures (sadly not on actual tracing paper, but it occurs to me that if I could source some tracing paper, which it further occurs to me that I haven't seen in years although admittedly I haven't been looking, that I could *trace them* and color them and tape them on my windows like the tacky '90s kid I am), which GLORY HALLELUJAH has spaces big enough to fucking color in!

...Michaels also had neon and metallic Crayola crayons. I might go back. They were 24-packs of each. The single silver and gold crayons from my mom's 64-pack were pretty much only used for Easter eggs in our house, so as not to use them up. I just -- I have a wealth beyond imagining of special effect crayons and markers available to me, and I'm struggling to find anywhere to use them. This seems backwards.

So anyway, then I also found a cute sundress big enough to go over my ass, and then I sat in the furniture section for a while and pondered buying a new table so I wouldn't have to keep stacking coloring books on top of the peanut butter jar in order to eat, and it occurred to me that if I took down my Christmas tree, which I've had up since the Before Times (having gotten it from in fact the same Walmart east of anywhere after all the rest in town were sold out of the particular model), then I would have a space along the back of the kitchen counter where I could hypothetically put a table.

So, because I am a sensible and moderate individual, I bought a thing of string to tie up the Christmas tree branches with, and did not buy a table yet. Then it was time for D&D, so I hurried home and put my vaccination card on the fridge and got into the voice chat and started taking down the Christmas tree.

Then it was five hours later, and I had started konmari-ing the whole apartment in order to have somewhere to store the Christmas tree, and I had discovered that my closet shelf was almost entirely full of empty cardboard boxes, so I had pulled all those out and rifled through them to make sure they didn't contain anything important, and after rescuing three cards from a friend and one glasses chamois, I stuffed most of the boxes in a trash bag, jammed the condensed Christmas tree and all the winter blankets and my air mattress and various other wintry things into the giant box my office chair came in, managed to get that giant box up onto the closet shelf (I have some soreness around my injection site but I honestly don't know if it's a side effect of the vaccination or a pulled muscle from wiggling a very large heavy box into a very tight space over my head), and moved the Goodwill oddities into a midsize box that I think I brought my workstation home in, but they just moved the remaining onsite agents into a much smaller room so I don't think I'm going to be asked to bring my workstation back for a while, and when I do go to bring it back I think the monitors will fit nicely in my washtub.

(I'm giving Goodwill my crockpot. After I forgot the garbanzos in it for three days until the chicken broth started to stink, I decided I am not a person who needs to own a crockpot. Also something like eight skeins of rather ugly yarn because I bought too much for the baby blankets I was making.)

(I'm not sure why I own a washtub. It's bright blue and plastic. It does have a use, which is to hand-wash my weighted blanket in occasionally, as of course you can't put twenty-odd pounds of glass baubles in a washing machine.)

(I certainly did make some life choices that led me here, did I not.)

Annnnyway, so now I have an almost empty three-drawer Rubbermaid dresser, an entirely empty and extremely large Rubbermaid tote (I'm pretty sure I could trap myself in there, but I haven't tried), a mostly empty square ottoman which is also a storage box, and a royal shitton of tiny things like office supplies and party favors that don't *go* anywhere.

"A place for everything" is the really hard part, you know. I achieved it once. Then I moved out of that apartment and have never achieved it again. Once things *have* places, then even if you don't have the spoons to put the peanut butter jar back in the pantry right *now*, you know it has a spot between the Hormel and the Chef Boyardee, and it's way easier than "oh god if I open the pantry there won't be any room and I'll wind up putting the peanut butter under the bathroom sink with the Johnnie Walker Black or maybe over the kitchen sink on top of the Thermacare back wraps."

(You're supposed to store whisky upright in a cool dark place, okay. None of the upper cabinet shelves are tall enough, so I could have put it either directly over the water heater or directly next to the oven. Instead it lurks behind the toilet paper, next to the Clorox wipes and the pre-pandemic Lush bath bomb, which I should... probably use at some point.)

Erm. So then I was pondering what-all storage I would need to source in order to begin having places in which to put things, *findable* places which is the real grail, and -- I think I took a pause to read Dreamwidth and someone linked me a plushie trilobite, okay. I haven't yet entirely decided whether to buy it, but it occurred to me that I definitely have no home for a plushie trilobite, any more than for the amazing Zaeed plushie currently trapped under my cross stitching or the Star Wars Build-a-Bear who was supposed to make Ewok noises until three weeks of freeze-thaw cycle in a malfunctioning package locker did for his electronic squeaker, or the poor American Girl doll languishing inside the ottoman.

So then I was like "we used to have that little net corner hammock for stuffed animals when I was a kid, we never could get it mounted right, but perhaps with fewer cooks that would be a good option". So I googled for one, and all I could find was an assortment of JUMBO five-or-six-foot-long double-deep toy hammocks, obviously necessary to keep your child from drowning in the flood of stuffed animals that have taken over beds in the past thirty years.

(Okay, I was pretty toy-deprived as a kid, the 1980s were not in general what you would call a time of less stuff in American households. Still. I have a twin bed. I can hardly even *find* a toy hammock that wouldn't be bigger than my bed in some dimension.)

So then, it being the aforementioned five hours later with a lot of D&D combined with hard physical labor in the middle, I said to myself, said I, "Hammocks are made out of net, and nets are made out of strings." And by god, if there is one thing I'm better at than another, it is making things out of string. I've never actually gotten around to trying out the whole process of making an actual fisherman's net, which is much more closely related to tatting than to knitting, but I have yarn and most of the possible knitting or crocheting supplies I would need to invent things.

Which, at long last, explains why I have paused to write this halfway through creating a triangular filet crochet toy hammock out of sparkly yellow yarn.

Joann's is having a 50% off sale on plastic storage whatsits tomorrow, but I think I'll probably spend a large part of the day putting office supplies into ziploc bags and hanging them in rows on the wall with pushpins so as to figure out what-all I in fact own.

#i feel like this probably needs at least a few warning tags #but i have no idea what those would be at this point

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travllingbunny · 4 years

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The 100 rewatch: 5x02 Red Queen

Note: I’m afraid that I’ll have to delay my review of 7x12 The Stranger a bit longer - maybe till Friday (because I’m busy with work, and I think that one may take a bit more time to finish), but in the meantime, here’s - finally - a continuation of my season 5 rewatch reviews. It happens to be the only seasons I haven’t covered yet - except for 5x01 Eden, which I rewatched a few months ago after 7x02 The Garden, because I wanted to compare the two. I was planned to do Red Queen right afterwards - it’s interesting to compare and contrast Octavia’s character transformations in season 5 and season 7 - but it didn’t pan out that way. But now, @jeanie205 and me have started another joint rewatch during the hiatus, this one of season 5. (She only saw it live, week to week, and hasn’t rewatched it yet, I binged it and this is my second rewatch.)

...............................

I’ve always thought of season 5 as a season with a really strong beginning - the first 3 or 4 episodes are fantastic - which drags a bit in the middle before ending a very strong two-part finale.. The 6-year jump, in terms of storytelling, had both good and bad results. These two opening episodes, Eden and Red Queen, really make the best out of the time jump, with flashbacks about Clarke surviving on her own on a desolated Earth and meeting Madi, and flashbacks of what happened to Wonkru in the bunker. It says a lot that we got half an episode of Clarke surviving on Earth, a full episode plus a bunch of flashbacks in 5x11 about the bunker... and nothing about the Ring (till that one flashback in season 7). It’s because the life on the Ring was so boring and uneventful that the show didn't care to show anything of those 6 years. Clarke’s peaceful life with Madi in Eden also happened off-screen - we only saw their first meeting and their later relationship in the present - but Clarke’s two months of terrible hardship got covered in amazing 20 minutes. But the bunker is where things were the most intense.

If the Ring seems to be just boring everyday life of 7 people who can’t go anywhere for 6 years, and if Clarke got to live in Eden (paradise) with Madi after the purgatory of 40 50+ days in the desert, the bunker is clearly Hell. It is a claustrophobic underground world full of anger, conflict and violence that certainly looks like Hell by the end of the episode.

The last scene, with its horror imagery, reminded me of the current Sanctum storyline in season 7 (both Blodreina and Sheidheda like using skulls as decoration), and the comparison shows exactly why the bunker/Blodreina story worked so well, and why the S7 Sanctum story does not. It’s all about moral ambiguity and keeping the audience on its toes, pulling the rug from under us by making us unsure how to feel about characters and their actions, which Red Queen does so well (and which S7 Sanctum storyline completely fails to do, being very predictable and black and white). Red Queen is so well done and intense that I don’t even mind that Clarke and Bellamy and some of my other favorites aren’t in it.

Timeline: The episode starts 42 days after Praimfaya and ends 46 days after Praimfaya.

The opening scenes take place at the same time when Clarke arrived in Polis and tried to open the door. Clarke's only listed as appearing in this episode because of this repeated scene from Eden. (It’s weird that apparently not just the Temple, but the Tower also apparently fell on the entrance. The Tower is next to the Temple, but I’m not sure if that would really happen?) I’m not sure what exactly caused the rubble to fall down, but this is the moment where everyone loses hope, since they know they probably can’t get out, even though they have 5 years to try to think of the solution.

Niylah has found a bunch of books and some other stuff in the bunker, and one of the books was Ovid’s Metamorphoses, which we now know was Callie Cadogan’s book. (That was a nice Easter Egg in 7x08.) Niylah knows Bellamy used to read to Octavia about Ancient Rome - she must have heard it from her or from Clarke or someone else in Arkadia over the last month or so that she spent with them. It is still surprising she knows about Ovid, specifically. What she doesn’t know when she gives Octavia the book is how symbolic it is of what happens to Octavia throughout this episode - her metamorphosis into Blodreina. (We even see the opening line on screen: “ I intend to speak of forms changed into new entities..”).

Octavia Blake is a character who has undergone more dramatic transformations than any other character on The 100. I wasn’t a big fan of her in some of the early seasons, but now I think that, after what the show has done with her since season 4, she has probably had the best character arc of any character on the show. (Some would say it’s Murphy, but that’s because people like to think of character development as going from bad to good, a positive progression - which is a lot more predictable and done quite often. What the show did with Octavia is much more complex and unexpected.) Her turn to the dark side and subsequent redemption were really well done, and Marie Avgeropoulos is one of the best actors on the show (I’ve always thought so regardless of how I felt about her character at any given time) and pulled off her changes in season 5 so well.

What the episode does really well is maintain ambiguity about Octavia’s development as a leader. The first time you watch it, it’s not clear what is she developing into. Is this a story about a well-meaning but still inexperienced teenage girl becoming a great leader? Well, the cliffhanger of 5x01 showed the fighting pits and the new scary Blodreina look, so it’s already hinted it’s not quite like that. But the episode still makes you root for Octavia, who’s up against not just the difficult circumstances - trapped in the bunker, limited resources - but also tribalism of Skaikru and 11 Grounder clans and a lot short-sighted people who hate and keep fighting each other. You just can’t not root for her when she starts forcing them to obey, near the end of the episode (and it’ certainly comes off as a very badass scene - if a bit unrealistic, since Octavia has only been training in Grounder-style combat for about 7-8 months at that point) - but then things may start getting a little ominous as she repeats the mantra “You are Wonkru, or you are the enemy of Wonkru. Choose!” (“You’re either with us, or against us” statements by political leaders are always worrying), even before the ending, where both Octavia and the bunker look like something out of a horror movie. This entire storyline made the point that unity can’t be forced on people, especially not by a single all-powerful leader, without turning into tyranny and oppression.

What’s also morally ambiguous is advice from the mortally wounded Jaha, which ends up influencing Octavia’s decisions and development as a leader. Jaha was always one of the most morally grey characters - he’s not evil, always had good intentions, but his ruthlessness and willingness to disregard individual lives in the name of the Big Picture of saving “his (collective) people” and his complete confidence that this is the right leadership style, were always very disturbing, and made him the villain in the eyes of - and the lives of - all the young protagonists of the show. In season 4, some of them started seeing his perspective. faced with the similar difficult choices. After Clarke in season 4, Octavia also starts seeing his perspective - which is particularly disturbing because it is the same man who executed her mother for just having a child, and locked her up for a year as a criminal just for being born. But Jaha’s actions in Red Queen are some of his most heroic ever in the show, and he gets a heroic death and a moving death scene... while still being kind of a real d1ck, someone who justifies Aurora’s execution to Octavia by saying her mother made herself “the enemy” and bringing them “closer to death”. In the context, Jaha as an unexpected mentor to Octavia can be seen as something good or at least a necessary for her to develop into a capable leader... Or is it? The line between hero and villain can be very thin. Sure, it helps Octavia resolve the situation, save hundreds of people in the bunker, and apparently unite everyone into Wonkru - but as we see by the end of the episode and the rest of the season, it also ends up making her a tyrant who ends up getting hundreds of her people killed in the name of saving “her people” and delivering them to paradise as a messiah. She becomes the same thing she hated, an oppressor like those who forced her to hide under the floor and killed her mother.

(This dialogue from season 4 is pretty relevant here:

Clarke: You know, he used to be everything that I hated. Maybe he was keeping us together.

Jasper: When Jaha's looking reasonable, it's time to reassess.)

I have to say, however, in spite of all the moral greyness... I can’t stand Kara Cooper. She’s one of the few characters on the show that just piss me off to no end and I can’t find any sympathy for her. I know that it’s different for others, I’ve seen people say they see her perspective, and yes, the show gives her a tragic backstory (losing her father in the Culling on the Ark and her husband in the Second Culling in 4x12)... but this time I can’t bring myself to care, because:

She wants to leave some 1100+ people to die, even though she should be well aware that, even if there is a problem of overpopulation in the bunker*, she really doesn’t have to kill that many people,

She’s a scientist and gives a speech about how the lack of diversity would lead to a massive die-off for plants... Surely she should know that the same would happen to the humans, and that a human race can’t survive with just around 80 people?! which leads me to

She doesn’t care about the survival of the human race and is ready to condemn it to extinction, just so she and a few others would live more comfortably and wouldn’t be in danger of immediate death,

She says she wants to save “her people” - but it’s all about tribalism (Skaikru or not Skaikru?) and not love, and she is a hypocrite, because she is ready to leave a bunch of Skaikru outside the door to die, too,

She is a hypocrite when she acts like Abby did something terrible by opening the bunker door to save Kane (which also saved hundreds of people more than would have otherwise been saved) - basically, she’s like “ Abby, how dare you not prioritize my husband, a guy you didn't even know, over your boyfriend? You're so terrible!" Sure. That makes sense.

Her arguments about why the bunker “belongs” to Skaikru are rubbish: “ "Jaha found it. It belonged to us" - even if we accept the finders-keepers idea, actually, multiple people helped find the bunker. Yes, Jaha was the driving force, but Bellamy found the coin, and Kane, Monty and Gaia all massively contributed to finding it - without Gaia's info they wouldn't have ever found it - as did Indra, and the fighters from Trikru and their allies who guarded the temple so they could do it. She just ignored all these facts. If they had kept the bunker in 4x11, they would have left most of these people out (including Kane and Monty). Oh, and she is now trying to take the bunker back... and she’s ready to leave Jaha himself outside!

And after all of that, she saves her own skin by being the most ruthless one of everyone Octavia sent to the fighting pit and killing them all - and then becomes Octavia’s right hand and sycophant. What integrity!

While many people seem to think that Octavia’s downfall started with the cannibalism during the Dark Year, I think it’s the decision at the end of Red Queen to open the fighting pits and start punishing every crime by throwing people in them. This is her first really bad decision. In practice, this form of “justice” means that you can commit any crime you want if you're good at killing people once you’re in the pit. it fosters a culture of violence - even more so when death matches are entertainment. So, in the end, the guy from Delphi clan who just stole blankets (the Sangedakru delegate Brell demanded death for that - their laws are pretty draconian, makes me wonder in retrospect if Sheidheda was the one who first imposed them) died, while Kara effing Cooper got to live because she was the most ruthless person there. What I think Octavia should have done is - she should have executed the murderers and the leaders of the rebellion and given minor punishments to people who did things like steal blankets. (it's been argued they needed Cooper for the farm - but that was not the reasoning, Octavia left her with everyone else to fight.)

This was Octavia, sadly, combining not the best, but the worst of the Ark system (death as the punishment for every crime or minor misdemeanor), Grounder tradition (death matches as the solution to everything) and her childhood stories of the Ancient Rome. If you're using Ancient Rome gladiator fights as your role model...you've probably stopped being a good guy.

The last scene, fighting pits 6 years later, is similar to the cliffhanger end of the previous episode, only now we get the cliffhanger of Kane being one of the fighters. Octavia is in her full Blodreina mode now. Not just her outward look has changed, but her facial expressions, too - this is the first time we see that cold, sinister Blodreina smile. Indra doesn’t look too happy, Gaia and Ethan are there. Miller- even after that much time - doesn’t look too happy with Cooper being there, by Octavia's side.

This is straight up horror imagery. There is even some sort of structure made of skulls next to where she's sitting! Not exactly a throne of skulls like Sheidheda has in season 7 but something similar.

But here’s why this works so differently than Sheidheda and his throne of skulls in season 7 and why people are bored by the latter. There is no ambiguity in the S7 Sanctum story. Sheiheda is completely, cartoonishly evil, there is nothing complex about it, Murphy is now definitely a good guy, as are Emori and Indra, and none of them are in conflict about how to deal with him (except for a short moment in 7x09, which was OOC for Indra). The only characters that we may still wonder 'what are they gonna do? which side will they take?" are minor, underdeveloped characters like Nikki, or Knight (you're in trouble when your main question is "will Knight change sides?"). It's a very simple black and white story, the kind t100 normally doesn't do and Shady’s throne of . But when Octavia has her face painted in blood, has skulls next to her, and a creepy smile while she’s deciding the fate of the winner, that is genuinely disturbing because it's Octavia. You’ve followed her for seasons, and you’ve spent the whole episode rooting for her to solve the problems and deal with those really awful and annoying people... and then she does, and oh my god, suddenly she turns into a villain, and that’s chilling.

Other observations:

I love the Kabby scene where they're talking while chained up in the farm, while a guy is playing guitar in the background. I think Abby was pretty unfair to Kane when she said he took away her choice to kill herself - because she didn’t try to kill herself, she tried to make Kane kill her, and then she expected him to be able to do it, even though she never could: not only did she open the bunker door to save Kane, she destroyed the radiation chamber (possibly dooming thousands of people) because she couldn’t allow Clarke to risk her life (in 4x08). Kane may be more of a “Head” than “Heart” of the two of them, but Abby should have realized he wouldn’t be able to carry her unconscious body (or even let someone else do it) and let her die of radiation. He loves her and he doesn’t really have anyone else. Abby really seemed to be taking out her own self-loathing out on him. It was still a sweet moment when he finally dropped the pretense that he saved her for being a doctor and admitted it was a Heart decision, and she finally admitted she would do the same and never regretted opening the bunker door to save him.

But we get a hint about that Abby has already developed a pill addiction, which will strain and almost destroy their relationship. Kabby was a really well written relationship - we saw them falling in love over 4 seasons (which rarely happens with romantic relationships on this show) - but then we also saw that being together and loving each other is not enough to be “happy ever after”, not when you live in f*cked up circumstances and when you both have to deal with all sorts of problems. Love can’t conquer everything, which is more realistic way to depict romance.

Mackson actually have some screentime in this episode. This is actually the first time we see that they are together (after a brief flirting scene in season 4). I had forgotten that Miller says the L word in this episode: "You're a healer, nor a fighter. That's why I love you.” I thought “This was pretty fast” - but when you take into account they’ve been together for a couple of months, it’s actually not that fast compared to most of the romances on the show... It’ just that most of their relationships happens off-screen.

So Level C (which Cooper and her people took over) was where Cadogan planned to be with his family if the rest of the bunker goes to hell. Makes sense he’d do something like that.

Indra was already not a fan of the Commanders at this point, telling Gaia: "Your real Commanders would have left you to burn", "the spirits of the Commanders have abandoned us"

We got two Wells mentions in this episode! One when Jaha was reading a children’s book (apparently The Giving Tree - thanks @jeanie205) to Ethan, and says it was his son's favorite bedtime story, and another one when Jaha is dying and says “Take me to my wife. Take me to Wells”.

ALIE would be proud of these people: they all keep repeating “There are too many people in this bunker” throughout the episode. Thanos would be proud of them, too. Why not instead say: “There aren’t enough resources in this bunker”? No worries then, they will manage to get 1/3 of those people killed - 814 will remain instead of 1200 by the time they get out of the bunker... What few characters in the show ever seem to realize are too few people for the human race to survive. That is, if they weren't lucky to always be running into more humans, and then everyone blows it away by killing each other, again.

A few lines in this episode feel like dark foreshadowing:

Abby makes the first mention of cannibalism, a dark period in Ark’s history called the “Blight"

"It won't be that easy", says Octavia to Cooper when Cooper wanted to kill herself. One could say the same when Octavia tried to sacrifice herself and die in 5x12

"I'll take care of the boy” - Octavia promises to Jaha to take care of little Ethan, just as Jaha promised to Ethan’s father. That didn't turn out so well in the end...

Rating: 9/10

#the 100 #the 100 rewatch #the 100 5x02 #red queen #the 100 season 5 #octavia blake #blodreina #thelonius jaha #marcus kane #abby griffin #kabby #anti kara cooper #indra kom trikru #indra #wonkru #mackson #nate miller

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trickkombowerskru · 4 years

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Baby Mama-Reddie X Surrogate! Reader Imagine

Request: Anonymous: Hiii could you maybe do a hc or imagine either is fine where Richie and Eddie (it ch 2) are married and they want a baby so they ask the reader who’s best friend with both of them to be their surrogate and she says yesand after that babies born they ask reader to be godmother! If you don’t wanna that’s fine thanks

A/N: A bit of an auish where Eddie is actually a doctor also, the name I chose is an Easter egg to my babe @hellsgrove and her great story of them adopting a kid it’s so cute go read it here!

Warnings: None

Tonight felt great you were out to dinner with your best friends, who do to your busy schedules you hadn't seen in a while. You with just your higher up position at the office in general, Eddie at the hospital, and Richie with his most recent tour finishing up.

It was nice when the three of you had some downtime to just relax and joke around, even if the restaurant they had chosen for then night was on the fancier side.

And when they had told you they wanted to ask you something, also do to the restaurant choice you assumed it was important, and you always made sure to listen to your friends concerns.

You were about half way through the dinner when Richie puts his fork down and sighs."I can't take it anymore Eds can we tell her?"

Eddie rolled his eyes at the nickname, considering he married this asshole he knew he'd have to deal with it for life at this point. After that he also nods allowing Richie to start whatever their proposition would be.

"Okay so we've been talking about this a lot and really trying to think it through so-," he gets cut off by Eddie chiming in.

"And you could totally say no, it'd be okay and we would understand."

"Yeah we would. Okay so we really want to start a family, and we considered all of our options, and thought that we would...,"

Richie freezes for a minute, a rare sight, which made you tell he was very nervous about everything, Eddie sense that and takes over.

"We wanted to ask you if you would be our surrogate? We know it sounds crazy and out of the blue, but we really did think of all of our options over, and when we decided on having a surrogate we knew we wanted someone we trust more than anything, rather than interviewing a bunch of candidates, and both our minds automatically went to you."

You were stunned by their offer.

"Well I um-"

"You don't have to answer tonight if you don't want to. Take as much time as you need," Richie adds.

"I just have some questions. First off whose....ya know....is going to be used?"

"Mine," Eddie answers.

"Yeah we talked about it and like the fewer kids that have my genes the better. They'd be too beautiful, but also blind as shit" Richie remarks, making Eddie roll his eyes again.

"Plus I mean we both have dark And dark eyes so it would look a bit like both of us in some way," he finishes.

You just nod, really trying to think about it. You wanted to support them you did, but at the same time it was such a huge commitment, and a life changing one at that.

On the other hand, it also warmed your hear that you were both of their automatic thoughts for something like this.Sorting through everything quickly in your mind as you wanted to give them an answer tonight, you weighed out the pros and cons and then decided.

"I'll do it."

"You will?," Richie asks, both their faces lighting up.

"Yes. I love you guys and after all you've done for me it's the least I could do for you."They each hugged you, thanking you so much for this.

Boy did you have no idea what you would be in for.

When Richie and Eddie proposed the the idea to you, it was clear you were definitely nervous about the whole thing, but now however 4 months into your pregnancy, you couldn't have been happier to have said yes.

You did always want kids, and while this child wasn't exactly yours you knew that the guys would let you babysit them and see them enough to where you would still have a bond.

Your body wasn't the only thing that changed either -which was already showing a lot-, of course since you had a relatively normal life compared to Richie when the news was announced the press was all over it.

You had an immense gain in followers across both Twitter and Instagram, along with having to go with the guys to events, or at least as many as you could for pictures next to the guys with their hands on your belly and what not.

You even had a camera man or two stop you in the past few months on the street. While it was all very overwhelming, you understood that "celebrity baby" news was big.

They also stayed outside your apartment sometimes for shots of Richie or Eddie when they came over with whatever you happened to be craving that day.

While Richie came over a lot, Eddie was at your place nearly everyday giving you vitamins and supplements to make sure the baby would be more than healthy.

They also accompanied you during each hospital visit, only time they didn't come in was during the appointment where you could find out the gender, them both wanting it to be a surprise.

As it went on the next few months, if you thought the middle of your pregnancy was tough, the near end of it was like torture.

Now at 7 months you were more than showing, and if you didn't know any better you would think that you were pregnant with twins, although the doctor assured you that was not the case.

"Hey mama," Richie greets as you enter their place.

"Hey."

"How you feeling?"

"Good. Good. Ah!"

"What?! What's wrong?!"

"Nothing the baby just kicked."

"Really?", he asks with a spark in his eyes

"Yeah. This kid is definitely a mix of you and Eddie with how feisty they are."

"We picked names today."

"Really? What are you thinking?"

"If it's a boy Toby and if it's a girl Rachel," he smiles.

"Those are nice."

"Took us forever to settle on ones we both liked. If it was a boy Eddie wanted to name him Xavier or Graham like do you know a kid named either of those names that doesn't get the shit kicked out of him?"

You laugh.

"Can't say I do. Then again I don't know many kids in general so who am I to judge?"

He shrugs and asks if you want anything, for the moment you decline and then just talk about all kinds of stuff they have started getting a few things for a nursery, Ben having built them a great quality crib for the baby.

The closer it got the more excited and on edge they seemed.Time flew by and soon enough it was time for this baby to get out of your body.

You had pretty much lived with the guys these past few days as the baby was ready to come out any second. And it chose today when this morning shortly after waking up, your water broke.

After rushing you to the hospital, came so many hours of labor.Richie was trying to lighten the mood with some jokes, but they were doing anything except helping.

"Richie I'm in immense pain and about to be split in half by your child so if you don't shut the fuck up I will punch you in the dick so hard, it will make it impossible for you to have another one."

He threw up his hands in surrender and looked at Eddie terrified.Soon enough it was time, after a whole lot of pushing, their baby was born.

"It's a girl!" the doctor announced.

"She's beautiful," you say holding her.

"Welcome to the world Rachel Kaspbrak-Tozier," you coo as you rock her.

"Eddie she has your eyes, and the mix of our noses kinda makes hers look like yours Rich."

"Thank you so much for all of this Y/N," Richie says.

"Seriously we couldn't have had a better mom for her, but we have one more thing to ask."

"What is it?"

"For doing all of this, and putting up with us during it, and everything else would you be her God Mother?"

You started to tear up, and unlike their initial question of them asking you to be their surrogate no thought was needed here.

"Yes. Oh my god you guys of course."

Shortly after everything you moved out of your old apartment complex and into theirs, that way your little family could be even closer and so you could watch Rachel grow up.

Honestly for as much as they panicked Richie and Eddie made great dads, and as you had thought you were the number one babysitting option when they needed it.

She adored you and it warmed your heart that you actually got to have an even stronger bond with her than expected.

#it chapter 2 #richie tozier #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier x eddie kaspbrak #bill hader #eddie kaspbrak #eddie kaspbrak x reader #eddie kaspbrak x richie tozier #james ransone #reddie #reddie imagine #reddie x reader

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seeksstaronmewni · 4 years

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Samurai Jack Season 5 in Review: EPISODE XCVI

Things can change greatly when one is open enough to see the truth.

As the episode’s TV spot promoted (as with earlier TV spots for the season in general), it’s time for the Scotsman episode of Season 5! Enough said.

NOW, as the Scotsman proclaimed, “NOW we... CHAAAAAAAAAAAAARGE!!!!!”

This’s the first episode in Season 5 to be rated TV-PG-V (for “moderate” violence), although it’s not really that violent. It clearly could be TV-Y7-FV, but I guess that Cartoon Network is concerned about easily imitable violence such as kicking and punching (unlike Disney Channel/Disney XD), so it may never be TV-Y7 again.

NOTE: Obviously, I started working on this post on Memorial Day of 2020 in honor of our dear Scotsman. Anyway, I’m curious as to what was going on with the Scotsman’s family and what they were plotting, during the time that we’re focusing on Jack and Ashi... but we still have 40 episodes to come until the series is complete. I was too busy or lazy to finish the post before the end of the day or month (for that matter, I was mostly inactive on it for 6 months), but I’m slowly back on it, so WACH’OUT!

We start with Aku’s place... which appears much more barren than it was in EPISODE I. The episode is another Andrews-Tartakovsky duo-boarding. Just the sound of wind, but no mist full of demons for some reason. Perhaps some bombing or missile attack cleared Aku’s yard?

A tank rolls over to the edge of Aku’s yard. A soldier within signals the other tanks to advance with his horn. These tanks are designed by the late and great Chris Reccardi and @heydusty.

The camera streaks further back to reveal another army of men riding a 20-legged, rhino-like creature, in armor similar to the exterior of the tanks. He signals his army with his horn, too.

How about another army, then?

Signaled by a woman with her bagpipes, she leads her army...

a whole army of women

Talk about girl power... compared to The Powerpuff Girls, which stopped in 2019 and wasn’t nostalgically correct enough for the last 3 seasons anyway.

Whichever one I find most attractive all depends on which hairstyle looks most attractive... like the one in the bottom right corner. Aside from that, they pretty much all look and sound the same.

The sound of wheels grows audible. Who is that man in the wheelchair?

He has a machine gun for his left leg. Slowly, the camera, defocused except on his leg, eases out.

“Ha ha! We found him!”

It is, indeed, the Scotsman. The hype-inducing Scotsman!

And he’s pretty much ready to fight!

Well... except for one thing...

“I take you out for a day of battle, and you’re dressed like you’re goin’ dancin’!”

She’s kind of bashful. Isn’t she, Scotsman?

Flora was apparently out of appropriate uniform... not that it’s the time for dancing, or dance-fighting, however they intended to take Aku down face-to-face. She looks kind of hot, but this’s not the time to be thinking about fashion or a sultry appearance.

“That goes for all of you.”

“Cover yourself!” the Scotsman yells; “You’ll catch your death of cold!” He definitely cares about his daughters--I know not how many he has, but it’s an army’s worth--but I don’t think that they’re really cold at all.

What season is it, anyway?

(Oh, and, for the shot above, Flora has tiny dot eyes X3)

“Now”, the Scotsman proclaims, “we... CHAAAAAAAAAAAAARGE!”

“EYAAAAHHHHH” he shouts excitedly, as Flora drives him into battle.

The Scotsman’s army rolls into battle, firing with some nicely-colored smoke.

*p-powaa-p-p-powaa-powaa-p-powaa-aa*

Yep. There’s that more familiar Universal/Hanna-Barbera explosion, like one would hear in Seasons 1-6 of The Powerpuff Girls, serving as the sole sound effect for this shot and repeating itself. Joel Valentine’s uses of these classic explosions are probably different from those on Sound Ideas’ Universal & H-B sound libraries as these’re cleaner in quality.

The armored creatures apparently shoot some pretty hot snot out of their trunks, leaving us to wonder what this particular animal ultimately is. That classic Anime whistle (kind of sounds like “SHELL SCREAMING WHINE DOWN”) becomes audible as the bunch of hot snot falls toward Aku’s place.

“It seems we are under attack”, Aku overhears. “Under attack?” Aku highlights, beginning to consider use for this opportunity as he slowly stretches his beard. Aku takes a peek at the war through his own kind of TV or something. “Perhaps annihilating this scum will break me out of my...

me-lai-i-i-i-i-se.” Aku streak immediately upward.

Meanwhile, the Scotsman was firing HIS LEG gun... (footage that the last TV spot advertised for the coming of Season 5 in March, well before this episode itself was advertised, also showing the same footage)

Not sure at what HIS LEG gun was firing, since Aku wasn’t out, until...

*bwssss! wb-wb-wb-wb!*

...Aku rockets out of his place...

...trailing blazing fire as he turns into a giant ball...

...bowling his way over all of the tanks. The armored creatures on which 1/3 of the army rides are next!

“You know what?” The Scotsman said, come to his senses. “This was a bad idea! Time to go, girls.” Protective of his many daughters, the Scotsman knew what to do in such a disastrous moment: “I’ll stall him while you escape.”

“I’m sorry, old man; I think you are lost.”

Just as Aku was about to make the annihilation complete, a voice froze him: “Hold it! You’re not goin’ anywhere, you big buffoon”. Not knowing who this guy was at all, Aku looked down upon him... and he seemed pretty serious, even though he met not this guy before at all.

“The samurai is still out there, inspirin’ people by the thousands!”

“I ain’t lost, y’ tree ogre!” The Scotsman talked back, pushing his insults further and further. “After all these years, you’re powerless against him... afraid to show yourself ‘cause you know he’s out there, and you can’t do anything about it!”

“Ah ha ha! You’re just a big baby! Why don’t you go cry to your mama--”

Aku was not in the mood for being “roasted”.

*wshiiiiiing*

A third of a sword flung out of the explosion.

Aku burned him.

*psst*

Aku burned him good.

Those catchlight-y eyes don’t lie, Flora.

OK; “highlights” would be the more common term.

This’s why I began writing this post on Memorial Day 2020.

When you roast Aku, Aku roasts you back.

“Why did he bring, up, the samurai?”

A relative question: If Aku cares no longer, what else has Aku to do with his life? Must he be evil? Some centuries worth since he started ruling... I guess that the Scotsman was just trying to make Aku upset, when he could speak a better conversation than mostly insult him.

Flora stabs the remainder of the sword into the ground by his ashes. There is some inscription on it that should be interesting to decode. I wonder if there’s an Easter egg in its words...

“I be back--and in me prime, no less!”

BOOM! Souls don’t die! Of course, rather than probably being in Heaven, he’s more of a ghost who’s still able and willing... by Celtic magic, which apparently connects to the inscription on his very sacred sword. “We’ll find Jack” he plots, “and finally defeat that BIG BABY!”

Anyways... one night, probably very far away from wherever Aku’s place is, Ashi was doing some thinking.

She grew up with her mom, who claimed that Aku created everything, but now she met Jack, who told her that Aku had the world ravaged.

Ashi was raised to believe that “The samurai is the poison killing the land”... as if Aku even cared at that point; she never even met Aku. Jack’s wisdom begat conflict in her mind: “If you... let go of (your) hate, you will see the truth.”

At least it’s an otherwise peacful night.

Well. It was.

“I have questions, mother.”

Ashi began to hallucinate (or it was some kind of weird fever dream... I know not) as the moon turned into her mother’s mask. “The samurai sleeps”, she slips through her mouth. “Kill him in his slumber before he wakes!”

“How DARE you?!”

I suppose this’s what comes of wishing for the moon.

Ashi was not ready to act on instinct as this samurai saved her life, but her vision was merciless. She had questions (and had the... moon failed??? Well not the moon, just her mom), and frankly one could question if she or her mother knew who exactly the samurai was and what he looked like. She was apparently secluded from the rest of society and we know little of her life growing up, so of course she’d have questions.

From there, that very island, Ashi’s journey began, and the next morning Jack found a sea dragon to continue the journey.

Although the dolphin chirps act as a faint, echo-y sound in the scene, they stand out as more unique recording than the stereotypical Hollywood Edge recordings one would hear pretty much everywhere else, like in Spongebob or whatever.

The sea dragon submerges into the ocean and makes a giant leap into the sky! Not sure why, but it probably got them closer to land.

ANIME LINES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It might not seem too noticeable, but the animation right here looks a bit... tight/slow-paced or whatever. Korean animation’s been thinning out on ln-betweens since, like 2016 for some reason, but they still put more effort on this Cartoon Network Studios project than most right now.

“I shall not forget your kindness.”

The sea dragon gives him a snort and a roar of... gratitude?

Jack and Ashi finally made it to a bigger land (and probably not just a bigger island). Now where would they go from here?

“Goodbye.”

It looks like Jack was just going to part ways.

I’ll continue working on this post later, preferably/almost daily if not weekly. (I’ve just been very slow mentally and more autistic this year than I ever realized)

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d0gdaze · 5 years

Text

The body swap au a surprising amount of people asked for, actually.

Read on AO3 / Summary

Pairings: Eddie Kaspbrak / Richie Tozier

Warnings: swearing, sexual references

Chapter 9/?

Prev | Next

Word Count: 4490

Eddie’s playlist

_______________________________________________________________________

Do no harm, but take no crap.

His father had said that to him once when he was fourteen, over the kitchen table with a mouthful of scrambled egg. It was a rare week when both of his parents had been present for breakfast every single day, and Richie was striving to fit as much conversation and banter in with them as he could before his lucky streak ended. That morning, while Maggie sat sipping her coffee and idly perusing the lifestyle section of a home and garden magazine, he was trying to build up a decent back and forth with Wentworth. It started with Richie talking about the previous afternoon's Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles episode – well, it was more of a scene by scene reenactment –, and Went had soon tried to redirect the subject to school, and grades, and stuff Richie didn't feel much like talking about but he took the hint and indulged it anyway. After a while, his mother made an offhand comment about 'the nice boy next door,' and if 'you two were getting along yet', and he had groaned over-dramatically and made a show of face-planting into the table.

At that point, the Kaspbrak's had only lived there for a little over a month, and the only interactions he'd had with Eddie since their arrival had been brief and unpleasant.

“Pardon my french, ma, but that kid's an asshole,” he'd told her, then shovelled a heaped spoon of lucky charms into his mouth. Maggie had tsked, glancing up at Went and shaking her head before turning back to Richie.

“I don't think he has any friends, Rich,” she'd said, taking another sip from her mug, “I talked to his mother and she's-” she paused, thinking over her words for a moment, then sighed, “I'm sure he'll warm up to you soon.”

Richie had started to argue, but his father had cleared his throat and shot him a look that stopped him in his tracks.

“Do no harm, kiddo,” Went had said then, “but take no crap. From any of 'em. You remember that.”

Richie wasn't going to ask what that meant, but he'd nodded and given his dad a salute and a barking 'Yes Sir!', and Went had finished his food, pushed his chair back from the table and rinsed off his plate in the sink.

Now, Richie wasn't keeping extensive track of what harm he might be doing, but he sure as hell was taking a lot of crap lately.

After Eddie had taken a few tugs on the ol' lung sucker and calmed down enough to be reasoned with – calm by his standards, at least –, Richie could focus his attention on more important matters.

“What the fuck did you do to my hair?” he asked, really noticing for the first time how flat it looked. It was all slicked back out of his face, emphasising assets that Richie wasn't too keen about showing off, and oh, yeah he could smell the hairspray now. He reached up, attempting to dislodge a few curls and restore some volume, but didn't get very far before his hand was being slapped away.

“I couldn't stand it, dude!” Eddie whisper-yelled, re-smoothing it back down, “It was like, getting in my eyes and my mouth and shit – do you know how many kids here probably have lice?”

“You know that's a myth, right?”

Eddie blinked at him, for an extended moment, his mouth gaping in a goldfish-like fashion.

“Wh- LICE?” he actual-yelled now, his voice cracking, and man, his eyes were fucking huge in those glasses. How did anyone ever take him seriously?

(Sidenote: they didn't.)

Well, he thought, yeah. Lice were one of those things that your parents used to scare you into combing your hair every day. Didn't anyone ever tell you that, Eds? Jeez, next you're gonna tell me you still believe in the Easter Bunny, or cavities.

Instead of saying any of this out loud, though, he reached up again to try and tousle the uniformity out of his hair, only to receive another slap.

“Would you quit it?” Eddie berated, huffing and looking at least a little more dishevelled, before fumbling again for his aspirator and taking another pull.

“How'd you do this, anyway?” Richie asked, rubbing his thumb and index finger together and inspecting the oily substance they were now covered in. “I didn't think I had any hair stuff.”

He looked up, and Eddie averted his eyes, a slight tint starting to fill in his cheeks.

“I found some,” he said, shrugging in an attempt to appear inconspicuous and failing tremendously. Richie's eyes narrowed.

“Where?” he asked, – he highly doubted the boy was into midnight runs down to the corner store to pick up styling gel. At least, he hoped that wasn't the case, because holy shit, priorities.

“Why do you even care, anyway?” Eddie asked, “Not like you're the one getting your head slammed into walls now. And what's with that, by the way?”

“You're dodging the question because you did something weird, didn't you?” Richie watched him roll his eyes and grit his teeth before eyeing the door, but Richie was blocking his path and there was no way in hell he was letting this go until he got an answer.

What's one more absent mark, right?

“Come on, what was it?” he pushed, studying with intent the annoyed, flustered look Eddie was providing him. “You got hand lotion up in there? Bacon grease, maybe?” He sniffed his fingers, then wrinkled his nose. “Did you use your own spunk or somethin'?”

“Oh my god,” Eddie looked honest-to-god nauseas at this point, “please stop talking.”

“You did, didn't you? Kaspbrak, that is absolutely dees-gus-”

“It's fucking hair gel, okay! It's not-” His breathing was picking up again, and he had to close his eyes for a minute to recollect himself. He shook his aspirator, finger ready on the trigger, but he didn't use it. “I really needed to pee, and I tried to go in your bathroom, Rich, but there was mould on the shower curtain and there's been this really bad smell in there since last night and then the window wouldn't open this time and your toilet's like, directly opposite the mirror so I would have to look at myself – at you? Fuck, I just- I couldn't do it so I went into your parents room and I used their en-suite and it was just sitting on the sink and they were already both downstairs so I borrowed some.” He was talking a mile a minute, and he had to pause to catch his breath. “I didn't think I would be interrogated about it, so I'm sorry. But- spunk? Are you fucking twelve? Also I really think you should clean your bathroom. I could have snapped one of those washcloths in half.”

A moment passed before Richie responded, trying to absorb the run-on he'd just heard.

“You sit down to piss?” he asked, and Eddie went as red as a goddamn tomato.

“That's what you took away from that?!” he shrieked. Richie shrugged, throwing his hands up in a defensive gesture. “Yowza, just seems weird, is all,” he laughed, somewhat nervously. “Thought the ability to stand up while taking a wizz was like, one of the main benefits of having a d-”

“I didn't want to touch it,” Eddie interrupted, then swallowed. He was picking at the cuticle on his left thumb – it was bleeding, and Richie just now noticed the bright green bandaid wrapped around the other one. “And I don't want to talk about it, either.” “You wound me,” Richie said, with faux sincerity, hitting his chest with his fist, “right here. And, down there,” he pointed downwards with his other hand, and Eddie rolled his eyes again, even harder this time.

“I'm walking away from you now,” he said, and then did. He pushed the door open with his elbow and it swung shut behind him.

“You're welcome, by the way!” Richie called out after him, but he didn't get a response even though the fucker definitely must have heard him. “Not like I saved your life or anything. Dickhead.”

He let himself stew there for a while, occasionally kicking the wall or muttering obscenities, until the odour coming from one of the stalls finally became too much to handle and he figured he should at least try and go to class, – although, he'd completely forgotten to ask about Eddie's schedule, and he was now coming to the realisation that he hadn't given him his, either. He also knew there was a good chance Eddie had realised this too, and was just being way too stubborn to come find him and get it.

So, throwing that plan aside, he decided to enact his fallback. A plan that, while not being particularly helpful, may help him even out the playing field in regards to doing harm versus taking crap.

He made his way towards the art rooms, the idea gradually unfolding and building in front of him. In reality, it wouldn't end up being the mind-blowing game changer he was hyping himself up for, but it would surely scratch the itch.

Pulling up to the studios, and completely disregarding the fact that there was a class in progress to which he was now causing disruption, he scanned the room until he found who he was looking for.

Skirting the edge of the classroom, nearly knocking over several large canvases that had been leaned against the walls, as well as a drying rack displaying a few half-painted clay products and a large paper maché sculpture that Anne Anderson had been working on for a month now and still didn't resemble anything he'd ever seen before, he made his way over to the corner where Bill was situated. He was perched on a stool, mostly concealed from view by the canvas he had set up on his easel, but the top of his head was visible down to his brow, and the contrast of the blonde and red in his hair had imprinted on Richie enough to allow instant recognition.

“Eh-Eddie?” Bill startled as he approached, having been very focused on his painting. “Wh-wuh-what are y-you doing? I th-thuh-thought y-you w-w-were going to th-th-th-th-”

“Well gee,” Richie cut him off, smiling all too enthusiastically, “I just came to see my best pal and confidant Bill Dens-” he trailed off, was it Denson? That didn't sound right. Maybe Dan- no, it definitely started with Den. He sucked his teeth, wracking his brain for the correct information, and went to adjust his glasses only to smack the side of his face in their absence. Bill looked at him like he had two heads.

“So we're good friends, right?” Richie continued, waving off his bewildered expression. “Would you say we have a 'help each other with anything, no questions asked' kind of relationship?”

“Wh-why?” Bill leaned back slightly on the stool, cautiously putting a few extra inches between them.

“Because I need your help with something and I don't want you to ask any questions,” he said, watching something like alarm and or fear flicker in Bill's eyes. He leaned forward again, throwing a hasty glance around the room while pulling Richie in by his shoulder.

“Eddie did y-you fuh-ucking kill R-Richie?” he whispered, panicked.

“Woah, easy up cowboy,” Richie snickered, shrugging his hand off and straightening himself again, “how'd you jump to that conclusion?”

Bill didn't appear to ease up, only stared at him cautiously.

“Y-y-you t-talk about killing h-h-him a l-lot,” he said, then looked Richie up and down, “and y-y-you look kinda cr-crazy r-ruh-right now.”

Richie glanced down at himself. His shirt was half tucked into his jeans and he was, in fact, wearing two different coloured shoes. He hummed in acknowledgement, then looked back up.

“I promise that I have not committed murder,” he said, holding up three fingers in a scout salute. A little of the tension in Bill's shoulders seemed to release, but not much. “Whatcha paintin' anyway?”

Richie moved around until he was standing behind Bill, getting a straight-on view of the canvas, and let's out a low whistle. Because it had, you know, actually good. Better than anything he'd ever made in class, anyway. It also was not the pile of rocks sitting on a table at the front of the room that every other student was trying to recreate. He'd gone off book – a portrait, the central focus made up of bright, warm hues, standing out amazingly against the dark blue and purple floral arrangements scattered around the border. It had, like, actual depth and lighting and whatever the fuck else professional art terms Richie didn't pretend to understand. And, oh shit, that looked just like-

“Beverly?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at Bill, and watched him sputter, the tips of his ears turning pink.

“N-n-no,” he insisted, loudly, “i-i-i-it's n-n-n-n-nuh-n-not, I-”

Richie let out a honk of a laugh, patting him on the back.

“You are a riot, Billiam, we should totally hang out sometime.”

And before Bill could even begin to process what the ever-loving fuck is going on, Richie was pulling him to his feet, thrusting his backpack into his arms and leading him through the class room and out the door.

Bill, in the seemingly countless years he'd been friends with Eddie, had learned that sometimes it was better to just go with it. Truthfully, if it had turned out that Eddie finally did snap, and Richie Tozier was in fact lying lifeless on the floor of the boys bathroom, he wouldn't have been overly surprised. Sure, he might cry. Puke, maybe. Make a note to give him a stern talking to about why killing people is wrong, even if you don't like them very much. But at the end of the day, he'd help hide the body, and help create an alibi, and whatever else he needed to do. Because it was Eddie, – Bill would do all that and more, because he knew if the roles were reversed, Eddie would do the same for him.

So he let himself get dragged down an empty hallway, and he didn't ask too many questions about it. He figured the boy was only going through yet another manic episode, brought on by the upcoming track qualifiers or something his mother did or, more likely, something Tozier did. Jesus, there were days when Eddie talked about little else, and Bill suspected there were many more where he thought of nothing but.

There was always something, and increasingly so in the recent months. It was all 'Richie drew a dick on my window last night!' or 'Richie made fun of my height again!' or 'have you seen Richie today? He's wearing a hat and it's pissing me off!' or 'Richie looked at me funny in English so I'm gonna yell at him later!' and fuck, Bill really tried to be supportive, but sometimes he just wanted to lock them in the janitors closet together and give the rest of the world some peace. It's not like he didn't want to sympathise with every little complaint and annoyance that seemed to plague his friend's mind day in and day out, but he couldn't help but think, sometimes, that a lot of Eddie's mountains were actually molehills.

And, he'd never dare say it to Eddie, but Richie didn't seem all that bad. He shared a few classes with the guy, and sure he made some crass comments, smelled like an ashtray, and spent every single art class drawing dicks on any blank surface placed in front of him, but he wasn't outright awful. His friend's were nice too – Stan and Mike and Beverly Marsh – and Bill thought, if they all liked Richie Tozier as much as they appeared to, then he couldn't be as much of a terror as he'd been made out to be.

Hell, he reckoned that in another life, they'd probably all get along pretty nicely as a group of seven.

He followed Eddie into the bathroom, stood aside and waited for him to check that all the stalls were empty and lock the door, then watched him pull a large pair of kitchen scissors out of his backpack. Bill's initial reaction was knocked out of him, though, when Eddie then proceeded to start unbuttoning his jeans.

A strangled noise rose up from his throat, he could already feel the barricades forming on his tongue. He just gaped, rendered speechless in more ways than one.

“Fuck is you gawkin' at?” Eddie said in some undecipherable accent, looking up at Bill with the waistband of his pants hugging his thighs. Then he smiled, winked, held the scissors out in his direction – he took them, with hesitancy –, and pulled his pants the rest of the way down before stumbling out of them without taking his shoes off.

Bill suddenly wished he'd walked into a bloody crime scene instead. At least that would have made sense.

“Eds!” His words finally caught up to him, and he sucked in a gasping breath, immediately regretting it because the air tasted like stale piss. “W-w-w-wuh-what the f-f-fuck?”

“What?” Eddie laughed, holding the offending item of clothing out in front of him with both hands, as if inspecting them, before throwing them over his shoulder. “No boy's ever taken his pants off for you before?”

Christ, Bill thought, he's completely lost it. Next week I'm gonna be visiting him up at Juniper.

“Pass me those, will ya?” Eddie made a grabby motion at the tool in Bill's hand; he instinctively started to hand them over, then pulled them back.

“W-what are y-yuh-you gonna d-do w-w-w-with them?” he asked, his voice shaking terribly even with the stutter.

“We're gonna turn these here lame-ass pantaloons into something worth looking at, Billy boy,” Eddie replied. Bill continued to stare, addled and bewildered. When he left class he'd prepared himself for something illogical, another breakdown that ended with the two of them ditching until lunch so Eddie could vent his frustrations and scream into his fist. But this, whatever it was, was more than he would ever be able to brace himself for.

He shook his head, holding his hands out in a manner that he hoped said 'I have no idea what the fuck you're talking about, and it's nine thirty in the fucking morning,' because he was sure he wouldn't be able to say it out loud. Eddie sighed, yanking the scissors out of Bill's hand by the blades, and if that wasn't an indication that something was very wrong, then Bill didn't know what was.

“Aren't you, like, usually all over this shit?” Eddie asked, gesturing down to Bill's legs, clad in black jeans that were, as his parent's and teacher's had often chastised him for, ripped to shit, and Bill's brain whirred loudly for a minute before he thought he'd almost caught on.

“Y-y-you w-w-w-want me to h-huh-help y-you cut h-holes in y-y-your pants?” He guessed, and Eddie grinned, tilting his chin up slightly. “H-here? I-i-in the b-bathroom?”

“Would've been real fucking weird if I stripped down in the cafeteria,” Eddie said, and – well, Bill couldn't argue with that.

So, he helped Eddie bastardise his jeans, slicing them up more than he figured was necessary, but hey, who was he to try and put a muzzle on his best friend's identity slash fashion crisis. He even showed him how to create a frayed effect by quickly scrubbing the raw edges together, and honestly, after a few minutes he'd calmed down quite a bit, to the point where his stutter was nearly minimal. After his pants were back on, and Eddie had checked himself out in the mirror approvingly, he showed Bill how much length he wanted cut off the bottom of his t-shirt – not an excessive amount, but enough to show a sliver of skin if he lifted his arms up. It ended up a little lopsided, but not noticeably enough that it mattered. Bill thought Eddie was far past caring about that, anyway.

“What do you think?” Eddie asked, holding his hands on his hips and looking very unlike himself – so uncollected and messy, but not bad, Bill thought. He hummed, watching the other boy make adjustments as he looked at his reflection, past the streaks of grime and water stains and graffiti littering the mirror. He started to play with his hair, fluffing it out before running his hand back through it.

“I h-have an idea,” Bill offered, thinking that they'd gone this far, may as well keep piling shit on. He shrugged his backpack off, kneeling down to rifle through it until he found what he was looking for, producing a fistful of coloured markers held together with a rubber band. Eddie raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting up into a smirk. “I p-promise it'll w-w-wash out.”

Meanwhile, Eddie – (the actual one) – had realised too late that he didn't have a clue where he was supposed to be going. Not that he would have been able to sit down and pay attention to anything, with the rate his heart was currently beating at, and the ache still pounding away at the back of his skull. Knowing that wandering the building aimlessly would definitely end in him getting written up by some freshman who thought that being a hall monitor gave you any real authority, and knowing that he couldn't exactly go back and talk to Richie, because duh, he headed out to the track. He knew it wouldn't be in use until the afternoon, and if he could waste some time by running in frantic circles then at least something would feel normal.

It wasn't as easy now – Richie's skinny jeans constricted a lot of his movement, and he kept tripping over his own feet, – but eventually he fell into a rhythm and just went.

He'd never really known why he liked it so much. He was good at it, sure. Really good at it. One-point-three-seconds-away-from-breaking-the-state-record good at it. That was the answer he gave people when they asked why, at least. If he was any sort of introspective he'd know that his skill played little part in the real reason.

His mother hadn't let him set foot in a physical education class until he was in high school, and that was only after a whole year of begging and pleading and compromise – he'd not participate in contact sports or anything with a bat, a promise that he didn't keep but she still believed he did. He'd joined track a couple years ago, which his coach recommended when Eddie consistently beat out the rest of the class in both speed and endurance any time they did laps. It's how he'd gotten closer to Ben, who as far as he could tell joined the team out of spite for another teacher who told him he'd never run a mile in under fifteen minutes, and he could now do one in seven.

Eddie told his mother that he spent those afternoons studying at Bill's, but some part of him always wanted to tell her. Wanted to say; 'just watch me, Ma. Just watch how fast I go! I'm fucking flying out there! I'm not breaking like you said I would! I'm not dying like you said I would!' but he knew that if she found out just how good he was at it, then she'd lock him up and never let him go. If she knew that he could run away, he'd never get the chance.

And god, it felt so fucking good. The feeling of his feet pelting against the tartan ground, the strain in his hamstrings, the burn in his calves, the sweat, the heat, all of it, – he felt alive out there. He could forget the pills and the calorie counting and the stupid piece of plastic that he didn't even need to have in his pocket when he was doing it, because it was the only time that his lungs ever felt open enough to breath on his own. He didn't even have to care about how that didn't make sense. It didn't matter. Nothing fucking mattered!

So he ran until the ache in his legs outweighed the one in his head, and then some, then when he couldn't run anymore he walked, and when he couldn't do that he laid down face first on the track. The synthetic material was cold due to the heavy cloud cover that hadn't passed in days, the familiar smell of rubber and grass invaded his senses. His glasses pressed uncomfortably into his face, and were also fogged up to the point of being useless, but he didn't bother to take them off. He hoped that if he concentrated on it enough, he might melt right down into the earth.

Before he could make any decent headway on that plan, he felt someone kick softly at his leg. He held his breath, playing dead in the hopes that they'd just go away, but they only waited a moment before kicking him again, a little harder this time. He tilted his head so he could see who it was, before exhaling a long sigh. “Get up,” Stan said, dryly. Eddie turned his head back to his original position.

“Make me.”

There was a pause where he thought he might have left, but then he heard shuffling, and saw Stan sit down in his peripheral vision.

“Why are you out here?” Stan asked, leaning forward on his knees and resting his chin in his hands.

“Why are you?” Eddie retaliated, too tired for any real bite. Stan huffed, tapping his fingers along his cheekbone.

“Because I went to check on you in the sick bay and you weren't there,” he said, and Eddie felt a tinge of guilt at his tone, “I wanted to make sure you weren't being murdered.”

He turned his head again, resting his cheek against the ground so he was facing Stan.

“I thought you'd be out smoking on the football field again, but then I saw you lying in the middle of the running track. Shoot me for being worried.”

Eddie muttered a 'sorry', and Stan rolled his eyes before smiling down at him.

They give a crap, Eddie thought, suddenly remembering the roll of tape he'd earlier seen Stan take out of his bag. He forced down the lump that formed in his throat.

A few raindrops fell, dotting the ground in front of him and tapping softly against the side of his face.

“Come on,” Stan said, standing himself up and dusting off before reaching his hand out, “we'll go find Bev and Mike and wag next period.”

And Eddie thought, pushing himself up to his knees and taking his hand, hey, that doesn't sound too bad.

Tag list (bolded won’t tag): @fanficisgoodforthesoul @i-is-gazebo@dandeliontozier@panicatbakerst@howellhxlic@musicalsaftermusicals@bernaynay@bust-a-move-bev@reddie-to-go@richietoaster@omgboiledcabbages@reddietofall@flowersiren@lousytrashmouth@get-fcking-reddie@finnwollfhards @bjrdies@steve-harringtwin@thecastlebyers@books-and-donuts@valenschmidt@grasshoppper@80s-trashmouth@beepbeeprichiellc@little-miss-hellraiser@okay-i-get-it-alreddie@finn-trashmouth@kaspbrakseggo @lolahood @sad-synth@turtleneckrichie@reddieforanything @vitomire @its-stranger-than-you-think@spooky-risley@ohheydatsme@hoteltozier@holystanlon@apatheticphotos@dewdropseddie@ill-float-too@peterparkerwithoutacause@sir-furry @ailecstuff @bird-uris@iamworried7@beepbeepbitchard@trashcanonlegs@11leggomyeggo11@bisexual80scliffjumper@reddieseggrolls @rediietoship @starryeyedstanley @beepbeep-losers@richiefuckfacetozier

#writing #vice versa fic #reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #reddie fanfic #in which both them have a fucking breakdown and also me. i have a breakdown too

42 notes · View notes

let-it-raines · 5 years

Text

Another Bad Christmas Movie (1/2)

Summary: Emma Swan’s life is not a Christmas movie. Sure, there are some aspects of it that are similar, but that’s true for everyone who has a pulse and has ever heard All I Want For Christmas is You (don’t lie, you probably sing along to it). So maybe she’s a little frustrated and annoyed with some holiday traditions, especially the cheesy ones in the movies, but Killian Jones is going to help change all of that.

Rating: Mature-ish to err on the safe side but mostly just holiday fun.

Also found on ao3 | here |

Part Two will be posted tomorrow or on the 26th since this was too long to just be a one-shot. But it’s a gift and Christmas, and I’m not leaving everyone hanging as much as usual.

Surprise @searchingwardrobes I’m your @cssecretsanta2k18! 🎅🏻 I got my little message with your name and immediately thought, huh, I got another Southern girl! I have no idea how much you knew about me to begin with, and it was so, so hard trying to be anonymous without giving too much away but still letting you know me a little. I’m sure you figured it out anyways. Getting to know you has been an absolute joy, Melanie, and I hope you have the merriest of Christmases! I also hope that you enjoy this story! You were pretty broad with what you like, but I may have done some stalking on you during this last month to help guide parts of this story! I think you’ll find some little Easter eggs (or more appropriately Christmas ornaments) just for you. ♥️🎄🎁

Tag List: @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @kmomof4 @wellhellotragic @ekr032-blog-blog @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @captswanis4vr @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @branlovesouat @dreadpirateemma

“I think Christmas magic can heal everything,” Annabeth swoons to William, her body wrapped up in a festive red and green coat with a white dress underneath. She takes a step closer to William, her hand tentatively and appropriately placed on his shoulder, fingers squeezing the slightest bit. “I think it can even heal someone like you who doesn’t believe in Christmas.”

“You know, Beth,” William smiles, his own festive hat on top of his head shielding him from the snow falling down, “I think you’re right. But it’s not just the magic of Christmas.”

“No?”

“No,” he shakes his head, the smile on his face growing brighter, “it’s the magic of your love.”

“I love you, too,” Annabeth grins before pressing up on her toes and chastely pressing a kiss against Willian’s lips before the camera zooms out to show all of the townspeople milling around town square, white Christmas lights strung between the buildings with William and Annabeth somehow standing alone right next to the oversized Christmas tree. Right before the screen fades to black, the star on the top of the tree flickers before the credits roll.

“That’s a load of crap,” Emma groans, throwing a piece of her popcorn at the television screen like she’s Reese Witherspoon in that one scene in Legally Blonde where she calls Brad Pitt a liar. Emma’s always related to that scene more than most of that movie, and if anyone were to ask her, she’s only seen the movie once or twice and not dozens of times.

“You only say that because you’re the Grinch of Storybrooke, Emma,” her mom chastises, and isn’t she too old to be chastised by her mother?

“That’s not true,” she grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest and sinking further into the couch, wondering if she can just disappear and somehow get out of this conversation she’s very clearly just walked herself into it. Maybe she’s a bit of a Grinch. For tonight at least.

“Yes, it is, sweetheart. This movie is romantic, and yes, it’s a little bit cheesy but that’s part of the appeal.”

“First of all, it’s November, so why the hell is Hallmark even showing Christmas movies? Shouldn’t they be showing Thanksgiving movies or something like that?”

“What’s a Thanksgiving movie?”

“A movie where they romanticize the Thanksgiving holiday.”

She’d like to see a movie where they fall in love over preparing a turkey. They pull all of the innards out together and then that little tag thing at the end. It’s disgusting, and not nearly as aesthetically appealing as baking perfectly done Christmas cookies or making pies that are family recipes that date back centuries. Excuse her if she doesn’t believe that Annabeth’s great great grandmother was making a blueberry pie with snowflake shaped pie crust and Bluebell ice cream one hundred years ago.

“Thanksgiving just doesn’t have quite the appeal of Christmas. I mean, look at this. There’s snow covering the ground as the two of them fall in love again over hot chocolate and baking together. Isn’t that the dream?”

“Oh, yes. I’d love to fall in love with my high school boyfriend again, Mom. He was a gem.”

Mary Margaret smiles at her, and Emma already knows the words that are going to come out of her mother’s mouth. Yeah, she definitely walked right into this one. She has no excuses other than the inability to not shut her mouth.

“I’d like you to fall back in love with him, too. Wouldn’t it be so nice to be with your first love? It’s like your father and me. There’s nothing quite like it.”

“Mom, I get that you romanticize everything, but you have to stop romanticizing my relationship with Neal. He was, still is, an asshole. Just because your first love worked out, doesn’t mean mine has to. I don’t know why you can’t understand that first loves aren’t who you have to end up with. I swear it’s like we have this conversation every time you see him in town.”

“Emma, I’m – ”

“Save it.” She gets up from her seat on the couch and goes to wrap herself in her jacket, fluffing out the hair that gets stuck under the collar. “I’m going to the Rabbit Hole. I’ll talk to you later. Enjoy the next movie.”

As soon as the front door slams behind her and she feels the first gust of cold wind hitting the bare skin of her face, her ears reddening already as her entire body shivers, she knows that she’s messed up when it comes to her mom. She’s just too stubborn to open up the door and go back in to talk about it like the adult she is, instead wandering down the street from her parents’ house to get something to drink and then go home to the quiet paradise that is her apartment. She loves her mom. She really does, but some things she just can’t stomach anymore. Her high school boyfriend, Neal, was a cheater and a liar and an all around horrible human being, and her mom constantly thinks they should get back together because “they were so cute together.” It’s sickening sometimes to see someone so idealistic about the world, and while Emma knows that all Mary Margaret wants is for her to be happy, she’s got to stop pushing her together with people who she doesn’t want to be with. If she wants to find love…well, she doesn’t know what she’ll do. But it’s not going to come from her mother’s naïve pushing.

It’s freezing tonight, and she wishes she had something other than her red leather jacket to keep her warm. She needs something made of wool along with her gloves and her beanie, but she wasn’t exactly planning on walking through the late night air to go to a bar by herself. She doesn’t usually go into the Rabbit Hole. It’s…seedy at its best, and if she goes, she never goes alone no matter how crime free Storybrooke usually is.

All thanks to Sheriff David Nolan, of course.

When she opens the beaten down wooden door, a rush of warm air hits her that allows her entire body to practically sigh in relief as her boots cause the hardwood floors to squeak and one or two men at the pool table to look over at her. A different kind of shiver runs through her body at their stares, and even if she can handle herself, she hurries to one of the many empty seats at the bar. It’s quiet in here tonight, more bare than she’s ever seen it before, but she’s also never been in here on a Tuesday this early.

“What can I get you, lass?”

“A whiskey sour and an explanation as to why the Deputy Sheriff is serving me a drink tonight.”

Killian laughs before turning around and quickly fixing her drink, sliding it over to her before propping his arms on the bar counter and scratching behind his ear as his lips quirk up to one side.

“It seems that my brother has come down with a cold, and,” he motions to the practically empty bar, “he couldn’t give up all of the potential business that he guaranteed would come from tonight.”

“Yeah, it’s super crowded in here. Really a booming business. Everyone must be out committing crimes because the Deputy Sheriff is otherwise occupied with all of these bar goers.”

“Ah, ah, love,” he chuckles, inching a bit closer to her before flashing her with one of his grins that she knows so well, “your father is on parole tonight, and no one pulls the wool over his eyes. So our lovely little town should be crime free, especially since two of my five customers are Will and Leroy.”

“That’s a very good point.”

“So tell me about all of your woes, darling.”

“I’ve never told a bartender about my woes before. I think you watched too many movies before coming in here to fill in.”

“Aye, but you look like something is bothering you. I’ve known you long enough that you’re a bit of an open book.”

“I am not.”

“You are. Also, not to take away from Ruby, but we both know I’m your best mate. You’re going to tell me your woes sooner or later. Might as well do it now.”

He makes a good point. She was going to call him after she got something to drink. She probably should have called and asked him to come get something to drink with her, but all she wanted was to be alone for a little while. Then she saw his face behind the bar and was thankful for this little stroke of luck at already having him here. They might as well do the whole cliché bartender thing where she fills her body with alcohol and spills her guts to him. Yet here, in this situation, the bartender already knows most of her woes. He’s been there for pretty much all of them, and she can’t lie to him if she tries. She might have her superpower with lying when it comes to, well, everyone, but Killian Jones has one when it comes to her, something that happens when you’ve known someone since you were five and he was seven.

That’s…twenty-three years of personal information.

“My mother and I got into a fight because she thinks that my life should be a Hallmark movie like hers.”

Killian leans forward again, propping his chin on his fist and changing his soft smile into a cheeky grin before shrugging his shoulders. “Is your life not a Hallmark movie? A beautiful woman living in an idyllic seaside town working as a freelance artist and living down the street from your Sheriff of a father and elementary school teacher of a mother who are the perfect examples of good and kind people. That sounds a bit like one of those movies to me.”

“You forgot the biggest part.”

He raises his eyebrows, waggling them like he’s done ever since she can remember. How does he even do that? She can move hers ups and down but not like that. It’s some kind of weird facial thing, and he’s always used it to his advantage to make her laugh or tease her.

“I didn’t forget. I just think there’s more to your life than having a man love you. It’d be nice, and that’d be the luckiest bastard in the world, but it doesn’t define you, love.”

“Yeah, well, my mom doesn’t see it that way. She’s got this fixation that I should get back together with Neal.”

Killian raises an eyebrow (there he goes again) in shock or confusion or something. “Why the bloody hell would she suggest you get back together with the man who slept his way through town while he was still dating you?”

“Because my mother is an idealist who thinks that your only love can be your first love.”

“No offense to your darling mother, but that’s rubbish. I wouldn’t get back together with my first love for all of the money in the world.”

“I’m glad someone in this town is sensible. Even Neal tries to ask me out sometimes, and I just don’t understand that. He betrayed my trust, and he thinks that just because ten years have passed, I’m going to jump back into bed with him? Like, what the hell?”

She ends up staying to talk to Killian for the rest of his shift, keeping him company into the late-night hours. She doesn’t drink any more than her one glass, and by the time it’s two in the morning, she’s completely forgotten about her fight with her mother and her distaste for Hallmark movies. She hadn’t seen Killian for a week, something unusual considering how he lives in her building and works for her father, so they used the time to catch up, telling tales of the adventures of his work at the station as well as the weird things people ask her to paint (she is not going to do a nude portrait of Granny no matter how much the woman offers her…maybe a lifetime of free grilled cheese sandwiches and onion rings…maybe). Of course, as they always do, they fall into reminiscing on their childhood, tonight getting caught up how much trouble they got in when they were in elementary school and prank called residents from her dad’s phone at the station. She’d been eight and Killian ten, and it was the first time either of them had gotten grounded.

Now, though, she’s twenty-eight to Killian’s thirty, and they don’t get grounded for any of their shenanigans, mostly because the most they do is each eat their own box of pizza while drinking rum in one of their apartments.

But also because they’re adults.

After locking up the bar and making sure that Will and Leroy get home safely (a police officer is never off duty, love), Killian walks her to her apartment – okay, so hers is two floors up and a fire escape away from his so he was going that way anyways – his arm wrapped around her shoulder and his beanie on top of her head to keep her warm. His little elf ears are tipped in red from the cold, his new shorter hair cut showing them off, and she has to stifle her giggle so as not to laugh at them. She thinks a lot of the cheesiness of Christmas is crap, but if every elf was like her best friend, maybe it wouldn’t all be bad.

“G’night, love,” he whispers after getting her inside her apartment door, the coolness of it after a day of nonuse almost as bad as the chill outside. “You bringing your dad lunch tomorrow?”

“I am before I have to go buy new paints.”

“Good,” he takes a step back, snatching the knit hat off of her head, “I think I’d like a toasted sandwich with some of that tomato soup from Granny’s, if you’d be so kind.”

She doesn’t get a chance to say that he can buy his own damn lunch before he’s jogging down the staircase at the end of the hall and heading to his own apartment. She hears a few muffled curses before she closes her front door, and the goofball most definitely just tripped on the stairs.

Her week passes quickly, a surprising amount of people asking her to take last minute Christmas card photos or commissioning her to edit the photos they’ve already taken and making them into themed cards. She mostly deals with painting because that’s what she loves, but she’d go broke if that was the only thing she did. Storybrooke isn’t exactly an expensive town to live in, but a girl’s got to live in some place other than the shady apartments down past the docks or with her parents. So she takes photos to live. She’s done everything from weddings to Christmas cards to family portraits to portraits of pets. That last one is her favorite. If her apartment allowed dogs, she’d get one, no question. She had a border collie growing up, sweet Wilby, and she’d love to have another precious companion like that.

Maybe someday.

She’s just finishing the edits of Anna and Kristoff’s Christmas cards, the two of them wanting a bright, colorful card while Anna’s sister Elsa wants a card of whites and icy blues, when she hears muffled curses and a loud bang out on her fire escape.

It’s either a burglar or…

Killian.

Sighing, she rolls back in her desk chair and goes to her living room window, unlocking it and lifting up the glass pane to see Killian’s head pop up through the gap for the ladder, his black hair covered in a red and white Santa hat, and when he pulls himself up on the metal platform, she sees that he’s got several brown paper grocery bags.

“What are you doing, Killian? You know I have a front door? And you have a key to it, by the way.”

“Aye,” he grunts, scrambling to his feet and through the window, handing her the grocery bags so that he can more easily get inside, “but Ms. Roberts is sitting on the staircase, and I’d rather not get roped into her trying to set me up with her daughter again.”

“Why don’t you want to date her again?”

“Well, she’s seventeen for one, and I find myself liking adults.”

“You make a valid point.” She takes the bags and walks them the few feet to her kitchen counter. Her apartment is basically one room with a bedroom and bathroom down the hall in the back, and she can get to anything she needs in just a few steps. Shuffling through the bags she sees sugar, eggs, milk, icing, sprinkles, everything one would need to make…cookies.

“Killian, did you get a sudden urge to make cookies? You don’t even like cookies that much.”

“Eh,” he protests, reaching up to scratch at his ear before moving down to rub at his scruff, “I like them on occasion,” he pats his stomach, “but I do like to keep in shape by avoiding a lot of sweets.”

“So why the sudden penchant for baking?”

“Because, darling, I was thinking – ”

“That’s never a good idea.”

Killian rolls his eyes and sticks out his tongue. “You’re being awfully cheeky, Nolan, when I’m about to change your entire world.”

“With your baked goods?”

“Is that an innuendo?”

“How could that possibly be an – ” she slaps his chest when the realization hits her, and he simply waggles his eyebrows and gets and cheeky grin plastered across his face as well, “ – you’re so gross. So how are you going to rock my entire world?”

His left eyebrow raises even higher, and it only takes her a few seconds to realize where she’s messed up. “I mean change my world. How are you going to change my world?”

“I’m going to make you believe in the wonders of Christmas!” She peers into the bag again, her skepticism rising with every moment that passes. She gets frustrated baking with the cookie dough that comes pre-cut. She can’t imagine how annoyed she’ll get having to make them from scratch. How the hell does Killian even know how to make cookies from scratch? And how is it going to make her believe in the wonders of Christmas? She already believes in the wonders of Christmas. She just doesn’t believe in some of the overly cringe-worthy Christmas activities they do in Hallmark movies where the people somehow fall in love in a month. It’s unrealistic.

“Through cookies?”

“Cookies, among other things, aye. I was thinking about our conversation at the bar the other day, and while, no, life isn’t a Hallmark movie, there are some things I think we could learn from them. So you and I are going to partake in as many cheesy Christmas traditions as we can.”

“What the hell? Why?”

“Because I was thinking that you deserve to love Christmas, Emma. I know you don’t hate it or anything, but not every tradition is bad. And I don’t want you to be so bitter about your relationships in the past that you can’t have fun.”

“Aren’t most of these activities romantic? I mean, that’s what those movies are about. I’m not bitter by the way. I was just pissed at my mom.”

“Aye, but they don’t have to be romantic.” Okay, so he’s just ignoring her protests then, unpacking all of the ingredients and placing them on her countertops. “Come on, love. It’ll be fun. I’ll make it fun, and it’ll be so much better than us slopping around in our apartments doing nothing.”

Killian has apparently never once made cookies from scratch, so it takes three hours and five batches before they finally get a cookie sheet full of oddly shaped (he brought Christmas shaped cookie cutters to really round out the fun, and they do not work in the slightest) sugar cookies. Her entire apartment is going to smell like sugar for days, and she’s pretty sure that their super is going to yell at them for how much trash they put down the shoot. Killian also yelled at her for trying to sneak a cookie fresh out of the oven, so it’s really just par for the course at this point.

“They have to cool, darling. We’re decorating them.”

“Do you know how to decorate cookies?”

“No, but you’re a painter. You can figure it out, can’t you?”

It takes a trip to the grocery store (and a detour for Granny’s grilled cheese) to get piping bags and more decorating tools, and another three hours later, her kitchen countertops are all filled with highly festive Christmas cookies. She may have gone a little overboard and made hers look like something you see in stores while her rejects and Killian’s look more akin to something a child would make, smeared icing and mixed colors that make what’s supposed to be a white angel look more like a greenish-gray blob.

If she puts a side by side comparison of their decorating skills on Instagram, no one has to know.

Okay, so all of her followers have to know. She’s pretty dang proud of her cookies.

And a little bit proud of Killian’s, too.

“You know,” Killian muses as he takes a bite of that very same greenish-gray blob of a cookie, the two of them sitting on the kitchen floor, backs against the cabinets with her jeans completely covered in flour, “just because something is ugly on the outside, doesn’t mean it tastes bad on the inside.”

“Is that supposed to be philosophical?”

“It’s supposed to a point about how my cookies taste just as good as yours.”

“That’s what she said,” Emma mumbles under her breath before reaching up on the counter only to pull down one of Killian’s cookies. This one is definitely very green and very much a Christmas tree. The ornaments on it, however, are a different story. At least she thinks they’re ornaments.

“Darling, you know I love a good innuendo,” he purrs, his voice lowering so that she has no choice but to look over at him only to see his dark brows dancing across his face while his lips twitch, “but you and I both know that we would not have the same type of cookies. You’d likely be a ginger cookie, sweet but a little snappy, while I’d be more like a yule log.”

“A yule…” she slaps his chest again as laughter bubbles inside of her own. He’s an idiot, but he’s a damn good friend. “You’re such a weirdo. An inappropriate weirdo.”

“Aye, that I am. I don’t mean to upset you, Emma, but I think we make quite the cookie-baking team.”

“Why would that upset me?”

“Well, maybe because you enjoyed your time partaking in a cheesy Christmas tradition.”

She did, but she’s not going to admit that to Killian. At least not yet. He’d be far too smug for his own good if she told him that, so she simply shrugs. “Keep thinking that, Jones.”

He helps her package all of the cookies up, and she doesn’t fail to notice when he puts some of the more neatly decorated ones in his Tupperware container instead of simply taking the ones he decorated himself, the thief.

It’s not How the Grinch Stole Christmas.

It’s How Killian Stole the Christmas Cookies.

Okay, okay, so maybe she’s as bad at naming movies as the people in charge of the Hallmark channel are as well.

Eventually Killian has to leave, citing her dad making him work the night shift tonight, and she sends him off with his travel mug of coffee (one sugar with the tiniestbit of milk) and his container full of cookies. He’s still teasing and taunting her, telling her to just admit that she had a good time this afternoon, but she won’t simply because Killian wants her to. Then, right as he’s about to step out the door – and not the fire escape – he reaches forward and swipes his pointer finger over her lips, the sensation causing her cheeks to tingle.

“You’ve a bit of icing on the corner of your lips, love,” he explains, and when the man licks the finger with the offending icing, his tongue flickering out as he hums, her stomach starts to flutter, the pinpricks matching the ones in her cheeks.

She doesn’t know what’s happening, what this unfamiliar sensation is, but she doesn’t like it.

“You and icing, Nolan, a batch made in heaven.”

And then Killian walks out of her front door, leaving her, but those pinpricks still remain.

Emma thinks that the cookie incident is going to be a one-time thing, that she and Killian are going to go back to normal and just drink beer and eat pizza while binging Netflix shows far into the early hours of the morning when Killian doesn’t have to work the next day. But no, he sticks to this whole little scheme of making her enjoy the very things she complained about at the bar.

That’ll be last time she ever spills her guts to Killian Jones…okay, so she knows that’s not true.

During the first week of December, they go shopping for decorations for her apartment, Killian loading up the shopping cart with red, white, green, and patterned ornaments as well as several boxes of colored lights.

“I don’t have enough space for all of these lights.”

“Trust me, love. You’re going to have space.”

“I don’t have a tree for any of this either.”

He winks. “We’re getting there.”

After her apartment looks like some kind of winter wonderland – well, one that’s still packaged up – with various Christmas scented candles, including her personal favorite Mountain Lodge. She doesn’t know what it is about it, but when it’s lit, the wick gently flickering and the scent permeating throughout her apartment, it makes her feel like she’s wrapped up in something comforting, like her father’s hug or one of Killian’s sweatshirts from the police academy, the frayed edges falling across her thighs. It’s ridiculous, but her life is nothing but ridiculous at this point.

Killian drags her to a Christmas tree farm, one filled with evergreen Douglas Firs and Blue Spruces. There’s apparently a few other kinds, but she can’t remember the names of them now. She didn’t even know the first two until Killian told her. She just kind of thought they were all Christmas trees, not really realizing there were so many different…breeds. Is breeds the right words for Christmas trees? Is it the same as dogs? Whatever. It doesn’t matter.

Okay, so it apparently matters to Killian.

Snow hasn’t quite hit Storybrooke yet, surprisingly enough. The white powder is usually coating the town at this point of December, usually even during November if the stars align, but there’s only the slightest dusting of snow, more like ice than anything else, causing the air to be brisk enough for the need to be wrapped up in warm clothes to go outside. So she and Killian trudge through the rows of trees, passing families all bundled up in their puffy jackets and knit hats, little pom poms bouncing of their heads that likely match the one on Emma’s beanie. Emma may be the so-called Grinch of Christmas (which, so not true, Mom), but at least she dresses festively (and practically). They’re picking out a Christmas tree, and Killian is in his normal head to toe black, the only concession he’s making to his red and gray plaid shirt, unbuttoned of course, because God forbid Killian cover up his chest hair.

“Aren’t you cold?” she ponders as the trees start to get taller, almost to the point of what she knows is her ceiling’s capacity.

“I’m from London, darling,” he concedes, running his hands along the green limbs, little bristles falling with each of his touches, “this Maine weather is nothing.”

“First of all, you haven’t lived in London for twenty-three years. Second of all, you’re a liar. The tips of your ears are red.” She stands on her toes to grab at his ears, wiggling them, and they’re like ice underneath her touch. “Where’s your beanie?”

“In my coat pocket.”

She presses down on her feet, the dried grass crunching underneath the heels of her boots before she reaches into his pocket and pulls the gray knit hat out, the material soft against her fingertips. It only takes her a moment to press up onto her toes again and pull the beanie over Killian’s hair, making sure that his ears are covered before pulling back and patting him on the shoulders.

“There. Now you won’t lose your ears to the cold.”

He smiles at her, a small little closed lipped thing that causes his eyes to crinkle and her breath to unexpectedly catch, the white puffs not passing through her lips for a moment. “I’m made of tougher material than that, Emma Nolan. Not all of us have to be bundled like we’re in the arctic.” He reaches over to pull at the fuzzy ball at the top of her hat, tugging it before patting her head like she’s some kind of child, and all of the pent-up breath releases in an exasperated sigh. “Let’s go get you a tree.”

It takes several hours, a shocking amount of cursing passing through Killian’s lips, help from Leroy, who apparently works at the tree farm and Belle – the poor woman passing them as they tried to get the tree into the entrance to the apartment – but they do eventually get the tree inside, positioning it in the small space next to her bay window. They’d had to move her furniture around, making everything cramped, and cut off a little of the tree, but now she’s got a fully decorated Christmas tree lighting up her apartment, making everything glow in the reflection of the multi-colored lights.

Sighing, she flops down onto the couch, propping her feet up in Killian’s lap while his are propped up on the coffee table.

“So, Jones, why didn’t we get one of those for you too since you’re the great holiday elf?”

He’s messing with her socked toes, the mismatched polka dots and stripes bright against Killian’s dark jeans. “Figured I didn’t need one.”

“Why the hell not? I thought we were experiencing all of the magic of Christmas.”

“Aye, love,” he squeezes her foot before resting his head on the back of the couch and smirking, “but I’m over here more often than I’m downstairs. Figured there wasn’t a need for two. Plus, what fun would it be getting the tree into my flat when we had to walk it up four floors for you?”

“So basically what you’re saying is that you’re trying to torture me with all of these activities?”

“Exactly.”

The next week Killian is busy at the station while she seeks out last minute commissions for Christmas gifts, walking around town and asking everyone she knows if they’d like Christmas cards, personalized stationary, any paintings for gifts. Storybrooke is a small town, one of those places where you know almost everyone, and it’s likely the only reason she doesn’t have to pick up a regular job, though she will occasionally fill in for Ruby at the diner. By the end of her first day seeking out extra jobs, she had enough to keep her busy for the week – or the entire month though she doesn’t have that long to work on them – and for her rent to be paid with enough left over for Christmas gifts.

The week isn’t filled with as many Christmas activities, and Emma wonders if maybe Killian will calm down on his quest and realize that he doesn’t need to be doing all of this just because she was frustrated with her mom and the Hallmark channel on one night.

On Thursday night she’s just snuggling under her comforter, the fluffy white blanket keeping her warm as the temperature continually drops to almost unbearable levels. As soon as she boots up her laptop, scrolling through emails to look for discounts to buy her mom some new sweaters, she hears her front door slam. Her body tenses, self-defense mechanisms kicking in, and just as she starts to throw the covers off of her legs, Killian comes barging into her bedroom, his cheeks red and his chest heaving.

“What the hell?” She tosses her pillow at him, her own chest heaving as she tries to regulate her breathing. “Why are you barging in like that?”

“It’s snowing.”

“And?”

He doesn’t answer, instead rifling through her closet and throwing sweaters at her along with some of her sweatpants, before moving through her drawers, only hesitating when he gets to her underwear drawer and turns to look at her.

“Nolan, you have a hell of a lot of red lace in here.”

“Shut up. Why are you even looking in there?”

“I’m looking for the socks that go with your wellies.”

“Bottom drawer.”

He closes away her underwear drawer (her face is now undoubtedly as red as that lace) before rifling through the bottom drawer to find her socks and tossing those at her as well.

“Get dressed, love. We’re going on an adventure.”

“Are you bringing snacks?”

He rolls his eyes before putting his hands on his hips and tiling his head to the side while he stares at her. “I’m not an idiot. I dare not force you out into the cold without providing you with food.”

“Good.”

She and Killian make their way to the docks, passing all of the boats (“some are ships, love”) only to climb the stairs of the lighthouse, her legs burning and her breath heavy by the time they reach the top. When Killian nudges open the door, having to push his shoulder against it while she pushes to get the rusty hinges open, she’s suddenly hit by a rush of chilled air and a view that she’s never seen before.

Storybrooke looks enchanting, the roofs covered in white with red and green lights reflecting off the streets, the snow only making it brighter. She can see a few people milling around the Rabbit Hole, the neon lights reflecting off the snow from it glaringly obvious compared to the Christmas lights adorning the roofs of the neighbors. She wonders if Liam is working tonight. She’s sure that he is, and that Graham will most definitely get a call for drunk and disorderly conduct. She might not work at the police station, but between her dad and Killian, plus days working there as a teenager, she may as well be a deputy. Everything else is closed down, Storybrooke not a place to stay up past midnight, and she thinks that she’ll have to come back to look at it all when some lights from the houses are turned on so that parts of the town don’t seem blacked out.

Twisting her body, she looks out at the ocean, the waves crashing against the snow-covered sand that matches the crests of waves that are slowly rolling in. There’s not a soul to be seen walking along the shore, a place riddled with more memories than she can count – some she’d care to remember while others she wishes would wash away and sink into the depths of the ocean – so the snow and sand remain untouched, like a perfect white blanket next to the deep blue of the water. There’s one ship near the horizon, the lights from it making it visible to her eyes, and her heart constricts looking at the sheer beauty of Storybrooke from above. She’s lived here for the entirety of her life, minus the one year she moved to New York because she needed to get away until Killian brought her home, but she’s never seen her home look quite like this.

“It’s beautiful.”

“It is,” Killian agrees before wrapping his arm around her shoulder, pulling her in closer so that his warmth envelops her, but an unexpected shiver still runs through her, her entire body lightly convulsing so that Killian’s arm tightens around her shoulder and his chin rubs against the top of her head.

“How did you know to look up here?”

“Simple. It’s the highest point in town, and I knew that you’d like the landscape view.”

She hums before pulling herself further into Killian and resting her head against his shoulder. He’s warm, and it’s freezing out. She loves the snow, loves the way it looks, but it’s cold and wet, often turning into mud and causing more issues than it causes beauty.

“So you said something about snacks?”

He rustles around in his coat pocket with his free hand until a foil package is placed in her eyeline, what’s obviously grilled cheese now obstructing her view of the town.

Or possibly making it better.

“God,” she groans, just thinking about how good that’s going to be even without being hot, “you’re the best.”

“So I’ve been told.”

They stay up at the lighthouse for a few more minutes before a chill wracks her body and she can’t be outside for much longer before she freezes to death. Killian’s body heat helps, but it’s not exactly enough, so she has to beg him to go home. Walking down the lighthouse steps is a hell of a lot easier than walking up, but by the time they’re at the apartment and she sees the staircase leading up to her apartment, she doesn’t think her legs can carry her any longer.

“I’m not doing it,” she whines, sitting down on the bottom set of stairs while Killian takes two at a time and is already at the first landing.

“You’re being pathetic.”

“I’m tired. I went running this morning, and then you made me climb so many stairs. It was so manystairs, Killian.”

Killian bounds down the stairs, his footsteps heavy until he’s squatting down in front of her, this stupid annoying look on his face while his eyebrows dance across his forehead. “Do you need me to carry you?”

“Would you really do that?”

She normally wouldn’t do this, but her legs feel like they’re on fire and about to turn into very heavy weights. Plus, she doesn’t think Killian will actually do it.

“Up to my apartment, but that’s it.”

Oh, so he will do it. She’s so distracted by that fact that Killian’s about to carry her up the stairs so that her next words slip out without her thinking. “Fine then. I’m sleeping with you tonight.”

“Well, love,” Killian grunts, pulling her up off the stairs before hooking his hands under thighs and picking her up like she weighs nothing, “I’ve been waiting for that for years.”

“Shut up, you goofball. I meant I’m just going to crash at your place.”

“I know, I know.” He takes the first few steps before loosening his grip around her so that she almost falls, her shriek so loud that she probably woke the neighbors, before wrapping her arms around his neck and squeezing so hard that she’s probably choking him. He deserves it for making her think she was going to fall.

“What the hell was that?”

“You have to lay off the cookies. Couldn’t hold you up.”

“Yeah, well, when we get in trouble for waking up the neighbors for being too loud, I’m blaming it on you.”

“I’ve always wanted to wake up the neighbors because you and I were being too loud.”

He’s absolutely impossible, and she’s absolutely not going to dignify that with a response. He’s being cheeky, and all she wants to do is go to bed. So he continues to carry her upstairs, this whole charade ridiculous, and after unlocking his door, he walks her inside and drops her onto his mattress, the springs moving underneath her. She doesn’t bother getting up, shucking her boots and socks while Killian ruffles through his drawers and throws her a pair of pajama pants and a sweatshirt while he heads into his bathroom to change clothes.

This is a routine they’ve done one too many times for her apartment to be upstairs, and after she’s changed her clothes and brushes her teeth with her toothbrush, she settles underneath Killian’s comforter, pulling the blankets around her body and keeping them to herself even as Killian slides onto the other side of the mattress, only tugging over the slightest bit his comforter.

She knows he’s not asleep by the way that his breathing is irregular, so she turns on her side, rolling a bit closer to the middle and throwing some more of the comforter this way.

“Thanks for tonight. I had fun.”

“Me too, darling. I’m glad you enjoyed it. Sorry that I’ve made your legs useless.”

She chuckles into her pillow before stretching out of leg and running her foot against Killian’s calves, making him yelp before rolling away from her and off the bed.

“What was that for? Why are you an icicle? You just made me scream at bloody two in the morning.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve always wanted to wake up the neighbors because you and I were being too loud.”

#cssecretsanta2k18 #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan #another bad christmas movie

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dexi-green · 5 years

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Avengers:Endgame Thoughts !!SPOILERS!!

Just some random thoughts and questions and such about the movie. There are spoilers so…don’t read if you haven’t seen it and care about spoilers. I tried to organize it a bit but we all know that’s impossible.

Okay so..I’m not the biggest fan of the Russo Brothers and what they have done with their Marvel films. There have been some improvements, and some things that just can’t be helped and I just want to make that known first. I don’t really hate any of the films they made, they are definitely enjoyable, and fun, have great moments.

I’ve been a bit critical about how they used some of the big storylines from the comics in the films, because they never felt the same (they never can honestly, comic books and films are different formats, different ways of storytelling) but this honestly is the closest to the annuals. This is the closest to waiting an entire year after reading comics each month, to the big huge event. It feels as big as those. Civil War didn’t to me, Age of Ultron didn’t, Infinity War kinda, but this. This felt huge. Especially when actually watching it.

This is a huge fanservice film. You could probably enjoy it without any prior knowledge, or without seeing all the other films, but god, it’s better if you do. Soooo many little throwbacks and easter eggs and payoffs from the earliest films and the comics. So I highly suggest the other films, I think every single one film has some sort of tribute in this one. (I’m making a list of references and such so I’ll see)

So one of my biggest gripes out of the way…the Joe Russo cameo. It completely pulled me out of the film. The scene itself could’ve been a nice little thing to see what Steve has been up to during those five years but…just watching and listening to what was mostly Joe Russo talking and inserting himself into the universe…eh :/ It’s not like a Stan Lee cameo, he didn’t have a hand in creating these characters and we don’t owe the Russo Brothers as much as we owe Lee and Kirby and Simon and Ditko and Bendis, etc. I think his cameo in Civil War and Winter Soldier was better, he barely talked in WS and not at all in CW, was barely on screen, it was fine. I just felt it was a little too much… His cameo was longer than Stan’s.

Also that was their way of making the “first openly gay character in a Marvel movie.” they even said that, “We felt it was important that one of us play him, to ensure the integrity and show it is so important to the filmmakers that one of us is representing that.” which...is really a cop out I feel. That LGBTQ representation, the smallest line of being on a date, could’ve easily gone to Valkyrie/Brunnhilde’s character, seeing as Tessa Thompson says her character is queer and played her that way (take one look at Tessa’s or Brie Larson’s twitter or some interviews, it isn’t hard to see they support it), and Tessa is actually Bisexual in real life. But whatever I guess...

Though it was definitely funnier than the other movies the Russo’s have done, and DEFINITELY prettier. I’ve had a big issue with the color grading and scene composition in the Russo’s movies. Say what you will, Joss Whedon knew how to make a comic splash page translate to screen, but the Russo’s did...the airport fight scene. The scene’s in their films that did have great composition were pulled straight from the comics (like Steve Vs. Tony, Shield vs. Repulsors) Okay. But, in Endgame it definitely looks better. There are memorable scenes. There are shots that I thought...okay thats art. The end battle had some shots, like Thanos in the foreground pointing his sword, and his army behind him. When Tony was looking out of the Benatar and saw the glowing light that is Captain Marvel. When Okoye, T’Challa, and Shuri walk out of the portal to the final battle, it’s a bit hazy, almost dream like, gives the feeling of Steve seeing them and not knowing whether this was real or not. The colors still look a bit dull in some scenes, but at this point it seems like the Russo’s are resigned to gray and mud and mess to get that gritty “realistic” vibe that for some reason is what people want and not the escapism, fantasy, cosmic stories that comics can be.

I did really like the small nods towards how relationships formed or degraded throughout time, or how people changed, especially during the five years we didn’t see. We got a little nod towards Carol and Rhodey’s relationship from the comics with…a nod and a good luck and a lingering look. Natasha calls Rocket fluffball, I think it was, and says she gets e-mails from him. Bruce and Natasha are on some sort of not dating but close friends terms after hardly interacting in Infinity War. Definitely acknowledging Age of Ultron and not just making it a joke and trying to push it aside. Nebula and Rocket seem to have gotten closer, probably due to all of their friends dusting. Rocket and Bruce seem to be on some level of friendship, or at least acknowledge each others connection to Thor. Okoye calling Natasha, Nat. Carol has been coming to earth somewhat regularly. Tony and Nebula playing the paper football game, her giving him the food even when he offered it to her, (It reminded me of the blueberry bit in the first Avengers) working together to try and get somewhere. TONY AND MORGAN!! He raised a whole five year old kid. He definitely seems like a stay at home dad, especially since Pep is the CEO of Stark Industries.

It’s really nice (and sad) to see how some people’s lives moved forward. How people tried to move on, how all these different personalities coped with the loss. Seeing Cassie has aged was definitely a favorite. Cassie has thought her dad was dead for five years, and for Scott he was only gone for five hours, but he comes back to his little girl as a teenager. At the end, when we see them together with Hope, we know that Scott now has to go forward knowing he missed five years of his daughter’s life, and is probably going to try and make the most of it. Maybe that means giving up Ant-Man, or having her join in (we need Stature, I mean come on, we need another young avenger). But it was nice to see that time didn’t just stand still until the Avengers found a fix. It kept moving forward.

I wish we would’ve gotten a bit more of Wakanda/Wakandans. Okoye was still alive, and I think M’Baku survived the Snap as well, but I don’t think we saw him until the final battle. We only got a couple glimpses of Wakanda. Which I guess makes sense because with both T’Challa and Shuri gone, Wakanda needed leadership (though I’m unsure as to whether Ramonda dusted as well), but it would’ve been nice for Okoye to maybe be a little involved in the efforts to get the stone, especially considering Wakanda is so advanced. Even without Shuri there could’ve been something they could contribute. T’Challa really had like one or two lines basically but okay.

I sorta didn’t like Thanos dusting away. I was a bit off put at the beginning when Thor cut of his head because to me, that was Nebula or Gamora’s kill (though seeing as both Gamora and Nebula seemed somewhat sad after seeing him die (Gamora after she seemed to kill him in IW and Nebula after Thor went for the head) MCU Gamora and Nebula might not want to do that). I understand it though, Thor was angry. At the end I was hoping that Thanos wouldn’t dust so we could get that kill, and sort of mirror Tony’s fear of being the only survivor, but… I guess it’s the writer’s poetic justice. It’s not bad, but I just kinda hoped they would go a different way with it.

I love when the music cuts out and Quill is just dancing and singing to himself. “So he’s an idiot”.

“I bet the raccoon didn’t have to climb a mountain.” “Technically he’s not a raccoon you know?” “oh whatever he eats garbage.” Are they talking about Rocket...or...Thor?

That girl power scene? We love it. “Don’t worry” “She’s got help.”

I love how they pass around Tony’s Gauntlet like a football, trying to get it to the van. But when Peter had it and was thrown to the ground and was curled up clutching it, I was so prepared to cry.

Same with Rocket trying to protect Groot.

No vision. I didn’t really find myself even thinking of him all that much during the film. We got a line or two but that’s about it. It makes me wonder about the ‘WandaVision’ show and whether that title was just to throw people off, or if he is going to be in it.

I’d be really interested in seeing more of what happened during those 5 years. Maybe I just want to see more of Tony as a dad? Maybe… But to see how everyone tries to move forward. Like what does Cassie do? Did her mom and step-dad dust to? Was she alone? Did the Avengers check on her? I think Bruce mentions he spent 18 months in a Gamma Lab. I would love to see how he came to terms with Hulk. I would love to see how the Asgardian’s settled. Etc. I think there are some interesting stories there, maybe for future shows or comics or stories.

CAROL DANVERS / CAPTAIN MARVEL

I love that Carol Danvers had a small moment/lingering shot when they were looking at everyone who dusted and she saw Nick Fury. Another little nod towards a relationship without being overt and having her mention to characters how Nick Fury was a close friend. I mean that was the reason why they came out with the Captain Marvel movie before this. So the audience members who saw both would understand Carol’s role, powers, motives, and relationships before so they wouldn’t have to squeeze it all into this movie.

I also forgot that Captain Marvel was even in this movie after the last time they showed her in the beginning because I was so wrapped up in everything else, so when she showed up at the end I was genuinely surprised and excited! They really hyped her up to be the most powerful hero, but didn’t overuse her or make her OP at all. They gave everyone else their time knowing that she has the future MCU ahead of her. I think they spent a good amount of time on the original avengers as this really was their send off, knowing the rest of the characters have future films/shows to shine in. (Which kind of makes me forgive the lack of Wakanda..but still…)

The look on Thanos’ face when Carol showed up, amazing. Her exchange with Peter? Pure and beautiful. And that little *dink* when he tries to headbutt her? Pure comedy.

Thanos pulling the power stone out of the gauntlet to use against Carol was...forgive me...a power move.

THOR ODINSON & LOKI LAUFEYSON

I know a lot of people think Thor’s mental health/PTSD was just played as a joke, but I don’t think it was. I mean there have been times they tried to sweep Tony’s mental health under the rug and times where (maybe just the fandom) treated Tony as a villain for how it showed itself.

Thor didn’t want to think about it. Thor was done. He wanted to drink and forget. He didn’t want people to talk about Thanos, or Loki, or anything that happened. He made a new home for all the Asgardians and then retreated into himself. When we first see him, Bruce stops and asks Thor if he’s okay and tells him that he was in a similar dark spot as well and that Thor was the one who helped him out. It’s a sweet moment, yeah it’s sandwiched by some jokes, but it's there. As is the moment when Thor talks to his mother for the last time. Frigga gives him piece of mind. Let’s him know that she knows what her fate is, that it isn’t his fault, which is one weight off his shoulder. She lets him know that he doesn’t need to be whatever he thinks he needs to be, just to be who he is. He doesn’t need to be an Asgardian King, or whatever else his father wanted, if that's not what Thor wants. Being himself is enough to be worthy. So he fights that final fight (completely okay in the fact that Steve is worthy as well, even saying he knew it! So he must’ve knew Steve was pretending not to be able to pick it up all the way in AOU), he makes Valkyrie/Brunnhilde King/Queen of Asgard, and he goes with the Guardians, because that's where he wants to be. He’s not being who he is supposed to be, but who he is. Which seems to be someone who wants to have fun and save people who need saving. Which I think is a nice mirror to Chris Hemsworth’s relationship to playing the character. He said that he prefers the fun, comedic Thor that Taika made with Ragnarok, and doesn’t as much like playing the uber serious Thor from previous films. He even said he’d be open to more Thor movies if Taika Waititi was directing.

While I hope we see Thor in Guardians Vol.3, and his story didn’t feel as final as Steve and Tony’s did, he did come full circle. From fighting tooth and nail to be a worthy king, to finally accepting who he truly is and being comfortable with accepting that. Sort of mirroring Loki.

Speaking of Loki...His scenes in this movie were definitely more humorous than anything. I know people wanted a better end for him. I’ll be honest, I liked his end in Infinity War (though I did believe he might still be alive because he didn’t revert back to his Jotun form when he died in IW). But for all the same reasons as Thor. He started feeling tremendous envy and hate for his brother and father, felt the need to prove himself, though he took a very different route than Thor, he got to a point where he accepted who he truly was. A Jotun, and an Odinson, Thor’s brother, Prince of Asgard. So to me, yeah it would be nice to see a different ending for Loki, (if they do bring him back I feel they either can’t kill him or have to kill him for real), I’m content with his entire arc.

BRUCE BANNER / HULK

Bruce has finally come full circle as well. He started off wanting to actually kill himself because of the Hulk, but now he has found the ‘Professor Hulk’ middle ground. He even says he sees it as an ‘evolution’ (X-Men reference/hint maybe??). After Ragnarok and Infinity War, something during those five years lead both Hulk and Bruce to accept each other. Just imagine how happy Hulk was when those kids came up asking for a photo. It’s no longer “Earth hates Hulk”. Hulk is a hero, he has fans! Young kids who aren’t scared. Bruce doesn’t have to be scared of running rampant and out of control and hurting innocent people. He doesn’t need to be locked in a cage. He can be completely who he is without holding back.

Bruce admitting that he tried to bring back Natasha with his Snap…oof.

NATASHA ROMANOFF / NATALIE RUSHMAN/ BLACK WIDOW & CLINT BARTON / HAWKEYE / RONIN

I actually really liked the beginning and how they handled Hawkeye’s story. Him helping Lila with her Archery and her walking out of frame, then when it cuts back to where she should’ve been only some dust particles in the air? Amazing, show not tell. We didn’t need to actively see Clint’s family dust away (honestly it makes it sadder that he didn’t see it either, didn’t know what happened, they were just gone). And we didn’t need a scene of him talking about it. We just got into it. The Ronin story isn’t my favorite but I’m glad too much time wasn’t spent on it and only the parts that mattered were addressed. That his family is gone and he’s angry. Natasha still cares about him deeply and has been looking for him.

Also..who puts mayo on a hot dog?

Natasha and Clint’s relationship is one that I really like. It’s this pure friendship and salvation from the beginning. Clint was the one who made the call to not kill her, but rather show her a different path. In Endgame, Natasha does the exact same for Clint. She takes him from being a ruthless assassin, angry at the world, to fighting for the good guys again. They are family. She is Aunt Nat to his kids, friends with his wife. She knows about his family and ‘secret’ life when no other Avengers did. It’s because of him (and Nick Fury) that she has a family not only in them, but the rest of the Avengers. But it just makes stories like Infinity War/Endgame and Civil War sadder for her because, almost all the other Avengers have a life outside of the team, and have families to go to, but not her. So when they break up, and aren’t talking, she is left alone. No wonder she stays at the compound. When Rhodey is telling her about Clint and she starts crying, it’s so sad, because he was her family and he just left.

Natasha and Clint literally fighting over who gets to sacrifice themself? Big oof. Natasha really makes me like Clint’s character in the films. And as much as I love the “refund theory” of Steve returning the soul stone to Vormir and getting Natasha back, and I would love a better send off (like with Thor) I think her story has really come full circle.

One of the biggest themes I noticed in her arc throughout the films is choice. When she was in the Red Room, she had no choice but to do what she was told, because of what happened there she doesn’t get the choice of having children or not. In Winter Soldier she felt like she felt like the choice of fighting for the ‘good’ guys was an illusion. Etc. But here is the biggest choice she can make, and she decided that she’d rather die so everyone else, everyone she cares about, can have a chance. She wasn’t going to let someone else make that choice for her. She did it despite Clint’s protest. She finally found something, someone she chose to die for. And the imagery of her on the ground not only mirrors her position in Tony’s vision from AOU, but the pool of blood draining from her is almost literally her getting the red out of her ledger like she mentions she wants to do in Avengers. “I’ve got red on my ledger. Now I need to wipe it out.” She has finally atoned for all the bad she has done.

I know she didn’t get a funeral scene or a big send off, but I think that was as to not overshadow or take away from Tony’s. Which is sad. Maybe we will get a better send off in a different film or show. We did get those lines from Clint and Wanda about hoping she knew that they did it, that her sacrifice wasn’t for nothing. Which is small, but it is the person who cared about her the most.

Also...did no one tell Clint and Natasha that they would need to sacrifice someone to get the stone? Surely Nebula knew...

STEVEN ROGERS / CAPTAIN AMERICA

“I can do this all day.” “Yeah, I know.” Even Steve is tired of himself.

Scott: “That’s America’s Ass.”

Steve, later, looking at his own ass on a past version of himself: “That is America’s Ass.”

My mind immediately when we heard Sam’s voice over Steve’s comm: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uB1D9wWxd2w

Also on that note... I absolutely love that Sam was the one that Steve choose to carry on Captain America’s legacy. In the comics both Sam and Bucky take up the mantle and I was sincerely hoping Bucky wouldn’t in the films. At least not at first. Bucky has so much interesting story to explore from when he was the Winter Soldier and still has so much healing to do from not only that time, but everything he was thrust back into when he was still settling in Wakanda..and being dusted. In the films, Sam is perfect to be the Captain America of modern times. He knows how the modern world works, he’s been in the military, dealt with war (both earthly threats and extra terrestrial), and I feel he’s emotionally/mentally stable enough for it. Hell he ran a veteran support group which inspired Steve to run a support group for survivors during the five years after the snap. Also, I don’t think I need to get into why having a Black/African-American Captain America in these times is amazing. I would love to see him in a movie, but if we get a live action show on the Disney+ streaming service, I think that would be great.

When they showed someone sitting on the bench, I was like okay that’s Steve. But how skinny and small he looked I thought it was going to be Pre-Serum Steve...but no, we got old man Steve. Which surprised me, it shouldn’t have but it did, because when he left and they couldn’t bring him back I leaned over to my sister and said “he stayed in the ‘40s”. But I had like 1000 thoughts running through my head every second of this movie. (except when the theater fell silent when Tony...ya know) It sorta reminded me of Logan for a hot second...

I’ve seen some people say, "It's not in character for Steve to live a life and not fight".

Every single movie has been building to Steve getting more and more tired of fighting. First he sacrifices himself for everyone else. Then he is woken up to fight in a war, and a world, he barely knows anything about, and starts seeing that privacy and freedom might not mean the same things they use to. That the governments meant to protect the people have even more secrets and lies, and are becoming more violent and ruthless. His whole vision sequence (and basically entire arc) in AOU was about how he needs war and to fight but how he doesn’t want that to be the case. He wants to go home. He wants the 40s. He wants Peggy. He wanted Bucky. He wants a family and a life. It hints that sometimes he may feel he doesn’t deserve it, or that the time for that has passed.

He didn't leave Bucky behind, Bucky knew full well what was happening and didn't seem too bothered. He knew and was happy that Steve had this chance. He loves him and wouldn't keep him from that. More than likely Bucky sees a future for himself as well, just not in the 40s. Bucky could have went back with him if he wanted to. But he didn't. Sam even offers to go back with Steve, Bucky standing right there and Steve says it's okay. Bucky doesn't protest. Bucky is smiling. Plus we don't know exactly what happened. Maybe Steve would have still fought here and there, maybe he did help that timeline/universe Bucky. He did still have the shield with him. Or maybe he was a house husband/dad while Peggy worked. Whatever he did he was clearly happy and content with all his choices and no one protested.

I actually really love this ending for Steve. He finally gets to rest. He finally gets the woman he loves. He can be content knowing the world is safe and that there are others willing to protect it. From the skinny, sick, kid who was always searching for a fight and felt he was (or had to be) alone in the world. He found a family, his love, a life.

TONY STARK / IRON MAN

I really love that for the scene in the 70s they used James D’Arcy to play Edwin Jarvis. He played Jarvis in the Agent Carter show, and I think most people who watch any of the shows know that the shows are payed dirt in the MCU movies. So as someone who loved that show, loved the characters and actors, seeing that was great! It intertwines the show more closely to the films, and it was nice for Tony to see the other man who raised him even for a second. Yeah it would’ve been nice to see Paul Bettany, but I feel he is more connected to J.A.R.V.I.S Tony’s A.I rather than the actual person of Jarvis.

I love that Tony gets a reunion/closure with his father (similar to Thor’s with his mother). Before his own untimely death, he gets to talk with his father and really see things through his eyes and learn what his mind set truly was. Now that he’s a father himself he understands a bit more the struggles Howard had, he knows Howards own self doubts. That despite everything Howard cared, and that Howard’s own father was cruel to him. And they get to share that last hug and is able to thank him! Just like he wanted to in Civil War. He gets to say I love you, and thank you for everything.

Peter says he “got all dusty. Then [he] must’ve passed out”. So like...no time passed for those who got dusted in the snap...

I was sorta hoping Tony would wield Mjolnir as well, but he didn’t :/ but it’s fine. He doesn’t need it. He wields the Gauntlet/Infinity Stones.

Something Kevin Smith brought up that I hadn’t really thought of was that Tony was completely set. While he definitely had regrets and felt guilty, he had a good life in front of him. He 100% could have just lived the rest of his natural born days out with his family and been as happy as he could have been. But seeing that picture of Peter, and knowing all that was lost, feeling guilty, and just being the self-sacrificial man he is, risked it all for everyone else. Knowing it could go wrong, he still did it.

Tony’s scene towards the beginning was the first time I almost cried. After he gets rescued, and they are talking in the compound. He is so skinny and in a wheelchair and hooked up to the IV. Cap starts talking, like he always does, and Tony just is not here for it. This is exactly what he said was going to happen, this was the culmination of all the PTSD and anxiety he has had for 8 years. It happened, he was right. No one wanted to listen to him. People gave him so much shit for Ultron and the Accords and literally everything that he has ever done, and this happens and he (pardon my language) snapped on Steve. It was heartbreaking. Because he tried so hard to prevent it. Steve told him they would lose together but he was alone. He watched the kid he cared about disappear in his arms, had no idea who else he cared about who could’ve done the same, and he was alone in space (well Nebula was there, but..he didn’t know her really, they were forced to get to know each other. Remember she showed up when they were already battling Thanos). He was suffering, believing he was going to die. No oxygen, no food, no water…and when he gets back Steve just wants to jump back in, and get information out of him? No. He has had enough. Steve lied. Sure maybe he didn’t mean to, but he said they would work together and then Civil War happened. He made a decision in that movie to be on the opposite side of Tony. I’m not saying that Steve wasn’t justified in his actions in Age of Ultron, or Civil War or anything after, but just that from Tony’s perspective, Steve was continuously putting other people and things in front of him. He probably thought that Steve would make an effort if they were truly friends, and if he truly cared Steve would’ve done more to salvage their friendship but didn’t. I have a whole thing with Steve and how he acted but I just know Tony was hurt, and one person he thought he could turn to, wasn’t there. And the line he closes out his rant with? “No trust, liar.” That hit like a ton of bricks.

When Tony asks Dr.Strange if this was the one they won, Strange says he can’t tell him or it won’t happen. But later Tony looks at him and holds up one finger, telling him this is the one. He told him because he knows that Tony already knows and has come to terms with what has to happen. Tony knows he has to get the stones and Snap Thanos away, knowing that it could kill him. So Dr.Strange just affirmed it for him. If he would’ve told him earlier, than Tony might’ve thought of a different plan, or thought he could make it out, maybe he would’ve gotten excited and cocky. That also means that from the moment Strange looked into the future in IW he knew Tony was going to die. Yeah he knew Thanos needed the time stone because the Snap needed to happen in the first place for them to reverse it, but he also knew Tony was going to make this sacrifice, and couldn’t die just yet. I always thought that Tony was the key after Infinity War, but now it explains why Dr. Strange’s demeanor changes after that.

I almost cried a lot during this film but I actually cried during Tony’s death and funeral scene. Bookending the entire saga with “I am Iron Man”. How Rhodey goes up to him, then Peter (Tom Holland never fails to make me cry when he’s playing Peter), mirroring the last moments in Infinity War, “We won. We did it Mr.Stark”. Then Pepper goes up to him, and has to look at him and he seems almost...catatonic. He isn’t responding, just staring at each of them. Pepper has to watch her love, her husband, the father of her child, die. But she still reassures and comforts him, telling him he can rest now… and i’m about to cry just writing this omg… Then the light of the arc reactor blinks out and you know for real that he’s gone. Tony leaves a message for them knowing his fate, book ending the film from the message he was leaving at the beginning of the movie, to the message he’s leaving for them now. He loves Morgan 3000. Just knowing over the years, Morgan and Pepper will go back and watch this message. Morgan will grow up knowing her father saved the universe with his own hands. They will probably have suits and old tech around that she will be able to look at and play with and tinker with (because you cannot convince me Tony Stark’s daughter won’t be as much of a tinkerer as him). The “Proof Tony Stark Has A Heart” display is sent adrift in the lake outside their home, Little Morgan sitting with her mom. And every person who Tony has come to know and love is watching. Millions more probably mourning all over the world (and in our universe as well). Tony started as an arrogant, genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, rich kid with more brains then he could handle, and become the self sacrificial saviour of the universe. He’s been through the worst things, kidnapped, tortured, betrayed, watched people die in front of his eyes, get hurt because of him, etc. But always was looking for a way to make things better for everyone else. He is 100% the heart of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Robert Downey Jr. is the heart of the MCU. Him and Jon Favreau and Kevin Feige took a chance on a movie that was guaranteed to do the best in 2008, improvised through a film with little to no script and built an empire. Robert is Tony Stark in sooo many ways other than both having rich and famous dads. Tortured, and regretful pasts that they rose above. I cannot sing the praises of this character or this man more. So I will end it here. It will sad to go forward without the character, but we really won’t be. Tony and Robert are cemented in every Marvel film and every film to come.

Thank you to all the creators, crew, directors, writers and actors. Robert Downey Jr., Kevin Feige, Jon Favreau, Stan Lee, Joe Simon, Jack Kirby, Steve Ditko, etc. <3 Thank you!

#avengers #avengers endgame #spoilers #endgame spoilers #marvel #tony stark #iron man #captain america #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #thoughts #personal #opinion #avengers spoilers

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winryofresembool · 5 years

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Edwin/dad!Ed one-shot: Girl Issues

Summary: Ed’s son Alan has been disappearing a lot from their house, and Ed tries to figure out why.

A/N: finally! This took like a million years. I hope you guys will still enjoy it :) Please let me know what you think!! (bing @automail-freak-and-alchemy-freak)

Edit: I forgot to say there might be a small “easter egg” hidden in the fic, about a movie some Edwin people have been talking about lately :’)

Words: 2450

Warnings: swearing

”Hey, Ed?” Winry addressed her husband who was cleaning the kitchen after the dinner. “Do you think Alan has been acting weirdly lately? He’s been doing… less mechanic work and gone out to town way more often…”

“He has?” Ed stopped putting the plates into the cupboard and turned to look at his wife, raising his eyebrows. “To me he has told that he’s simply taking some extra art lessons with Mr. Dawson because drawing blueprints has never been his strength.”

Winry crossed her arms over her chest and looked just as surprised as he did. “And to me he’s told he’s helping out some friends who have trouble with school… Something doesn’t add up.”

“Hmm. It’s not like him to hide things from us. I think I will call Mr. Dawson tonight and ask him if he’s really been at his house,” Ed decided. The conversation ended at that point because a loud crash could be heard from the living room, and Winry rushed to check what the twins had broken this time.

Only half an hour later, Ed, who was observing Emma’s alkahestry studies upstairs, heard the front door opening and closing. That let him know Alan had just left the building. He waited 10 more minutes, just in case Alan indeed went to the Dawsons, before dialing their phone number.

“Mr. Dawson? Hello! I’m calling you because my son seems to have been spending a lot of time there lately. Is he there right now?”

“No. And he hasn’t been here for the past two or three weeks, so I wouldn’t call that ‘a lot’,” a grumpy voice answered.

Ed narrowed his eyes at that piece of information, but he didn’t want to make Mr. Dawson too suspicious so he didn’t reveal the real reason of his call.

“Oh, OK. Well, thank you, anyway. And if he shows up, could you tell him to come home as soon as possible? Winry has a commission to finish and the twins are currently trying to kill me, so extra hands would certainly be useful.” The part about the twins was obviously a lie, as they were sitting surprisingly quietly in the living room listening to their father’s phone call, but the dramatic wording would probably get Alan home more easily. That is, if he ever got the message.

Winry glanced at Ed curiously when he finished the call.

“So? Did you find out anything?”

Ed shrugged. “Only that Alan hasn’t visited Mr. Dawson for several weeks. I thought he was enjoying his classes!”

“I thought so too,” Winry said, getting more and more confused.

“Did you talk to any of his friends?” Ed asked then.

“I just saw Jack, that boy from his class, down the street, and he said that if Alan had been helping someone, he certainly wasn’t among them. But you know, to me it sounded like he was hiding something from me.”

“Great,” Ed sighed. “So he’s been lying to both of us. What do we do about this?”

“I guess we should get him to talk. But how do we do it? He’s got your blood in him, you know.” Winry threw Ed a sly look that Ed had seen quite many times during their years of marriage.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Ed pretended to be hurt by Winry’s implications.

“Just that you have never been very good at expressing yourself, honey.” Ed snorted, because Winry and he had never been ones for pet names. “But also, since he’s more like you than you probably realize, you should be able to figure out the best way to make him open up. Was there anything that managed to crack your shell open when you were a teenager?”

Ed leaned his jaw against his hand, seeming to consider Winry’s question. His face seemed to have gotten some extra color when he spoke.

“Well, after the Promised Day… There was this girl who had been my friend since forever… She had even built me an automail leg and arm, so I could function… I knew she was upset because I couldn’t tell her what was happening in my life, but after the Promised day, when I felt it was safe to tell her everything… it was easier than I thought. Why? Because she made me feel she cared.”

“Ed… that’s very sweet of you…,” Winry said, completely surprised by her husband’s words and blushing slightly. She let her hand linger on his shoulder for a moment before continuing: “Anyway, I guess that means you should show that you do care about his wellbeing. I mean, deep down he must know that already, but you know, sometimes it’s good to say it aloud. He’s in a difficult age, but I know he really respects you and values your opinions.”

“I hope so,” Ed grunted, not quite believing her.

Until that moment, the twins who had been listening the whole time hadn’t said anything, but suddenly the 4-year-old Henry blurted: “We heard brother talking with big sissy today! He told her to ‘dis… tract you’, whatever that means, while someone comes to get him with a motorbike!”

“Really?” Winry asked, her eyebrows raising probably higher than the twins had ever seen. “Those two are almost as bad as… oh, never mind,” she added quickly when she saw the twins staring at her intensely.

“So that’s why Emma was so eager to show me what she had learned with Mei… She’s usually not that enthusiastic about it,” Ed noted.

“Makes perfect sense. Hey, my little king and queen,*” Winry ruffled her kids’ hair, “you didn’t happen to hear where they were planning to go?”

“No, mum,” the twins said in unison. “But I bet Emma knows!”

“We’ll just have to ask her, then.”

“No, dad, I’m not gonna tell you where Alan is. One, because I don’t know it either since they change their meeting place regularly, and two, because it’s none of your business.”

Emma took a book from her bedside table and pretended to be interested in it instead of looking at her father’s stare. Even though it didn’t work quite as well against her as it once used to, she still felt slightly bad about hiding things from him. Alan was right, though, their parents were too curious for their own good.

“Fine, then. Can you at least tell me with whom he is?”

Emma was positive her father would use what he liked to call “Elric telepathy” on her if she didn’t talk, so she let a little huff from her mouth and said:

“He’s gonna murder me, but… you would find out eventually if they continue doing this. You’re not gonna like this, dad…”

“Emma, just tell me already.” Ed was starting to show signs of losing his patience. Even though he had calmed down after having his children, the old temper still raised its head when he was truly annoyed or frustrated.

“Remember how Mei’s niece from Xing came to visit her and Al a couple of months ago because she wanted to learn more about Amestris and alchemy?” Emma asked, trying to be nonchalant but failing at it.

“Yes, wasn’t she Ling’s daughter?” Ed asked, not understanding why Emma had started talking about her. “Didn’t she have all those guards behind her all the time because she’s the daughter of the Emperor?”

“You are right, she was… Well, what you probably don’t know is that she decided to stay here in Amestris. She’s been trying to keep a low profile because she doesn’t want the media to follow her.”

“OK, but what does this have to do with Alan? I don’t get… OH!” The pieces of the puzzle started finally clicking in Ed’s head, and Emma could see his face taking a more and more dark red shade as he processed the information. “Are you telling me… my son… is seeing… that bastard’s heir?!”

“I told you, you wouldn’t like it.” Emma shrugged. “I thought you and the Emperor were friends, though? Doesn’t he always send you presents on holidays and stuff?”

“Damn right he does,” Ed suddenly stopped caring that he was talking to his daughter, “but that’s only because I once had to pay for a hell of a lot of food for him. He owes me.”

“Whatever you say…” Emma rolled her eyes. “Listen, please don’t be too hard on Alan. From what I’ve seen, they genuinely enjoy each other’s company, and Zhi is a nice person.”

“Fine. But I’m still gonna talk with him.” Under his breath, he mumbled: “what if they decide to get married? What if my son becomes a prince? What if…”

“Um, dad, I don’t know what you had in your mind when you were 15 but I really don’t think they are thinking about marriage yet,” Emma said, amused by her father’s exaggerated reaction.

“When I was 15, I was trying to save our entire country from Homunculi so it was a bit different!”

“Based on your stories, you were only trying to save Uncle Al, dad, and everything else just happened by accident.”

“That… might be true, but you shouldn’t say it aloud, Emma,” Ed gave her a fake hurt look. “I still punched the god on his face!”

“Whatever, dad.” She took her book again and hid her face behind it. “Just… could you go now so I can continue reading in peace? I have a test tomorrow I need to study for.”

“Would you like me to help?”

“Just go, please!”

Ed and Winry had already put the twins into bed when Alan showed up at home again. Winry remained calm on the surface even though Ed knew she must have been sizzling underneath her cool cover. She had always hated it when he and Al had hidden something from her and now, they were talking about their 15-year-old son… Ed guessed that it was normal teenagers acted that way, but that didn’t mean he liked it. He suggested Winry go to check on the rest of the kids while he’d deal with Alan.

“Alan, can we talk?” Ed asked, barely able to contain his annoyance. Alan looked like he sensed his parents had found out something, the guilty expression Winry had seen on Ed so many times giving him away.

“Now? Dad, I’m hungry as fuck, haven’t eaten anything since lunch so can I at least grab a bite first?”

“What’s with that language, young man?” Ed asked disapprovingly.

“Please, like you weren’t the one who taught me that word…” That was the truth, but Ed wasn’t going to let him get away so easily.

“I’ve always told you to not do what I do, not the other way around…”

“Right… Well, since you clearly aren’t allowing me to eat, you might as well get into the topic.” Alan crossed his arms just like his mother had a little bit earlier. That amused Ed a bit.

“We can always talk about it in the kitchen,” Ed noted, a small smile spreading on his face.

“So… what was it you wanted to talk about?” Alan asked when he had a full bowl of stew in front of him.

Ed looked serious again. “I think you know. Don’t think we haven’t noticed your disappearances lately.”

“But I’ve been…”

“We know you haven’t been where you were supposed to be. I talked to Mr. Dawson today and he told me you haven’t visited him for several weeks.”

“I’ve…”

“Listen, the sooner you admit it, the better. Do you want me to know the real story or the vague one Emma told me?”

“She told you about Zhi? Damnit, I’m never telling her anything again.”

“I think you are missing the point there, son.”

“Fine,” Alan finally admitted, as he was lapping the stew into his mouth. “Yes, I’ve been hanging out with Mei’s niece… who also happens to be the Xingese Emperor’s daughter.”

“And…?”

“And what? What are you expecting me to tell you? That she’s pregnant? That we are about to announce our engagement any day now? That I’ve decided to move to Xing and leave my family behind forever?”

“None of those things are true, right?” Ed raised his eyebrow suspiciously.

“Of course they aren’t! I like her, and we have a lot of fun when we are hanging out… But I do realize that she’s a princess from another country. And she knows the realities too. She’s gonna have to go back eventually. And when she does, she is in the constant focus of her people. That is not something I’ve ever imagined going through, but why does it have to mean I’m not allowed to enjoy this moment? I knew you guys would react badly to this, that’s why I didn’t tell anything.”

“Now we finally got to the root of the problem,” Ed said. “I don’t mind you hanging out with this Zhi girl… the princess… whatever… But I am upset that you have been lying to us for a long while now.”

Alan couldn’t help but roll his eyes in annoyance. “Like you’ve never had any secrets yourself…”

“I admit that when I was your age, I hid a lot of things from your mother, because I wanted to keep her safe… But I regretted it a lot. I could see she hated it, and it made me upset too. After the Promised Day, I was so relieved because I could finally share everything. I think it made our relationship stronger too.” Ed sighed before adding: “I’m not good at these things, but what I’m trying to say is that please don’t hide things from us just because you think we might not like what you are wanting to tell us. We are here to support you.”

“Dad, thanks… And sorry… for not telling you.” “No problem, son. I’m just saying what I wish my father had once told me.”

“Oh…” Alan hadn’t heard his father talking about his father a lot. He had just always assumed they had had a bad relationship. And this proved he had been right.

“So, now that we have dealt with that…,” Ed spoke suddenly, “about this Zhi girl… how far have you gone with her? Do I need to have the talk with you?”

“Dad, stop being so embarrassing!” Alan screamed and jumped off his chair. “I’m not gonna talk about that with you! Uncle Al or even the Emperor of Xing would give better advice than you!”

“Hey, take that back!” Ed growled, but Alan had already run away from the kitchen, and he was left to fume with anger on his own.

*Names Erika and Henry both mean rulers and I have a headcanon that the twins indeed are the rulers of the Rockbell-Elric household even though they are all a pretty strong willed bunch.

#edwin #edward elric #winry rockbell #my fics #fullmetal alchemist #woop #ps. ignore the typos thank

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ellana-ravenwood · 6 years

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The Break-Up (Part 1/4)- Bruce Wayne x Reader

Summary : That time the League, helped/lead by Smol Dickiebird, fixed Bruce and Batmom’s relationship.

Can you spot all the easter eggs (from my main Batmom stories) I scattered in this story ? ...You know what ? Let’s make it a game. Whoever guesses them all, I’ll write a story just for them. I referenced tons of other work with Batmom in this story, more than usual so...Yup :-). Anyway hope you’ll like it, and as usual, feedbacks are very VERY welcomed ! :

FINISHED SERIES : PART 2, PART 2.5, PART 3, PART 4

my master list blog : @ella-ravenwood-archives

__________________________________________________

Every time Richard Grayson came to visit his parents, siblings or “grandfather” (he came to call Alfred “gramps”, just to annoy him), nostalgia pinched his heart.

Whenever he climbed those steps to the main entrance, opened the big doors to come in the foyer, walked down corridors, rooms etc etc...memories of his childhood and teen years in the manor surged him, and filled him with a kind of sadness that wasn’t too terrible to endure.

A kind of sadness he always greeted as an old friend.

Nostalgia.

Heart tightening, and a stupid fond smile plastered on his face.

Every time.

You’d think after four years, it wouldn’t happen anymore, right ? But no.

Dick Grayson was a sentimental, and even though he moved out of his home years ago, and found a nice apartment in Blüdhaven, built his own home...It always made him feel weird to come back to the Manor.

Even more since he married his teenage sweetheart, Barbara Gordon, and got his first child (the most wonderful little girl in the universe ! Position she shared with his little sister Cass’ of course, who was so cute when she was still a kid ! Damian, aka “most protective uncle ever”, agreed).

Because now, with his job as a police officer and his nightly activities in Blüdhaven...He rarely had time to come “home”.

Well, that wasn’t really true.

He still came over at least four times a week and, on most week-ends, his family would come to his apartment to have lunch. And he often caught up with one of his siblings, or parents, or Alfred but...it wasn’t the same anymore.

He still didn’t see you as often as he used to. As often as he wanted to.

It was actually a tough change for him, to not be able to get out of his room and find one of you somewhere in his house.

He actually thought about asking his dad to buy an entire building, and then you guys could all live on one floor and you’d be all together always and...he quickly realized it was unreasonable and ridiculous.

It was just so strange that he couldn’t see any of you whenever he wanted. He was a “responsible” adult now (who bought legos for his daughter just so he could play with them too).

He grew up...and his siblings too. Hell, Damian was going to be seventeen !!

He had to accept that things were changing. Evolving.

It was awful.

...Though he found reassurance in the fact that some things actually never changed.

Like how much his parents were in love.

Dick had let himself in the manor and was looking for any members of his family, roaming the gigantic house.

He found Alfred asleep on his father’s office chair, a duster in one hand (the poor butler wasn’t getting any younger, and got tired easily nowadays).

Dick put a blanket over him and left the office silently, continuing his search.

He found you and Bruce in the main living room, asleep as well, on the couch, in each others’ arms.

You weren’t getting any younger either...and though his mom, you, was quite younger than Bruce, it seemed like you were the one who was getting tired the fastest lately...

You weren’t even fifty yet ! But in the past few months, you always seemed so exhausted and such...Dick made a mental note to remind you to rest more, and to stop taking care of them so much like that, it would kill you one day !

There was a note on the living room table. Dick recognized his youngest brother’s handwriting (elegant and classy). The note stated :

“Parents,

We went to Jason’s place to see his new motorcycle and to kick his ass butt ass (sorry Mom, for trying to watch my profanities :p (this stupid smiley was added by Tim Drake)) at Tekken,

Love you (Cassandra forced me to write that),

Damian, Cass and Tim.”

Dick smiled at the thought of his younger siblings playing Tekken.

That game always ended in “bloodshed” and fights, at the Wayne household (competitive kids)...until you would come along and win every game and settle their quarrel easily.

You were the best at Tekken, period.

Well, there was the sempiternel fight about who was the second best but you know...

Yes, his siblings’ antics always made Dick smile uncontrollably.

Another thing that always made him smile : you and Bruce, forever in love.

And as he was looking fondly over you two, at your embraced form on the couch, he couldn’t help but smile like an idiot and think : “relationship goal, right there”.

It was everything he aspired to have with Barbara. Your perfect relationship.

Haha.

Perfect ? Well, not always.

You were both too stubborn for your own good, and had quite a temper. A strong personality too, which meant that sometimes, fights happened.

Small ones about petty things, and big one over important matters...but it always ended up the same, wether it was about something small or big : with you two apologizing profusely, regardless of who was wrong, and then...going to...do...gross things in your bedroom (or whatever place somewhat private was available to you).

Dick shivered.

He was almost thirty and did some...uncatholic things with Barbara too but he could never not be be grossed out by his parents doing...ew.

Whatever, the important thing there, wasn’t that, but it was that no matter what, you’d always pull through. You always had each other’s back. You always made up, and your “perfect” relationship would only grow stronger each time.

You guys were made for each others, and it wasn’t a silly fight that would separate you two (Hell, every healthy couple fought from time to time).

Though...it almost did once.

Here’s a memory Dick didn’t particularly cherish.

That time he almost never had a second (amazing and perfect) mom.

That time you two almost made a decision that would have make the both of you forever miserable and bitter.

That time you almost ruined your life (Dick loved to be over-dramatic...though in this instance, he genuinely believed you almost ruined each others life).

************

Nearly twenty years earlier :

-Oh my God Bruce, get over yourself !

-I’m the one that’s suppose to get over myself ?! Please (Y/N), grow up !

This was terrible.

Dick had to do all the efforts in the World not to cry.

He had been living with you and Bruce Wayne for the past six months now (you moved in with Bruce after about a year of relationship...Eight months hidden from paparazzis and danger, four months officially together. It was Bruce’s idea. He loved you, you were almost always at the Manor anyway, you had an entire chest of drawers full of your stuffs...you might as well live with him !).

And though the pain of losing his parents was still vivid, his little eight years old heart felt he had another chance at life. Felt like he could still be happy.

Sometimes, he felt awful that, only six months after his parents’ death, he was already feeling better...but he couldn’t help it.

You, Bruce and Alfred made him feel like he was home instantly, as soon as he set foot in Wayne Manor.

Especially you, if he was honest. Bruce was busy, and Alfred’s English phlegm didn't go through Dick yet, just like Dick’s need for hugs and reassurance wasn’t clear enough for the butler yet. But you...

You were but (almost) twenty two years old and yet took full responsibility (well, almost too, Bruce was there too) of that lost (and adorable) kid.

Though you were barely an adult yourself, you didn’t hesitate one second about what you’d do when Bruce said he was taking Dick as his ward.

You just took care of him as if he was yours, without questions.

When he had nightmares, shivering in his bed, you were there before he opened his eyes and screamed. And you always convinced Bruce easily to let him sleep in your bed, between the two of you, when he was still too scared to fall back asleep.

You always asked him if he was alright, you listened to him, and to put it in a simpler way : you just loved him. You made sure he knew you loved him. Made sure he knew he still had a family.

In fact, you and Bruce were making him feel so at home that he almost called you “mom” and “dad” a few times.

...He wanted to call you like that.

But he was to afraid that it would mean betraying his own parents, betraying their memory ! Oh man, it was a lot to take for an eight year old boy, life wasn’t suppose to be that difficult at that age !

...It seemed though, like part of his dilemma would be no more soon, as he keeps listening to you and Bruce arguing in the living room, hiding on top of the stairs:

-I guess this is what I get for dating a goddamn child !

Bruce says angrily, and your face says it all. It looses all colors, and it seems to Dick as if you were deeply wounded by Bruce’s words...but too stubborn to actually show it, as you say :

-Oh. Child. Of course. It didn’t seem to bother you last night uh ?

-Completely unrelated to the subject.

-Oh really ?

-Yes really, and you know it (Y/N). You’re being unresonable. You know you’re wrong, and lack arguments, hence you start to talk about things that has nothing to do with the subject.

-Like you just did by stating that you’re dating a “goddamn child” ?

Dick couldn’t really understand everything you were saying (he was so curious about what you did last night though...a pillow fight maybe ? if the situation wasn’t so desperate, and made him feel so miserable, then he would have been vexed that you didn’t invite him to said pillow fight !), but his heart tightened at your every words.

He couldn’t stand seeing you two fight.

He wasn’t used to see you two fight...In six months with you guys, he only saw you argue about very petty things a few times, and immediately apologize.

But this time ? It seemed serious.

It was about Bruce’s night activities (Dick knew now that he was the Batman), and how he put himself in useless danger sometimes. How he needed to be more careful.

It was about Bruce not wanting you to meddle with this part of his life at all, even if he knew you were right.

It was about Bruce still being somewhat reluctant about letting you fully in his life.

It was about Bruce being an insensitive prick.

It was about you being too stubborn to let it go.

It was about you wanting to meddle with his night activities, because you cared about what happened to him, but also because you were vexed he was treating you like a weak child, trying to shield you from all of it.

It was about you not being experienced enough with his “dark side” yet to realize when to stay silent, or to know how exactly to tell him things.

There was a way to talk to Bruce. And you didn’t master it quite yet...it would take you a few more years for that really. Your boyfriend (soon to be husband) was a damn complicated man.

-Don’t tell me what to do (Y/N). I was upfront with you. You know this...is...my life work, and it comes first.

You stay in front of him for a few moments, in silence, taking his words in.

Bruce looks at you back, his face unreadable.

He knows perfectly well this is not the truth, that you and Dick are more important than anything else now...but he’s too stubborn to admit it, he’s still too used to his old lonely ways (even though he had you by his side for more than a year now...it had just been six months since you were here 24/7).

And he’s not sure he wants to let it go...Wouldn’t that mean betraying his parents ?

Finally, you say those awful words, that makes Dick want to cry even more :

-Fine, I think we’re done here then.

-Fine.

You glare at Bruce, and he gives you one of his infuriating arrogant look in return. It does indeed, infuriate you.

When you said : “I think we’re done here”, you didn’t mean “done” forever. You meant that there was nothing more to say. That this fight was over, and would stay unresolved. You meant...but it doesn’t matter what you meant, because he misunderstands and, struggling to hide how truly heartbroken he is, he says coldly :

-You know where the door is.

It’s a tone he never used with you before. It lacks love, awe, fondness, joy...it’s empty (just like he’s feeling now), and it hurts you more than anything else.

And from there...Things escalate quickly.

You both say things you do not actually mean. You both enter “self-defense” mode and starts to be genuinely awful to each others.

You both go too far.

Neither of you actually say the word “break-up”, but as you storm off the manor without even saying “bye” to Alfred or Dick, what is happening is pretty clear.

Sat on the floor in the corridors upstairs, Dick hears you leave in a fury, saying profanities he would never dare to say out loud.

He hears Bruce yell : “And don’t come back !”.

And all he can do, is stay there, “hidden”, crying softly. When Alfred finds him, a few hours later, for the first time since he came in the Manor, he takes him in his arms, and they stay like that for a bit.

Bruce sees them, as he climbs the stairs...but he ignores them. Silently, he goes and locks himself in his bedroom, trying to erase from his head the face of that poor little boy who’s crying in his butler’s arms.

For the second time in his life, Dick Grayson’s family is “dead”.

************

Dick doesn’t see you for almost an entire week.

The day after your departure, one of your friend came to get your stuffs.

Bruce wasn’t there...since you left he buried himself in his work, both by day and by night.

Bruce Wayne never attended that many meetings at Wayne Inc, and Batman never arrested that many criminals in the streets in such a short time span.

The poor man was exhausted, both physically and mentally...Dick understood. When he first arrived at Wayne Manor, right after his parents’ death, he never forgot the look his adopted father gave you, when he said : “I know things are difficult for you right now...but I promise it will get better. I know my words might sound hollow for you but...one day, you’ll see. One day, you’ll realize that the World is still spinning, and that you’re still able to love and be loved. I hope I will help, just like others have helped me”, emphasizing the fact that Bruce knew most of his happiness came from you being by his side.

But he was too stubborn to admit it, and therefor, worked even more.

Maybe he was trying to stay distracted, to keep going so he would never have time to actually think about what happened ?

Maybe.

Dick doesn’t hear anything about you for an entire week, when you finally call. It seems you knew Bruce wasn’t there, as you called on the Manor’s landline.

Alfred answers of course, and you two talk for a few minutes. It sounds to Dick as if the butler went through different feelings while talking to you, from despair to anger, finishing on a beaten note.

He comes to him, and gives him the phone, saying a flat and emotionless :

-It is Miss (Y/L/N).

Excitedly, Dick takes the machine in his small hand and says, voice full of hope :

-(Y/N) ?

It’s such a relief, to hear you say :

-Hey buddy, how’s it going ?

-Ok. When are you coming back ?

There’s an awkward silence, and he can feel by your tone that you’re choosing your words very carefully :

-I...I’m not sure I’m coming back kiddo.

HAHA ! “Not sure”. You didn’t outright say : “I’m not coming back”. You just said..”not sure”. This was something, right ? You continue :

-Listen buddy, what about I take you to the fair tomorrow ? And we can talk. Would you like that ?

-Yes ! Yes I would love that !

On the other side of the line, you can’t help but smile. Damn you missed that kid. But your smile soon turn sad and you say :

-I have to go right now, but we’ll talk more tomorrow ok ? Can you give the phone back to Alfred please ?

-Yes. See you tomorrow right ?

-Right.

-Promise ?

-Promise.

-Good. You can’t break a promise. Bye bye, I love you.

The words come out of his mouth faster than he can think and...he’s a bit embarrassed, but not too much. After all, it’s true. He loves you.

Your voice breaks a bit as you answer :

-Love you too buddy, love you too. See you tomorrow.

He gives the phone back to Alfred, and act as if he’s going back to his business, though he clearly tries to listen in on what the butler says.

Alfred though, knows better, and walks further away, and Dick end up only understanding a few cryptic words : “...ask him yourself...” “...miserable...” “...back...” “...his everything...”.

Soon enough though, being just a child, he forgets about it, and focus all heartedly on the perspective of seeing you again tomorrow. And at the fair at that ! He couldn’t wait.

He missed you so much, during that week of silence...

************

You end the call with Alfred and your heart is filled with nothing but sadness and pain.

You want to call Bruce, to beg him to take you back, to apologize, to...whatever really. You just want to hear his voice.

But you don’t. Because you’re too stubborn. Because he doesn’t call you either.

And man, why did you have to feel so bad about not talking to Dick in a week ? You weren’t his mom after all !!

Just thinking those words make your heart bleed. It makes you realize that things are truly over, and that you’ll...never...be...his mom. For the hundredth time that week, you go to bed early and weep all night...

************

Bruce is greeted by a very excited Dick who jumps in his arms and goes on and on about what he’ll do the next day. Automatically, Bruce catches him and lifts him up in the air, holding him against his chest.

It takes the Batman a few minutes to finally understand why, for the first time in a week, his boy seems so lively.

It’s you.

Of course, it’s you.

It’s the prospect of seeing you again.

For a split second, Bruce’s heart beats faster, and it almost feels as if he’s going to be the one seeing you tomorrow.

But the dark reality slaps him in the face fast enough. He won’t see you. Not ever. Not after all the things he dared to tell you...

And oh he regrets every single words, oh he wishes he was brave enough to call you and beg for your forgiveness...He would do anything to get you back, he would do anything you wanted. He would even stop being Batman, if that’s what it took and...But it wouldn’t happen.

He was too cowardly, too proud and stubborn, to actually call you and apologize. To actually give himself another shot at “being happy”.

It couldn’t happen anymore. He had his chance, and he blew it. It was destiny bringing him back down on Earth. You’d be better off without him. That was sure. It’s as if life was telling him : “you’ve been a selfish bastard, you knew your relationship with her wouldn’t actually go anywhere, and you played with her...this is your punishment. Karma’s a bitch”.

And as Dick was going on and on about all the things he’d do with you at the fair, it dawned on him that...vacations were over.

You left, forever.

He had to...

-DO YOU THINK THERE’S ROLLERCOASTERS AT THE FAIR ?! DO YOU THINK I’M TALL ENOUGH TO RIDE THEM !!?? DO YOU THINK (Y/N) WILL BUY ME COTTON CANDY ?!

Just talking about you made him want to end it all. That’s how much he loved and missed you. He’ve had enough of this life of pain and misery. When you came in, you eclipsed (almost) the darkness...if he didn’t make a promise to his parents, that he would spend his life avenging them, he’s not sure he would still be alive.

He listens, keeping silent, to Dick’s ramblings about you, and about what you guys are going to do. Alfred fills him in on what you said on the phone, how you asked to see Dick and take him out for the day.

Bruce doesn’t say anything. He couldn’t bear the fact that the boy would be able to see and touch you, while he himself would never be allowed to do that ever again. But what could he do ? Stop Dick from ever seeing you again ?

You’d never allow that, loving that kid too much. And besides...it wasn’t this poor little eight year’s old fault, your relationship didn’t last.

Why should he be punished for something he had no control over ? Bruce shook his head and chased away his selfish thoughts.

Of course he’d let Dick see you.

But...Was it really fair to do so, knowing you wouldn’t be there for him as much as you used to ? Was it fair to let him have hope of you ever coming back when Bruce knew it would never happen ? He didn’t want the boy to be hurt...

Maybe he shouldn’t let him see you.

No. This was ridiculous. You...

-Do you think I’ll be able to convince her to come back, eh, Bruce ?

Lost in his thoughts, it seemed as if the Batman lost track of the conversation, and didn’t hear a big chunk of Dick’s ramblings. He couldn’t remember how the kid came to talk about you coming back...Oh this wasn’t good.

He gives a desperate look to Alfred, but the butler isn’t looking back. In fact, he’s turned away from his “master”, in an obvious “You got yourself in this mess, handle things yourself” way, and slowly leaves the room.

Bruce turns to Dick’s painfully hopeful face, and say :

-I...I don’t think she...wants to...wouldn’t want to...

He stumbles on his words, and it seems to encourage the little boy. Yes. This was his time. He had a week to rehearse his speech, but didn’t dare to say anything...but now ? Now it was the time :

-Bruce, we don’t know that ! You didn’t even call her. You guys didn’t speak calmed down yet. You know when people are angry, they say stupid things. Which is what happened. There’s still a chance, and if you want her to come bac...

-No.

Bruce understood where the boy wanted to go. And he had to rip any hope from him, now. Otherwise, it would become dangerous.

Bruce understood that Dick was about to try and convince him to make a move, to try and get you back. He guessed easily that the kid was about to tell him that he’ll talk to you tomorrow, to plead his case. That he’d help in any way shape or form.

Bruce knew that Dick was about to go on a rant about how they should try again, about how there was still...hope.

But Bruce knew better. He was convinced he would never get you back, he knew he went too far, pushed you away one too many time...He knew you thought his Batman activities were more important to him than you or worst, than Dick, and he knew you couldn’t forgive him (at the time, it seems he didn’t fully understand you yet...but you two were still in the “early stage” of the relationship of course).

And he had to destroy all hope. He had to be blunt, though dishonest.

-...No ?

Dick said in a small voice, not understanding. Closing his eyes, Bruce got on his knees and put his hands on the boy’s shoulders. After a deep sigh, he said :

-I...don’t want (Y/N) back. And I meant what I told her.

-No Bruce, you love her.

Dick’s innocent look, and the way his voice sounded so sure of his statement...almost make Bruce cracks. The man almost breaks down and tells all of his feelings to his kid but...he’s just a kid. A tiny eight years old. He couldn’t burden that boy with his pain like that...And so he shakes his head and says :

-No Dickie. No. I...Loved her. But those feelings are...gone...now. We’re...we’re not together anymore. We broke up. That’s how life is. Sometimes...you...just have to move on from good things and...or...good things turn into bad...I don’t want her back. And she doesn’t want to come back. You heard her, we’re done. It’s over.

Every single stumbling words that came out of his mouth was a struggle. But he thought that his cold tone was pretty convincing. He thought that Dick and his young age would buy his lies easily (clearly underestimating him). He gets back on his feet and ruffle his boy’s hair, taking the direction of the Batcave (he needed to think about something else than you right now).

Dick looks at him leave, tears welled up in his eyes...and more determined than ever.

************

Of course, his failure today could have had convinced him to abandon all hope.

But...no, never. He knew he was right.

That morning, you came to pick Dick up. You thought you saw Bruce looking at your car from behind his bedroom’s curtains but...It was probably all in your head. Wishful thinking. You wanting him to miss you...but for what ?

You wouldn’t get back together.

The vision of that little eight year old boy excitedly going down the Manor’s stairs, a backpack in his hand, and rushing in your car lifted your heart.

For the first time in a week, you didn’t feel too terrible. Hell, you even caught yourself smiling widely at Dick !

You feel a bit bad for not going out to say “hi” to Alfred...No, that was an understatement. You grew so close from the man, while you were dating Bruce...it physically hurt your soul to not go out to hug him and catch up...but what if Bruce was there ?

You couldn’t risk it. And so you just kinda nod at the butler from your car, and drive away, not noticing his pained expression.

The morning flies by so fast, you don’t even realize it’s already noon, only Dick’s belly grumbling gives you a hint.

And it’s there, while you eat lunch, that he attacks.

He talks about Bruce, observing your reaction. But just like your boy...ex-boyfriend, you cut his sentences short.

There is no “(Y/N) and Bruce” anymore, you’re not getting back together.

Dick can tell you even less words than he told Bruce...And yet.

Yet it doesn’t discouraged him.

It should have had. But it doesn’t.

A few months ago, Dick started his training with Bruce. One day, he too would be a night vigilante ! And one of his first lesson was this : “Always observe the situation, always know your ennemies”.

He would have never thought but today...his ennemies were the people he loved most in the World.

You and Bruce.

He triggered emotions in you by talking about getting back together, and he was now convinced that you both loved each other but were too dumb (later he’d know that “dumb” wasn’t the right word...”stubborn” was...well, stubbornness was dumb) to apologize and fix things yourselves !

Or maybe too scared ? Not brave enough ? No. Impossible. Not you two. It wasn’t that. You were really just...too dumb.

By telling you guys he would try to get you back together, he made sure that you were still in love. And obviously, you were.

You both thought you were way better liers than you really were.

Dick could see through you two. When you said “we’re not going back together, I don’t want too, and he/she wouldn’t either anyway”, all he could hear was the “anyway” signifying that there was still a kind of wish to be back together, that you were just afraid it was a one-way thing...

Yes. Months of training actually taught him a lot.

Dick was slowly becoming a detective. And theory had no secrets for him...The “know your enemies part” was over. Now came the part he...didn’t know so well.

The action.

He was still too inexperienced in that. He wasn’t sure how to act...after all, he was just an eight year old boy.

And he couldn’t ask Bruce for help, as he would usually when he was in a delicate situation, because Bruce was part of the problem...

It took Dick a few days to come up with a solution.

What did Bruce always said ?

-If you’re in deep and big trouble, and I’m not here to help...Call this number. Ask for Superman and tell him everything. He will help. He will fix things.

This definitely counted as “deep and big trouble”. And Bruce couldn’t help. And he needed someone to help him fix things...

Dick waited for Bruce to leave for his nightly activities, and for Alfred to look away (Dick wasn’t sure yet if Alfred would agree with him and his plan and...he couldn’t risk the butler to stop him. Of course, he would never do such a thing, because he wanted as much as Dick for you two to get back together, and he actually “looked away” on purpose but...well, he couldn’t blame the kid for being unsure, after all, Alfred didn’t talk much about what he thought of the situation, things being too hurtful for him to...).

He dialed the “red number” Bruce gave him.

A voice he didn’t recognize fused from the computer :

-Member N°2. Batman. You’ve reached the League headquarters, how can I be of service ?

With an hesitant and small voice, Dick says :

-Hum...Can I...talk to...Superman ?

-Member n°2. Batman. You asked to talk to Superman. Getting you through...now.

There were a few agonizing minutes where Dick thought Superman wouldn’t pick up but...Finally, his face appeared on the computer. He seemed a bit panicky, and when he noticed Dick in front of him, seemed to get even more panicked :

-Dick ? What is happening ? Are you ok ? Is Batman ok ? What is the danger ?!

Dick took a big breath to give himself courage and said, more determined than ever :

-No, I am not ok. And Batman definitely isn’t either. And the danger...it’s his dumb self being too dumb to realize he’s taking a dumb decision !

To be continue...

__________________________________________

I wrote this in a surge of inspiration. It’s very late, I’m tired, and it’s pretty bad.

I didn’t write anything in almost three weeks (it’s easy to guess, I’m a bit rusty and this story is...b.a.d, especially the end of this part), so of course when I get back at it it’s an awfully long story...Anyway, this is why I cut that story in half. I know writing long ass one shots is my style, but that one really was too long :-).

See y’all soon for part two, hoped you liked it and that it didn't disappoint you after my “long” absence.

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amandajoyce118 · 5 years

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The Punisher Season 2 Easter Eggs And References

Yes, I know. You don’t have to tell me that the second season of The Punisher dropped on Netflix a month ago. Surprisingly, this last month has been extremely busy for me. Birthdays, family stuff, changes in management at my day job, changes in editors (thrice!) at my freelance job, plus prepping my tax stuff has left me with very little free time. I finally managed to finish the second season this weekend (and I started Umbrella Academy, which is really interesting, but something I’m not familiar with, so no Easter Eggs on that one, sorry!) and finish writing up Easter eggs as well.

As usual, there are spoilers, but I went episode by episode with the Easter eggs. Anybody worried about spoilers has probably already watched the show at this point. I feel like I was probably the last one out there who hadn’t watched. Despite it taking me forever and a day to watch the show, there’s still a chance I didn’t catch everything, especially since the Punisher doesn’t seem like a show with a lot of in-universe Easter eggs.

Happy reading!

S2E01 “Roadhouse Blues”

The Van

Oh, look. Pete AKA Frank is using a van full time. In the comics, the van houses a wide variety of weapons and surveillance equipment, but Frank isn’t quite that high tech without the help of someone like Micro around. He also calls it the Battle Van.

Lola’s Roadhouse

It’s probably just a coincidence, because Lola is just one of those names that pop culture junkies seem to love, but… who else thinks it might be a nod to Coulson’s favorite car in Agents of SHIELD?

Fiona

Some people will try to find the Marvel character that is “Fiona,” but again, I think this one is a coincidence. Why? Fiona is a weirdly popular name in comics. There’s a Fiona who is an Inhuman who can fly. There’s a Fiona who founds the sisterhood and hates men. There are also Fionas who are artists/writers/pencilers/etc in real life. I think this is just a case of them picking a pretty name.

Michigan

It’s the last place anyone would look, you say? Kind of like how it’s the last place anyone seems to care about because Flint still doesn’t have clean water? Yep.

S2E02 “Fight Or Flight”

Pete and Rachel

I like that Frank is still using the name Pete, but can we all laugh for a second about how these two are Pete and Rachel? It makes me laugh because these are two characters in friends. Pete only asks Monica out because he overhears Monica and Rachel talking about their love lives (or lack of them). Pete, funnily enough is like a Tony Stark character here: wealthy, throwing money around to get what he wants, buying women buildings, etc. He’s also played by Jon Favreau AKA Happy Hogan in the Iron Man movies. It’s one of those things that’s not meant to be a connection, but proves you can find “Easter eggs” in anything.

Rachel AKA Amy

Amy is based on a comic book character, but she’s been completely changed for the show. In the comics, she was a little girl who saw Frank escape a crime scene and promised him she wouldn’t tell anyone. He helped her out a few times as well. But, like I said, completely different. (Of course, the use of the name Rachel, and some of her later story gives a nod to another comic book character as well. We’ll talk about that later.)

Larkville, Ohio

Clearly based on Clarkville, Ohio. They thought leaving off one letter would make it less obvious? Anyway, here are some fun facts about Ohio in the MCU. It’s where there was a secret wing of a prison for powered people (thanks, Agents of SHIELD). It’s also where Coulson and company went to get information about CENTIPEDE (again, thanks Agents of SHIELD). Lincoln Campbell tried to escape Inhuman life as a doctor there (again, Agents of SHIELD). It’s also where Bucky sarcastically remarked Steve Rogers was from for one of his many fake ID’s to get in the army (Captain America: The First Avenger). And, it’s also where Helmut Zemo tracked down a super soldier in hiding (Captain America: Civil War). So, what I’m saying is, if you’re interested in lying low in the MCU, you don’t go to Ohio. Someone will find you.

Billy’s Memory

Billy Russo’s memory being jumbled, or having gaps, provides a nice storytelling device, but it’s also a nice nod to the comics. His memory was manipulated, or he was brainwashed, a few times. The only thing that restored his memory those times? Fighting the Punisher, of course.

A Jigsaw Puzzle

Lots of puzzle references to Billy, and with good reason. In the comics, he’s Jigsaw. The guy gets thrown through a plate glass window and his face is put back together like a jigsaw by a surgeon. He takes on the name and vows revenge.

Billy’s Mask

His mask is more than just to build suspense by covering up his face. You’ll see there are red and blue colors on the sides? It’s meant to be a nod to an art therapy practice that’s become helpful in treating soldiers with PTSD as a result of their work. Soldiers are instructed to create a mask to show people what they’re feeling on the inside, even if they can’t say it. National Geographic did a whole piece on how the work has been helping people. I wrote about it in my Jigsaw list, briefly.

S2E03 “Trouble The Water”

129

The door number that is clearly visible when Billy breaks out of the hospital with his therapist’s help is 129. To be fair, most house numbers, door numbers, and phone numbers are completely random. This one might be a coincidence. But… Amazing Spider-Man issue 129 was the very first appearance of the Punisher. Jigsaw AKA Billy Russo appeared over 30 issues later in the same series. It seems purposeful.

Mahoney

Look at Mahoney, making the rounds still. He started as a character on Daredevil and has worked his way through the Netflix shows.

The Pilgrim

That’s the name given in press releases to the religious villain who has some, uh, questionable tattoos removed once upon a time. He’s not a specific comic book character, but a lot of people have compared him to the Mennonite from the old Punisher comics.

S2E04 “Scar Tissue”

WHiH

The world news station of choice in the MCU, this one gets more attention in the movies. It’s covering news from every corner of the globe. Recently, it’s made its way into the Netflix shows, Agents of SHIELD, and Runaways as well.

WJBP TV

Another station in the MCU, this one is local. It’s typically only seen in the Netflix corner of the universe, so it’s usually covering New York news.

The Kitten Hanging On The Branch

I’m sorry, but did anyone not see one of these posters if they grew up in the United States? Nice nod to the inspirational poster schtick the public school system has. I think I saw it in guidance counselor offices at every school I went to.

New York Bulletin

Yes, the Bulletin is still going strong despite losing a lot of its staff in the second season of Daredevil.

Amy AKA Rachel

Okay, so despite looking like a nod to the little kid who keeps Frank’s secret in the comics, this character also appears to be a nod to Rachel Cole. She ended up in the middle of a gang war and became a vigilante, falling in with Frank.

Baseball

So, Billy had a thing for baseball? You know who else had a thing for baseball? Dex AKA Bullseye in Daredevil season two. Nice job keeping your sociopaths on theme, Netflix MCU.

S2E05 “One-Eyed Jacks”

Three Card Monte

I have a hard time believing that Frank Castle, marine, killer, and all around street savvy dude, doesn’t understand how Three Card Monte works. Then again, maybe no one has tried to swindle him with cards because they value their life. Who knows? Anyway, I found this version interesting because most people who hustle with it want you to “find the lady” as the queen of hearts. Here, it’s the queen of diamonds. I’m not sure what that says, but it’s interesting. (Also, I feel like Amy AKA Rachel and Skye AKA Daisy would get along. It reminded me of the sugar packets and Mike’s ID in the Agents of SHIELD pilot).

Turk Barrett

At this point, if you don’t know who Turk is, I’m just going to assume you haven’t seen any of the Netflix shows before. In which case, why are you reading these Easter eggs? Go start watching from the beginning, and then come back.

Oh, sh1t!

I think it’s cute that for all her life as a hustler, she doesn’t use actual curse words, but instead, speaks the way teens might curse via text.

S2E06 “Nakazal”

“You could always burn the place down.”

I feel like this is a nod to how arson tends to be a last resort for Frank in the comics. He prefers to go in, guns blazing, and just take people out. There are a few stories where he’s torched whole buildings, but they usually are just a minor thing in a major story arc.

Anderson And Eliza Schultz

Not comic book characters, but they do share their surname with Herman Schultz AKA the Shocker. I think that’s probably not a big connection. Instead, it’s more likely that the writers liked the name, and as a bonus, it gives them a nod to comic creators Charles Schultz (Peanuts) and Mark Schultz (art for DC, but also really big in indie comics).

I’m not going to list all of the political commentary in this episode, but whew. They really went for it.

S2E07 “One Bad Day”

The Title

“All it takes is one bad day to reduce the sanest man to lunacy.” Or at least, that’s what the Joker believes in Batman’s The Killing Joke. It’s one of the biggest Batman stories ever, so I’m thinking the title is no coincidence. I also think a few staff members are Batman fans since the kid in the first episode also had a Batman backpack.

Fragmentation Grenade

An interesting choice for a weapon since in the comics, Jigsaw gets healed a few times, only to have his face ruined again by the Punisher. One of those times is the result of a fragmentation grenade.

S2E08 “My Brother’s Keeper”

The Fatal Shore By Robert Hughes

The book Amy reads when she’s bored in the trailer is actually about the founding of Australia. History teaches us it was a penal colony - the place where criminals were shipped to start over - but there were already Aboriginals there, which made for quite the conflict. Someone like Amy probably would have found the crime, the hustle of the whole thing, interesting, but she doesn’t strike me as someone who would be into history, so it’s no wonder she put it down.

“He did everything he could to you to make sure you suffered for the rest of your life.”

Yes. This is exactly why Frank leaves Billy alive in the comics. He kills everyone who had a hand in the deaths of his family - all but Billy, even though they weren’t as close as brothers in the comics. He leaves Billy alive so that the guy can suffer, but also to serve as a warning to anyone who comes after him. Billy spends a lot of his story arcs either trying to get revenge, or trying to get his “pretty boy” looks back.

S2E09 “Flustercluck”

Valhalla

Do we say this is a nod to the Thor franchise, or do we just accept that the world at large has the idea of Valhalla as paradise? Your call.

“I’m not the one that dies…”

I’ll confess Punisher is not my comic book cup of tea, but I feel like he said this line in a comic once. I could be wrong.

S2E10 “The Dark Hearts Of Men”

The Title

Pretty sure this is a nod to a Bible verse about humanity. But I’m not up on my Bible knowledge and a google search just gives me a bunch of reviews of this episode, so I’m sorry this isn’t more specific?

“Drunkards Prayer”

This is the song that plays when the Pilgrim is both fighting and recovering from his fight. It’s a song about wanting to be pious, but knowing you’re an addict. And it fits with his character pretty well. AJ McLean (of the Backstreet Boys) covered it once, if you’re interested. I think you could also apply it to just about any character in Castle’s world - people wanting to be better, but unable to leave the bad things in their life behind. And no, I won’t dissect every song choice for the season, but this one stuck with me.

Making Castle Believe The Worst

Making the Punisher believe he killed innocent people is straight out of the comics. It’s one trick a villain uses to bring him down, though ultimately, he figures out he wasn’t the one responsible. That looks like the same thing here with Castle believing he killed the women and the therapist’s “I know how to break Castle” thing.

S2E11 “The Abyss”

Queens

I find it interesting that the Punisher is frequenting Queens a lot in this season. (The warehouse where he gets arrested, as noted in the radio broadcast, is in Queens.) Why? Because he was introduced in a Spider-Man comic and frequently crossed paths with the web crawler. Where is Peter Parker from? Queens.

Karen Page

Karen’s appearance as Frank’s “lawyer” here muddles the timeline a bit. We’ve all been thinking this occurs after season three of Daredevil. That season ended with Matt and Foggy reforming Nelson and Murdock, but with making Karen a partner as well. Never mind that she doesn’t have a law degree or anything like that. But, Karen introduces herself as representing Nelson and Murdock. Maybe her name isn’t in the business because she’s not a lawyer? Or maybe this is actually set before that? Who knows? It’s all very ambiguous.

Sacred Saints Hospital

While this hospital didn’t appear in another episode, the Sacred Saints Cemetery did, and I wonder if they’re connected to one another? Sacred Saints is where Elektra was supposedly buried, which gives us a lot of Daredevil connections in this episode, huh?

Matt Murdock

Frank mentions the man himself while talking with Karen. I feel like this is more of a reminder that Frank knows Matt is Daredevil than it is a legit comment on the state of Matt and Karen’s relationship.

Karen’s Shoes

Not an Easter egg, but I like that the payment to the morgue tech/assistant medical examiner was her very expensive shoes, not something tropey like drinks with him. Thank you, writers. This was cute. Also, it gave Karen the means to run around the hotel easier and not be held back by her heels.

S2E12 “Collision Course”

Mr. Blue

The only thing I noticed in this episode was the nickname given to Billy by the florist. It’s actually the alias Betty Ross used in the comments when Bruce Banner was a fugitive and she tried to stay in contact with him. Probably not intentional, but you never know.

S2E13 “The Whirlwind”

“...pull your spine out of your throat…”

In the “Space” stories for the Punisher, he does something like this to Ultron, funnily enough. He reaches into Ultron’s mouth and pulls his core out, not his spine, through his throat.

Dive School In Florida

Okay, I couldn’t find any characters associated with the Punisher who spend a lot of time in Florida, but I can tell you Florida made its first appearance for Marve in Marvel Comics #1, that Man-Thing is from there, and that Captain Marvel spent time there working for NASA. Florida has also popped up in a few episodes of Agents of SHIELD. It’s where Joey (former SHIELD ally and Inhuman teammate) lives, where Elena has friends, and where May and Coulson pretended to be married to steal a painting.

The Final Shot

That final image of Castle in his Punisher vest opening fire has been in several comics. It’s clear it’s intentional.

Stan Lee

The final episode closes with an “in loving memory.” Not really an Easter egg, but worth a mention. While Stan Lee did not create the Punisher, he had a hand in his name. Originally, Frank Castle was going to be called the Assassin. Lee thought they should go for something a little less on the nose, and coined the Punisher.

A few notes for the season:

Castle never purposely uses lethal force against law enforcement. I guess that’s supposed to make us believe that his killing of all the bad guys is acceptable.

The support group that Curtis leads? One of my favorite things is that there are a lot of flyers on the bulletin boards behind them for things like free puppies. A lot of these guys would do better (not suddenly be whole again, but maybe do a little bit better) with an emotional support animal. It’s proven that having an animal to come home to can actually help you live longer. It’s one of the reasons there are groups that take animals into children’s hospitals and retirement homes for people to play with.

The season finale actually feels very final to me. I think this might have been the only one of the MCU Netflix shows where the writers thought they might not come back? Because it seems like they closed everything up nicely instead of teasing something else down the line.

That’s all I’ve got this time around. The next Easter egg list on the horizon for me is, I believe, Captain Marvel, which should be up the same weekend it releases since I’m seeing that one opening night.

#punisher #punisher season 2 #punisher easter eggs #marvel easter eggs #easter eggs

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