#I suspect what I actually miss is my dad but we're not talking about that right now

[alittlebitofrainbyyourside]

Syn and I were talking about how like- okay, I've probably talked about this before but like- ..... I largely view myself as an NPC? I know this is insane, it is life. you live with a brain like mine and try /not/ viewing yourself as an NPC.

anyway, I view myself largely as an NPC and Syn and I were talking about how this made me uniquely a pretty damn good fit for working retail. Sometimes I tell people that I had a good time working retail and they assume that like- oh, it was a matter of privilege working in a great place- I was a visible dyke in a trump loving place where people open carried guns. The owner had a trump flag in his office. I want you to say that to my face. One time, in early 2020, a customer came in while I was cleaning the shelves and started yelling about how we were all sheep for believing in covid and I blinked and went 'you see these shelves? I'm trying to do some spring cleaning before they walk out of here themselves.' the problem with any individual customer trying to ruin my mood is that like... I was an NPC. I genuinely operated on the assumption that if you were being a dick, there was nothing I could have done to change that. People yell at shop keepers and quest givers all the time. They're dicks. But that's not a *me* problem. Yell, get the fuck out. I'm not going to hold any baggage from that because it wasn't about me. I also happened to work at the kind of place that customers absolutely expected and knew there was a gun under the counter- so like... I'm sure that did keep a certain kind of riff raff under wraps. it was old timey enough of a store that like- you had to manually do a lot of the items? you just had to know the prices of almost everything. Very few things scanned in and out- like cigarettes. Cigarettes scanned- chewing 'bacca did not. I had to know the prices of all the 'fresh' food items off the top of my head. I had to know how much soda cost off the top of my head. if I was lucky, the rarer items had prices on them that i could manually type in. Which meant that I *loved* to fuck up prices for people I liked. Oops. Did I ring that up wrong? You'll never know Jim because your cash register at the end of the day is only a list of prices, there's not even items attached for you to be like '.... hey. why is candy selling for 10 cents'- because it's for a single mom that's why Jim.

We made hotdogs? and had icecream and like, chicken salad and shit like that- so you also had to know alllll the info on how to make those things and you had to juggle running the cashregister /and/ making food sometimes. Sometimes there was someone specifically there to do food- especially during like 'lunch rush'. but only sometimes. and you'd get calls for like 'I need 100 all the way hotdogs, and two without chili' and you'd look at the clock and go 'you gonna be here at 2?' and they'd say yes and you'd get to work making 102 fucking hotdogs and trying to fit the paper bags into the food warmer so that they're still warm when some construction worker inevitably rolls in and is like 'yo the foreman called ahead?' If you were unlucky, it would not be '100 _____ hotdogs' and instead it would be like '4 all the way, 2 ketchup and mustard, 4 mustard, 3 ketchup and mustard' and you'd mentally curse the fact they didn't do the mental labor of grouping together all the like hotdogs together for you. and it was always this fun chaotic challenge. my job as an NPC was to make it happen for them. To make their day easier, to get them their gas and their food and get them out of my store with a joke or a smile. I always get so ????? when I see people complaining about like 'ugh don't make x joke to cashiers, they've heard it 100 times that day' and I'm like- man, my dad (a career cashier/store manager/person depending on when in his life you're talking) taught me those were the best. He loved a script. He loved a repetitive joke, something easy to respond to. and honestly, when I'm behind the counter- Same. Same.

I dunno man. Sometimes I miss it. There was something... so interesting about the juxtaposition of like- because it was the kind of store it was- We were something so vital and essential to these people's day- and yet we were also in some ways largely invisible. And for other people, we were the most important interaction that they would have that day. Customers would come in and if you'd been missing and go 'you're back! I came in yesterday and they had so and so up here, ruined my whole damn day.' Dad always talked about how like, for regulars, you were the person they counted on seeing on their way to work- or before they went home. You were a transition that helped them switch gears, and so you wanted to make it a positive interaction. You wanted to make them feel like they mattered, if only for a minute. That kind of job suits my NPC-brain very well.

[green-fifteen]

Boomerang

tags: platonic stobin, stobin child, OC, teenager problems idk, not!fic

word count: 795

@stobinmonth prompt: school

I'm thinking about Steve as a middle school teacher only because it's my favorite level to teach. How innocent they are! How evil they can be! And what a nightmare when his own kid shows up in class.

And, okay, Jules would want me to tell you that Steve is NOT her father, he just raised her with her mom and has been there every single day since she was born. It's an IMPORTANT distinction when the man in question is contractually obligated to teach her peers about condoms.

Right after the D.A.R.E. convocation the first week of school (a totally sexless function!), Kelly Nesbit made a button in Home Ec. that read, "JUST SAY YES TO MR. HARRINGTON" with wobbly little hearts in the O's. So you can imagine the kind of thing she is dealing with, here.

She sat her parents down the weekend before 6th grade to let them know the situation.

"Dad, you're not my father."

"I'm not?"

"You're very important to me, but we both agree that I am not related to you."

Robin cut in. "Okay so who am I? By your logic."

"You can be my mother, it's fine. It's on all the paperwork, you enrolled me."

"You do know my signature is on your birth certificate, right?" Steve reminds her.

"Unimportant. I won't be bringing my birth certificate to school and showing it off to my friends. If we're careful, we should be able to pull this off."

Robin and Steve shared a wary glance.

"And what are we pulling off, exactly?"

"Convincing the school that I am not related to a teacher." She gestured at Steve with a offensive amount of dismay. Robin made a mental note to have that 'terrible role model' talk with Erica that she'd been putting off.

Steve was eventually manipulated into agreeing when Jules said something like, "Aunt Nancy was right. She said you'd never agree because you're overly attached to me."

(Which I'm sure you can guess Nancy did not say. Her actual words were like, "If you ask him to pretend he doesn't love you at school, he might actually start crying in the hallways.")

So they don't speak to each other at school outside of 4th period, when Steve is careful to only call on her as much as he would any other student. No one suspects a thing for just over a month, at which point Jules manages to step all over her own careful plan.

It's something like this: it's 4th period. The bell is about to ring and Steve is handing back module one tests from the week before. Jules gets hers and just stares at it for a solid minute. He took off two points for that? FOUR points for THAT? And you see, Julia Buckley is something of a whiz and a perfectionist. A sense of indignation begins to build as she looks over the rest of the marks Steve left on her paper. And sure, she did get some things wrong. But what's the point of your dad being your teacher if he doesn't even let the small stuff slide? It's outrageous.

When she sees the little note at the bottom of the paper, a scribbled nonsensical little Good work, Bluejay! her frustration boils over.

"Dad!"

She yells into the quiet classroom. Everyone turns to look at her and then at Mr. Harrington, who is frozen with his handmade "BEST DAD" mug an inch from his lips. He looks like a raccoon caught in a floodlight.

"Do you think I don't know what peer pressure is? I wrote you a very clear definition. Do you even have a rubric? I want to see it."

Someone laughs or she notices the looks on their faces and realizes she's really done it now. She only has two choices. She can either insist she called the teacher Dad by mistake in the most humiliating way possible and endure the shame of hearing her classmates giggle and spread it all over the school for the rest of the week. Or, she can own up and buy herself a much longer, slower mortification. One that doesn't let up until graduation.

Steve eventually clears his throat. "No rubric-- just the answer sheet, Miss Buckley. If you have a problem with your grade, please see me after class."

And she decides right there, 'Bluejay' in his messy scrawl and 'Miss Buckley' in that strained tone of voice.

"Why bother?" She rolls her eyes and tries to sound casual. "I'll just see you at home."

She doesn't stay to appreciate the wide, surprised look he gives her or the astonished little whispers of her peers. The bell rings like a sign from God and she high-tails it right out of there.

[zuko-always-lies]

Azula's Strong Emotional Empathy Skills

Often times, people assume that Azula is bad at empathy, or at least emotional empathy. However, I would dispute that, and argue that her compassionate empathy skills in particular are actually extremely strong and off the chart, at least when it involves someone she cares about.

ATLA gives several examples of Azula showing off her empathy skills. The first comes in "The Crossroads of Destiny":

Azula: We've done it, Zuko. It's taken a hundred years, but the Fire Nation has conquered Ba Sing Se. Zuko: I betrayed Uncle. Azula: No, he betrayed you. [She stands up from the throne.] Zuko, when you return home, Father will welcome you as a war hero. Zuko: But I don't have the Avatar. What if Father doesn't restore my honor? Azula: He doesn't need to, Zuko. [She puts a hand on Zuko's shoulder.] Today, you restored your own honor.

She notices Zuko is uneasy, and does a pretty good, if not entirely successful job trying to reassure him and make him feel better.

Next we come to "The Awakening":

[Meanwhile, back at the Fire Nation Capital, Zuko feeds turtle ducks in a lake with some bread. Azula joins him.] Azula: You seem so downcast. Has Mai gotten to you already? Though actually, Mai has been in a strangely good mood lately. Zuko: I haven't seen Dad yet. I haven't seen him in three years, since I was banished. Azula: So what? Zuko: So, I didn't capture the Avatar. Azula: Who cares? The Avatar is dead … [Zuko looks away.] unless you think he somehow miraculously survived.

It's easy to miss out on this with where the scene ends up going, but what's actually the inciting reason for the scene to happen in the first place is that Azula knows Zuko is out of sorts, and wants to reassure him. She knows exactly where he is likely to go when he's sad or anxious, the turtleduck ponds which reminds him of Ursa, and easily finds him there. However, in her attempts to reassure him, she begins to suspect that he's hiding something from her, and the scene gets derailed.

Next up is "The Beach":

Zuko: [Cut to closer view of Zuko and Mai. Angrily.] Doing nothing is a waste of time. [Rises from his seat next to Mai.] We're being sent away on a forced vacation. [Walks over and grips the railing of the boat.] I feel like a child. Azula: [Frontal view.] Lighten up. So Dad wants to meet with his advisors alone, without anyone else around. Don't take it personally.

Azula instantly tries to reassure Zuko here, although she's less skillful about it than in some other cases.

Next up is the famous "Azula apologizes to Ty Lee" scene. As I've argued elsewhere, Azula is very skillful in comforting Ty Lee there. She knows exactly what she needs to say and do to make Ty Lee feel better.

Then, after Zuko gets kicked out of the party, we get this scene

Azula: I thought I'd find you here. Zuko: [Side-view.] Those summers we spent here seem so long ago. So much has changed. Azula: Come down to the beach with me. Come on. This place is depressing.

Azula's empathy is really impressive here. She apparently not only realized that Zuko would end up in a bad funk and cared enough to do something about it, but she also knew exactly where he would go in his depressed emotional state.

We then have the famous "fireside" scene. Azula isn't always the nicest person here, but her ability to understand the emotions of others is on full display:

Zuko: [Turning around.] For so long I thought that if my dad accepted me, I'd be happy. I'm back home now, my dad talks to me. Ha! He even thinks I'm a hero. [Close-up of Azula, who smiles.] Everything should be perfect, right? [Aerial view of campsite.] I should be happy now, but I'm not. [Turning back to the others.] I'm angrier than ever and I don't know why!

Azula:[Frontal view.] There's a simple question you need to answer, then. Who are you angry at? Zuko: [Close-up.] No one. I'm just angry. Mai [Side-view of the three girls.] Yeah, who are you angry at, Zuko? Zuko: [Close-up.] Everyone. I don't know. [Becoming frustrated.] Azula: [Frontal view.] Is it Dad? Zuko: [Close-up.] No, no. Ty Lee: [Frontal view.] Your uncle? Azula: Me? Zuko: [Close-up.] No, no, n-no, no! Mai: [Close-up.] Then who? Who are you angry at? Azula: [Camera pans left, past Ty Lee, to Azula.] Answer the question, Zuko. Ty Lee: [Close-up.] Talk to us. Mai: [Extreme close-up.] Come on, answer the question. Azula: Come on, answer it.

Finally, we have this scene from Nightmares and Daydreams:

Azula: Hello, Zuzu. If you've come for a royal hair-combing, I'm afraid you'll have to wait. Zuko: So I guess there's a big war meeting coming up, huh? And apparently I'm not welcome there. Azula: What do you mean? Of course you're welcome there! Zuko: Oh, yeah?! I guess that's why no one bothered to tell me about it! Azula: Oh, Zuko. Don't be so dramatic. I'm certain Dad wants you there. You probably just weren't invited because it's so obvious you're supposed to be there. Zuko: Well, were you invited? Azula: Of course! I'm the princess. Zuko: And I'm the prince! Azula: Exactly, so stop acting like a paranoid child! Just go to the meeting. Zuko: Forget it! I'm not going!

Although Azula instantly moves to try to comfort Zuko, this is in many ways her least successful scene. She struggles to contain her frustration with Zuko's behavior.

Still, overall Azula displays an impressive record, and shows very strong compassionate empathy skills. However, it's only toward the people she's close to, as she has no reason to display them toward enemies.

[mk-wizard]

Transformers Excerpts: The "Reconciliation" Wedding Venue and Visit

Optimus is blindfolded while being lead by Salty and Elita-One while Hotrod opens doors...

Optimus: Everyone, I'm supposed to be looking over venues for the wedding. I don't have time for games. Salty: We know, which is WHY we brought you here! Optimus: *removes his blindfold*... Whaaaaaaaaaaat?!

*Everyone yells "SURPRISE" and is the owners of Daisy's Doughnuts, Uncle Nipi's Curry Cafe, Auntie Lin's Dumpling Den, Mario's Pizza, Henry's Pancake Palace, Ronald's Burger Circus, Mr. Moto's Sushi Lounge, Hanz & Heidi's Beer Haus, Wes' Fried Chicken Shack and Cal's Surfing Sailfish Snack Bar...*

Cal: Three cheers for the happy couple! *raises his Blue Hawaiian while they all cheer* Hanz: As soon ve all heard you and Elita reconciled, ve vere so happy and heard you needed help vith zhe venue especially fo zhe human guests. Wes: So we came with several dishes to serve. We even dressed them up a little, mon! See? Daisy: And Henry and I came with this for a groomscake *they wheel it in* It's a doughnut-pancake cake. Optimus: Wait, you all KNEW Elita and I were divorced?! How did you figure it out? So far, nobody even suspected we were. Salty: I uh.... I broke my oath and told, them Optimus. Three days after the divorce was official. I had to. They were all worried sick about you. Nipi: You did not come by to eat at ANY of our restaurants or even place for THREE days! Moto: We all thought you were sick, injured or even missing, Optimus-sama. Daisy: The only person who ever saw you at all, was ME and all you would order was black coffee. Not your usual skinny latter with five shots and three milks with extra chocolate flavoring. Not that the news of you being divorced was anymore comforting. Mario: You're like family to us, so finding that out was heartbreaking. Lin: Please, do not be angry with Salty for breaking his oath. Optimus:... I'm not angry. I'm touched. I was afraid everyone would turn up their noses to us reconciling because it's not the popular thing for divorced to do, but instead, we're not only supported, we're being assisted. Thank you, friends. And thank you, Salty. Hotrod: Can we eat now, dad? Optimus: Ha ha! I have to admit it looks great and I think it's all perfect for our wedding. Ironhide: I agree. *is at the doorway leaning on it like a cowboy* Optimus: Ironhide... Ironhide: Greasy pizza *picks up a heart shaped one* Oversalted and overspiced curry *knocks over a bowl* overdressed salad *knocks over a bowl* And funny smelling burnt to hell chicken *smells and whoofs before throwing a drumstick away* All absolutely perfect 'cause it's all GARBAGE just like the bride. You could do better, Prime. Elita-One: *looks ashamed* Hotrod: My mom's not trash! Mario: Why you big- Cal: Whoa! Dude, chill! Nipi: He is Optimus' to deal with. Optimus: Ironhide, can we talk outside? Ironhide: Aw, kicking me out? I thought you wanted me to be a part of the wedding party *chuckles* Optimus: Outside. Now. Please?

*They go out...*

Optimus: Ironhide, why are you so against this reconciliation? You and I were in the same boat. And you know better than anyone how much I love Elita-One. Don't you want me to be happy? Ironhide: Yeah. That's why I'm trying to boot up your system. You're being a darn fool, Prime! Don't you remember what Elita and Chromia did to us?! Optimus:... I do and I admit it will always hurt to think about it, but then again, so will the things I did to Elita, to Hotrod and everyone else. I became a warmonger who was willing to leave my own to die. I almost left Goldbug, Bumblebee then, to actually die! I have just as big a stain on my soul as Elita. I will not be holier than thou or weaponize her sin. I have long since forgiven her. Maybe it's about time you forgave her too and... Chromia too. Ironhide:... I think I get it now and you know what, you're brilliant, Optimus. Optimus: *smiles* Ironhide: All this here's just part of your grand plan. Optimus: Grand... plan? Ironhide: You're doing all stuff, all this prep and you're making sure everything is perfect to get even. Optimus: I don't understand you. Ironhide: You're planning revenge! Optimus: Excuse me?! Ironhide: When the big moment happens and Alpha Trion asks the question, you're gonna go "NAW!!" and walk out. Optimus: No! Ironhide, I really am going to remarry Elita-One! I am absolutely serious about all this! I LOVE her! And I wouldn't do something that diabolical to her if I did hate her! Why would you think I would do such a thing?...............................!! Ironhide, what did you do? Ironhide: *smirks wickedly* I proposed to Chromia. She said yes. You shoulda seen her faceplate. Optimus: *turns pale* Ironhide, are you going to... No! *puts his hands on his head* Ironhide, you can't do that to her! It's EVIL!! Nobody deserves that! Ironhide: SHE does and so does that tramp Elita! You wanna be a sucker for her Sharkticon tears? Go ahead! I intend to laugh last! Optimus: No! I won't let you! *grabs his shoulder* Ironhide: If you stop me from doing this, I'll do something WORSE to your special day! *he leaves* Optimus:.... I'll take that risk *turns on him com* Chromia, there's something I need to tell you....

[lollipencil]

In The Pale Moonlight: What If....Cloned?

This idea just popped into my head, and seemed real sweet, so @harleyification, hope you like it!

Enjoy and be gentle ---

To say that none of them had expected the atmosphere in the cave when they drove in was an understatement. Jake wasn't a part of the night's mission, but what little he knew, it sounded perfectly routine. Infiltrate and dismantle a hidden lab doing shady shit.

Quick and easy.

Yet tension hung in the Batcave. "Anyone injured?" Jake asked immediately upon exiting his limo. "Nothing worse than some scrapes," Bruce rasped from his chair at the Batcomputer. "Then, what's with that look?" "...It would be better if you saw first."

Seeing as Bruce wasn't giving a straight answer, Jake sighed mentally to a just-woken up Marc and followed him to the curtained medbay. Jake walked through, and stared.

A small child sat on the bed. Her little feet kicked slightly as Jason and Cass taught her the basics of ASL. Behind her, with a gentle and well-practiced hand, Damian was washing grime that had been caked into the fur of her tail. Already cleaned ears on the top of her head showed the shape of colouring of a white tiger.

At Jake's entrance, she turned to blink up at him with very familiar eyes. "Oh hey," Jason greeted casually, "Look who's finally here." "Found baby," Cass signed to Jake with a soft and lightly mischievous smile. "So, you're my dad," the girl stated more than asked. "...Looks like it," Jake eventually managed to get out.

Smoothly, she pushed herself off the bed and walked up to Jake. When she started to make grabby hands, Jake automatically bent to pick her up. Behind his eyes, he could feel Marc as if he were pressed up against a window as he held her close.

Jake let the switch happen, Marc's arms remained firm and gentle around their unexpected child. For a moment, she blinked up at Marc, before settling with her head under his chin with a soft sigh. Tears formed in Marc's eyes at the feeling of her soft ears twitching against his neck. "I take it Oracle's busy with decryption," he whispered. "Indeed," Alfred walked over with an icepack and handed it to Jason, "And until she is done, I think our young Miss would feel more comfortable upstairs. The cookies should still be warm."

As everyone walked into the elevator, Damian took the opportunity to whisper, "If any of you ever treat her anywhere near how Superman initially reacted to Superboy, I will show you true suffering." "We'd let you."

---

Walking home, Greer Nelson could feel that something was going to happen. Anticipation tingled up her spine. Her eyes didn't stop scanning for unseen threats all the way to her door. Then it surged as soon as she closed the door behind her: "I know that you're there." "I know," a voice replied, "I'm just here to talk."

The sight of a Gotham celebrity in a vigilante's garb was not what she'd expected when she flicked the light on in the living room. "Please tell me you're aware that you're not wearing a mask," Greer stated. "Yeah," Marc Spector-Wayne otherwise known as Moon Knight nodded. "And you're maskless in my apartment, because...?"

He swallowed and parted his cape. White tiger ears framed a small face that held his eyes and nose. "Your DNA was used by a...suspect laboratory in Gotham," Marc explained, "We're here about custody." "'We'?" "He might look like only one dad, but he's actually three," their little girl (who's name Greer needed yesterday) piped up. "Part of the agreement is me explaining what she means by that."

For a moment, Greer took this in: "Ok, I'll order pizza, you're paying." At the slackening of Marc's shoulders as he produced his wallet, Greer prepared for a long night. But, hopefully, one that was worth it.

[tobiasdrake]

Here we are. No employees, no jobs, and the mafia shaking us down for rent money. I'm surprised Yakou even made it to Blank Week.

Don't mind me. I'm just having a long, poetic depression at the spot that will one day become the location for the submarine I'll be so proud of, symbolizing how far I've come from this moment. Well, my homunculus will. I don't actually know if I'll get the sub before or after I'm torn to pieces in gruesome, apocalyptic violence.

I hope he enjoys it.

If you're the coroner, you should know that you're a day early. I still have until the end of the day to get the mob boss his cash, so you and I won't have business until tomorrow.

D'aww, is this going to be the story of how Yakou and his wife met? I thought it'd be the story about how she died, but I like this better. We know enough about how she died. I want to hear about how she lived.

What I'm hearing is that if you turn out to be a sketchy fucking bastard and I decide, upon knowing the facts, not to solve this case out of spite, I still get paid a cool 100k.

That's a good deal. Given the look of you, your stern-sounding voice, and the context of being an old man hiring a P.I. to hunt down a young woman without explaining anything about who she is, what her relationship to you is, or why she's ghosting you? I'd say there's a strong chance of this being sketchy.

Like. Best case scenario, this guy's her dad who she bailed on because he's a domineering prick. Worst case scenario, he's a romantic stalker who she ghosted because he's a gross asshole who won't take no for an answer. Maybe it's more complicated than that. Maybe she stole something of value from him or something. I dunno. But those are the immediate kneejerk assumptions that leap to my mind.

There are very few good reasons for wealthy old men to go to these lengths to track down young women that vanished from their lives. He's gonna pay Yakou a million shien to un-ghost this woman. That's not a great sign. We should look into him as much as we are looking into her.

Yakou, of course, smells nothing out-of-place with this business transaction because a) he's desperate and b) his values are too patriarchal to even consider anything amiss about this. It just doesn't occur to him.

He even knows her place of business, but can't approach her himself. He wants her brought to him.

We're literally taking on the role of a paid thug.

RED FLAG

Yeah, this guy's definitely the bad guy here. Yakou's going to have a change of heart when he meets her. You can feel it.

And when he does, we still get paid 100k! ~( ˘▾˘~)

WHAT THE FUCK IS OUR RENT!?

I'm sad now. ._. If a million only covers six months, then that 100k won't even cover one. The math doesn't work out to that.

Maybe, if we play our cards right, we can trick the mob boss and the client into murdering each other.

Wow, he found her fast. To be fair, this is his specialty. He's highly trained in tracking down lost pets and cheating spouses, and both of those vocations offer skills that are transferrable to finding a "missing" person that's just out living their life.

The hard part's going to be convincing her to come with us. I'm pretty sure the client is expecting us to simply club her over the head and stuff her in a van. But you know Yakou's going to talk to her instead. As he should. This is sketchy as fuck.

Good man. Get her perspective before you decide what to do with the case.

ABORT. ABORT. YOU HAVE FAILED THIS SOCIAL INTERACTION.

It's such a... rare treat for Kanai Ward! A ha ha ha ha I'll leave you alone forever now.

There we go. Coming right out with it.

There's no subtle way to bring up in casual conversation, "Do you know why someone might hypothetically want you dragged in front of them against your will?" Especially as a stranger. If we want her story, this is the only way to get it.

She's surprisingly chill about this. Is this encounter more harmless than I'd suspected? Or is this simply the resignation of someone who has been harassed multiple times and is used to it by now?

I appreciate how forthright Yakou's being here. Laying all the cards on the table. If the job's harmless then I'll see it through but if this is shady then please tell me and I'll bow out. That's his position, and it's exactly what he's conveying with no room for misunderstanding.

It's. Refreshing to see such clear and open communication happening in a story.

Alright, that's a fair reason. By "rival organization", she's probably referring to the Unified Government's own homunculus research lab. We're five years after both labs began their experiments but two years before UG's lab will create their first successful homunculus, and Huesca will manslaughter the entirety of Kanai Ward trying to keep up.

Oh, I hope she is an unparalleled visionary in the field of homunculus research. Just for the bitter irony of Huesca having her killed and then dumbassing the experiment so hard that he killed himself and everyone else in the city.

"An ass" is underselling how awful Huesca is. It's nice to know that even before this became a fascist police state, Amaterasu was still just as awful as--

HOLY SHIT SHE'S WEARING PANTS.

Y'ALL. Y'ALL.

SHE'S WEARING PANTS.

I. Think. This might be the first female Kodaka character in history to wear pants. This DLC is a momentous occasion.

Still doesn't have a name, though. She may have had to trade her name for pants.

[honeysuckle-venom]

Hi Lior! If you'd like to answer, could you share some of your experience around reality-testing, pertaining to psychosis? Be well <3

Thank you so much for this fantastic question!

So reality testing/checking (I tend to say reality checking but I think they're the same thing? Unless you're asking about something else in which case please send another ask letting me know) is definitely one of those controversial things, and I've had both very positive and very negative experiences with it.

The biggest thing for me with reality checks is that I have to a) consent to them and b) get them from someone I trust. The only person who can consistently offer me reality checks in a way that is safe and helpful for me is my therapist. I will occasionally ask for them from my father and certain friends as well, but that can be more hit or miss/sometimes even when I ask for them it doesn't work (though it rarely backfires if I've explicitly asked first). Unasked for reality checks, though, can be deeply distressing and dangerous for me. I'm likely to believe that whoever is saying my delusion isn't true is out to hurt me/plotting against me/"in on" the delusion in some way if I didn't ask ahead of time, and that they're only telling me I'm wrong to lull me into a false sense of security before attacking.

I also have a different level of tolerance for reality checks depending on the type of delusion I'm experiencing. Persecutory delusions are the ones I'm most likely to ask for reality checks during, because I want reassurance that I'm safe. I'll often ask my dad if he thinks my delusions are real and why/why not when I'm experiencing paranoid/persecutory delusions surrounding people out to get me, people watching me, imposters, and/or the world being unsafe/unreal. These are delusions about external threatening forces, and reassurance that I'm safe from them can be quite helpful if I've asked for it. The other main type of delusion I experience is kind of a combination of a persecutory delusion and a delusion of grandeur, in which I believe something about my identity and/or abilities. The most common of these for include believing I'm Drusilla, believing I'm a fae changeling, believing I have prophetic powers, etc, and often I also believe I'm being targeted in some way because of something special about my identity. These often have much more complicated emotions tangled up in them, usually a combination of terror and euphoria that is very hard to untangle and deal with, and I almost never ask for reality checks with these delusions, as doing so feels extremely threatening to my sense of self. When I'm deep in these delusions, especially my recurring one in which I believe I'm actually from a fairy tale world, it is not safe for me to receive reality checks. Even the idea of someone telling me I'm wrong feels deeply dangerous to think about. I haven't yet fully untangled why that is, it's something we're going to get to in therapy, but in the meantime I know that receiving a reality check during those delusions would cause dangerous spirals. I suspect (and this is just me spitballing bc again I still have to talk about it in therapy) there might be something about how psychosis is originally a response to the threat of annihilation of the self, and so when I have beliefs that have to do with my sense of self and that sense of self is threatened in any way it further triggers me.

So yeah, reality checks for me depend on who's giving them, if I asked for them, and what type of thing is being checked for. When done correctly they can significantly help me calm down and feel safer, but if any of the elements isn't perfect they can cause dangerously increased psychosis and feelings of danger and fear.

I hope that answered your question! If you meant something else by the term reality-testing, please let me know and I'll try to answer what you meant!

[swatthefox]

Poker Night Valentino: Oh oh! Romeo you should tell da guys dat story yous were tellin' me earlier! The one about you's hot great-grandad's case! Romeo: I dunno, I'd hate to bore anyone one. We're here for fun, not old stories. Leon: *Gets visibly excited* Wait that's right! You're great-grandpa was a private eye right! Redd: Groans Oh here we go…. True crime. Leon: Ya gotta tell us! *Frank and Cerb excitedly nod to Romeo* Romeo: Oh ok, well so back in the 40's my grandma's dad was a former police officer turned private eye. Funny how these things turn out huh? Anyway, he had one case the cops were totally bungling. An elderly mother reported her daughter as missing. Thing is *takes a puff of his cigarette* because the daughter's husband said his wife was on a trip they couldn't do anythin', even though all her friends said she didn't say anythin' like dat. Cerb: *leaning closer to the table* I feel like I should be doin' some art right now. Frank: *nods* Yeah for real. Leon: *Absolutely enthralled* What happened next?? Romeo: Well, my great-grandad was able to actually talk to his client's grandkids, none of 'em were happy. Said they were the most scared kids he had ever seen. Followin' dat hunch, he did a steak out with his friend, a big buff guy. He was in a spot where he could see right into the man's bedroom window. He noticed several times throughout the day he'd disappear into the bedroom closet. As soon as the man left to drop off his kids at school and head to work, my great-granddad broke into the guy's house and checked out the closet. Frank: W-What was in the closet? Romeo: A coffin, dude just nailed some wood together, inside da coffin was his wife's decaying body, his client's daughter. Leon: I knew it! So he killed her?? Romeo: Hold on, I'm gettin' to it! *takes another hit of his cigarette* So my great-grandad called his contact in the da police. Thanks to his tip they were able to enter the house and arrest da husband. When neighbors were interviewed they complained that the man could be heard crying several times throughout the day. At first, they suspected his wife was cheatin', but then dey started smellin' somethin' awful coming from the house anytime he opened his bedroom window. Redd: Ugh, it musta been awful. Romeo: Grandma mentioned he nearly gaged. But yeah so they arrested da husband and he had some kinda mental breakdown. What da cops were able ta gather from da kids and their dad's insane ramblings was that his wife fell down da stairs holdin' their youngest in her arms. She took da brunt to save her kid but she broke her neck in da fall. Da client's son-in-law snapped seein' what he saw. He said he was gonna try to bring her back. Had some weird book on magic. He was gonna hold her body for a few nights and on da full moon he was gonna do some ritual and bring her back. Poor guy just couldn't be without his wife. Frank: What happened to the kids? Romeo: The journal said dat they were takin' in by my client's other daughter. He tried not to take any money but the old lady just slammed it on his desk and left, he never heard from any of 'em again. Cerb: You should host a podcast! Frank: *starts laughing* Valentino: Da hell is a "podcast"? Redd: Nothin' you need to worry about. Ya'll don't have the patience to sit that long and talk anyways.

[thehappilyeverafter]

6/26/23 Cold War: Part 2

Background

A couple months ago, I entered another cold war (perhaps inappropriately named) with mama. This post attempts to document the context, e.g. my justification, for posteriority; I find that I'm not actually able to remember quite why the first one occurred years ago. I only remember the arguing loudly with her and strong feelings of frustration in Portland, after an already infuriating conversation with my dad.

What Happened

My mom cracked her phone a few months ago in early April 2023. She ended up going to the Apple store to get it repaired on April 7. She called me twice around 12:12 pm because the Apple employee needs access to the iPhone/her Apple ID account. However, I don't pick up because I'm napping.

I call her back when I do see the two missed called at 1:20 pm. However, this call goes straight to voicemail. I text her "Sorry I had a meeting" to excuse my missed calls. But I'm not too worried about her situation. I received emails that her Apple ID password is reset, so I surmise that the employee was able to resolve the issue and that the phone is likely under repair at the moment. I also received an email containing information about the repair appointment and estimated pick up time of 2:15 pm. Consequently, I decide that everything is fine and I will just call her afterward to apologize for missing her calls.

I call her at 4:10 pm and received no answer. I called her again at 6:55 pm and still no answer. I call her the next day on April 8, Saturday at 5:08 pm and still no answer. I believe I also asked my sister to try calling her and that that was unsuccessful as well. I call her again on April 9 at 3:18 pm and still no answer. Finally, I text her at 3:19 pm asking her if she's receiving my calls but receive no response. I suspect she is intentionally ignoring me, but I want to be absolutely certain before instigating an argument. I ask Uncle Kenny to call her to confirm she's OK. He gets back to me indicating that he was able to successfully call her and talk to her and that she's fine. I have my confirmation.

Finally, at 9:52 pm on Sunday April 9, she texts me "Call me". I call her at 10:12 pm and we have a 10 minute argument. It turns out that my suspicions were correct; she has been intentionally ignoring my calls as some form of retribution for me missing her two calls on Friday. During the phone call, I had the impression she was ready to move on (after all, she did ignore me for 2 days), but I wasn't. I told her that missing two phone calls did not justify her behavior toward me and that I wanted an apology. She didn't understand that I had been privy to the repair information via emails e.g. it's success despite my inaction and its specific times. She did not understand why I was so upset or why I felt that she was wrong and that I deserved an apology. Ultimately, I told her I wasn't going home that Friday April 14 as originally planned. She said "Fine!". And we hung up.

Fallout

We haven't talked since that phone call on April 9. It's been around 2 and half months since. My dad texted me recently (while I was flying back from NYC for AddeConf) on June 23 about how my sister and I shouldn't mistreat/ignore my mom and that we're all she has. And I understand that. But I texted back "It's her choice. She never called me".

The intentional rejection of my phone calls as retribution for the accidental rejection of her phone calls is childish and abusive. I was worried the whole weekend and considered the possibility that something had happened to her. And I'm not being malicious or difficult in my reaction. I simply ask for an apology. And she can't even be bothered to provide that. Despite her devotion to raising me and my sister, I won't tolerate disrespect, even from her. Rather than lift us up and inspire us as a parent, she chooses to play these psychologically manipulative, exhausting games.

Additionally, the fact that this is the second cold war fuels my resolution to continue this standoff. It has soured my opinion of my mom and what I think our relationship. She clearly is immature, stubborn, and short-sighted. There are also clear limitations to her compassion/love if she is willing to ignore me and enter into cold wars so easily rather simply reflect apologize.

I do feel guilty when I reflect on how my mom is living her life without her children visiting as often. However, as I told my dad, it's her choice and she can resolve things easily. For now, I will continue forward on this path.

[grison-in-space]

oh agree re pretty much everything you are saying here, especially the note about the little "Chris the Player" storyline being transformational. Yes. That was the biggest moment I felt like the show was considering its impact re: disability and trying to do better. Which, like.... ableism to the degree I was complaining about upthread is as you say a "sigh, what can you expect", moment; "baby Chris with his reasonably severe CP is still a teenage heartthrob" is the kind of choice you sit up and look delightedly keenly at; "baby Chris is struggling with totally non-related-to-CP questions about permanency and people actually meaning their professed feelings about him because no one in his life has been super clear about what those are and people keep leaving" is like, even a tier of good storytelling above that. A+, beautifully done, I appreciate that shit very much.

cut to spare folks' dashes further excitable yelling

plus honestly Buck and Eddie's weird totally unacknowledged load-bearing platonic friendship must be so hard for a kid to figure out, especially when they are so blase and think it's super normal, and when the other people in Chris' social circles either go "wait wait wait--he's what? Are you sure he's not dating your dad?" or straight up assume that Buck is explicitly related to Christopher, and everyone treats Buck as weird as hell, so maybe he doesn't mean it, maybe Buck is like Ana or Marisol or worse, maybe like Carla, they pay Carla?!

(Carla and Chris' relationship, and more broadly Carla and Eddie's, is so interesting because Carla is a professional caregiver who is also legitimately valued by Chris and to a lesser extent Eddie as a person in their social network, which raises all sorts of interesting awkward potential for insecurity and conflict. Does being paid to act as a stand-in for Chris' care mean that their real relationship is invalid? You have to say it changes things, right? What about the fact that Eddie doesn't pay her and that she essentially has the grant-finding expertise to be paying herself? Does she need this job, or would she find another almost immediately? These are all questions the show has not interrogated on camera but they raise all kinds of promising avenues for tension in fanfiction.)

there's so many great tracks for an anxious kid to focus on there just as a consequence of not having a clear narrative of his relationship with Buck (and Eddie's) to use in order to understand the permanency of that relationship. like, he went to Buck once but what if that was overstepping? Adolescence is such a period of figuring out what kinds of lives the adults around you have and what you do and don't want for yours, and Buck and Eddie are legitimately confusing. Would Buck ever move away? If Chris moved away, would Buck even miss him? Has Chris been a dumb baby this whole time thinking his dad's friend cares about him too?

(all this is by the way why I think Chris has not been in contact with Buck: my guess is that he is too afraid that he will find out that Buck was never really his friend / person in the first place to contact him and risk proving himself right. It's also why I suspect that Chris' own insecurity is likely to be a major factor in the timing and likelihood of Eddie actually talking explicitly to Buck about any formalization of what they mean to one another: I'm pretty sure that the moment Eddie confesses any kind of interest in men to Chris, he's going to want assurances that Eddie doesn't fuck this one up, too.

Fuck, that kid is fucked up about relationships almost to the same extent that his dad is. Which is potentially really interesting in its own right!

Anyway, yeah, what we're both ricocheting back and forth on re fandom. Obviously fanfiction is a gift and something people choose to do for fun; I'm just out here going.... this is a beautifully messy canon with all kinds of juicy texture to chew on and wallow in, why are people defaulting to the generic when there's so much really interesting specificity here? And I mean, the specificity takes some more work to create, it takes reading and listening and thinking and working at understanding the story you want to tell, and

I never get to see even people who look like they were based off real people with AuDHD* in media, I was so pleased about it. And yeah, Buck starts off real... like that... and then just keeps going with it. Fucking hell, can you imagine the absolute hell of being a little kid with hyperactive subtype ADHD impulsiveness/need to move/tendency to interrupt/always talking in that house? It's a wonder he's not even more fucked up from his parents than he is.

(have you read the Vorkosigan novels at all? I have like, half a story in my head about Chris discovering them and reading them in El Paso and just losing his mind about them at the same time as there is suddenly no one in his life who he can talk to about it, and I write real fucking slow but the concept keeps jumping out and waving at me... not least because it's kind of like Miles was developed for Chris to imprint onto in a vat, what with the very visible disability and the chronic pain and the desire to do better and the ambiguously bisexual dad he doesn't entirely understand or know how to connect to--although Miles' mother is very much in his life and still very much married to his dad--and the complex relationship with people who seriously advocated for disposing of you when you were little but love you now and how do you reconcile those things...)

(also, yes I can see neurodivergent!Eddie or I can see paralyzedbyanxiety!Eddie; it really is hard to disentangle them especially when he is so visibly worried with new people about fucking it up. that said, frankly, Uber!Eddie without any of his social scripts to work with and no actual ability to work out how to approach people the way they want in a customer service oriented job read as "I am autistic and I have been masking seamlessly but suddenly the context changed and now what do I do" to me. I usually look for some kind of fixation, even a transient one, when I'm assessing how I feel about characters being autistic, but Eddie is so damn shut down about his interests and so used to completely repressing what he actually wants that I'm not that surprised not to hear about it, you know?

@grison-in-space didn't want to derail from this post even more and also i think this may have gotten too long for an ask sooo...

heavily agree on everything you've said re: chris. i'm audhd and physically disabled (though i can often hide the physical disability) and have a lot of the same thoughts and frustrations about fandom and the show. i remember when i was watching for the first time i got to the whole "he never feels sorry for himself" thing and just... sighed. a lot.

at the same time, i'm kind of grateful to the show? 'cause even if they're missing the mark a bit, i can tell they're trying. they're not shying away from giving chris' story everything it would every other character: inner conflict, learning, growing. like the fact that they gave him that mini-arc where he had multiple middle school girlfriends was huge, imo.

and it's kind of frustrating to go from that ^ to fandom. because there's a ton of flattening of his character and his struggles. like you said, kid's clearly inherited some of his dad's anxiety. there's the chess tournament but also things like him stressing out about xmas which set the trajectory for a lot of s5!eddie's arc, and him having nightmares about his mom post-tsunami and not wanting to make eddie sad. that's not even touching the fact that, despite fandom in general often bragging about the obscure and minute research it's done for fic, a lot of times it feels like people don't want to do so much as a cursory google search or wiki page skim about cp or disability in general.

which i guess circles us back around to the original post's point of "it's easier to ship these characters if a.) i can project one onto another character, b.) i just shove their kid in the background, or c.) everything is happy families and unrealistic." makes me sad. and a little mad. smad.

(also re: buck--tooootally agree with him being audhd. like the first time i watched him do the confused puppy head tilt because someone said something and he took it literally--specifically thinking things like hen's "you don't ever hear wham, bam, thank you, sir" and buck's "it doesn't rhyme..."--i was like "oh! he's mine. i'm claiming him for the audhd crowd he's so not just adhd. god it's like watching myself on tv." and it just was reinforced from there especially because of a lot of things you mention.)

(personally, i also tend to think eddie is neurodivergent but that's a whole other can of sardines.)

[curse-04]

Written for @hinnyfest

Prompt 18: Sharing a Sweater

A/N: This is a sequel to my Prompt 4 submission. It was the one with the locker room submission.

-------

Harry and Ginny were talking in very hushed tones about something, and Fred knew that this was more… intense, at least as far as their secrets went.

After the War, it was like Harry and Ginny were inseparable. Everyone had been in their own heads for quite a while, but even still, they all noticed Harry and Ginny getting closer and closer, and no one was surprised when Harry started calling her his best friend.

Fred and George had both wondered if there was more than friendship going on there, but neither had asked, mostly because Harry and Ginny seemed to go on many trips, in different parts of the world, and they seemed quite content after they came back.

But now wasn't the time to think of that, they had a prank to pull after all. Their latest invention, the Secrecy Sweater, was about to be tested on none other than their own family, and Fred and George couldn't wait for their reactions.

Honestly, it was a brilliant piece of Magic, inspired by that of a Secrecy Sensor. It would detect who in a room- except for the one(s) who activated it- had the biggest secret. And it wouldn't come off until the Secret was revealed, or until the Sweater was otherwise destroyed.

They waited until the end of dinner to set it off, though. While their Mum was okay with their Joke Shop, pranking anyone at Dinner was huge 'No!'

As they'd expected, a white mist swirled around the Dinner Table, much to everyone's alarm. Bill, Harry, and Ginny had even drawn their Wands out, trying to make a way through it, to no avail. The Mist was a mere illusion. He suspected they were trying to avoid getting Poisoned if the mist wasn't.

The mist suddenly went for Harry and Ginny, and they were trapped in a Get Along Sweater that said, "Secret Keepers,"

"What the actual Fuck?" Harry asked.

"Fred and George Weasley!" Ginny snarled at the same time, surprising everyone into silence. For a second Fred almost pissed himself, but he felt proud that he kept it in.

"You've got a big Secret you aren't telling us," George said with a smirk, pointing at the T-shirt.

Fred sighed tragically. "Oh, look how secretive they've gotten, George," he said, shaking his head. "They were such innocent children once."

"Tragic, really," George agreed, wiping a tear from his cheek. "Our little sister-"

"How are we getting out of this?" Ginny asked. "Do we have to fight you in this and win somehow? Or do you take bribes?"

"You have to tell your secret," Fred explained. He was certain it would be that they were dating, but he'd wait and see.

"We were about to do that now, anyway," Harry said, glaring at him.

"Well, then by all means, go ahead," George said, smirking at him.

"Maybe we don't want to now," Ginny said, trying to cross her arms, but failing. "Ugh!"

"I could set it on Fiendfyre if you want," Harry told her seriously.

"Hmm…" she trailed off in thought. "Yeah, alright, burn it away."

"WHAT!?" A lot of their family members exclaimed. Using Fiendfyre in a closed space only led to disasters. It was taught in Fourth Year DADA classes. How did they miss that?

"It's only fair," Harry explained, shrugging. "They trapped us in this sweater, I'll burn it to get us out."

"Technically, you trapped yourself," Ron pointed out.

Harry raised an eyebrow at him, but Ginny just waved him off. "Eh, semantics," she said.

"You could just tell us…" Mum suggested helpfully.

Harry cocked his head and turned to Ginny, both of them seemingly having a silent conversation before they both let out a frustrated breath and nodded.

"Alright," Harry started.

"We're engaged," Ginny finished.

The effect was instantaneous, Fred's eyes almost popped out of his head, and George nearly spat his drink out. Mum and Dad smiled a few moments later, Ron, Hermione and Percy had their jaws on the floor, and the rest of them just seemed confused.

"But, but," some of them spluttered.

The sweater, however, didn't move.

"It's only a prototype," George explained nervously at their livid looks. "There's a good chance it might not work as intended."

"So, what do we do now?" Harry asked Ginny a while later.

"Well… since it's a prototype, I do think we should test out how durable it is," Ginny suggested with an impish smile, causing Harry to smirk.

"That's a great idea!" George exclaimed as Fred nodded at him.

"In private, of course," Harry said, smirking wider.

"Wait, what?" George said as Harry and Ginny quickly said a goodbye and ran off, promptly disapparating when they were beyond the Wards. "I swear I didn't know that's what they were talking about."

"Fred, George," Ron said with a sigh. "You're both idiots, you know that?"

[princeescaluswords]

I'm Season 1 Scott literally told Allison that he used to live with his dad in another city before moving to Beacon Hills with Melissa, and that his worst childhood memory was when his parents were divorcing. Which means that Rafael didn't actually disappear from Scott's life, and that he and Scott used to live together.

What type of silly gotcha game is this?

Neither of your points contradicts my meta in the slightest. If you don't think a parent can be neglectful and uninvolved in a child's life while they're living in the same house, your life experiences are sorely limited.

I never said that Scott didn't regret his father not being in his life, and neither did anyone else. The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference. Scott can resent that his father wasn't there and still care about his father, which he aptly demonstrated. If his parents divorced when Scott was six or seven or eight, Scott is sixteen when the show starts. That could be half of Scott's life where his father wasn't present.

How long did Scott live with his father? We don't know. Scott doesn't actually give a duration in Pack Mentality (1x03). Considering the multiple other scenes where Rafael is described as neglectful, I don't think it was very long. Let's look at some other scenes.

Here's one from The Tell (1x05):

Harris: Sorry. Allow me to clarify. I mean the lack of a male authority figure.

Melissa: Oh. Well, trust me, we're much better off without him in the picture.

It seems that Melissa and Adrian Harris are convinced that Rafael is not in Scott's life.

Here's one from Restraint (2x08):

Melissa: Yeah. Is this about your father? It is, isn't it? Okay, you know what, um - We'll talk about this at home. I'm gonna go get the car.

I doubt that Melissa would have suspected that Scott's relationship with his father was at the root of his juvenile delinquency if they went to ball games every other weekend. Or the fact that Stiles announcement that Rafael is so important it's the last thing that Stiles says to Scott before they go under the ice in Alpha Pact (3x11):

Stiles: By the way, if I don't make it back and you do, you should probably know something. Your dad's in town.

But I'm sure that Scott's father being in town is no big deal. And let's look at the scenes where they actually talk about Rafael being neglectful. What about that time in Silverfinger (3x17) where Scott is surprised that Rafael still has a key to his house and accuses him of getting his hair color from Rafael and that's all he got. Or maybe you can actually listen to Scott in Insatiable (3x23):

Scott: So... See you at graduation. Or whenever you decide to show up again.

Do you still need more? Because there's more! I mean, how do you square your belief "Which means that Rafael didn't actually disappear from Scott's life" with what Melissa says in the Divine Move (3x12):

Melissa: Seriously? Raf, you say that you want a relationship with your son. You can't just bail after one fight.

Or maybe Rafael's own words during Season 4's Time of Death (4x08)?

Agent McCall: Unfortunately, I'm going to have to drive back to San Francisco tonight. I'll need to do a review at the field office. But I'll be back as soon as I can. I might have to miss the first game of the season.

Scott: It's no big deal.

Agent McCall: It is to me. I'm keeping my promises this time

It's obvious to even the most casual observer that neither Scott nor Melissa nor Rafael nor the writers believe that Rafael has fulfilled his duties as a father. It's a significant plot line. In fact, one of the few plot lines that gives us insight into Scott's character without the supernatural being involved.

So why is there such hostility in the fandom to the idea that Rafael McCall was a neglectful father who wasn't present in Scott's life the way he should have been?

That question was rhetorical. I've been in the fandom long enough to understand that the fandom can't afford to acknowledge anything that happens to Scott or any problems in his life because their primary weapon in the war to de-center him as the lead protagonist of his own show is by arguing that he comes by his heroics cheaply. That he's a pampered White Knight who looks down on Stiles and Derek and Peter and any fandom favorite because he can't really understand the tragedies that they exist under. It's why they think that the only thing that happened to Scott after being bit was he magically got good at lacrosse and his asthma disappeared, pretending the terror of being hunted, fear of turning into a murderous monster, horror as his own body transforms into something unrecognizable and constant mental violation didn't actually happen. They can't try to center poor traumatized secondary characters if they don't deny Scott's experiences, even if it comes down to a neglectful father.

Especially in the light of Teen Wolf's theme that what is done to you doesn't give you the right to do things to others. I've watched fandom try to justify Peter's murder of Laura by saying she 'abandoned him' without even a single line spoken in the show, so it's necessary for them to insist that no one hurt Scott ever, because, by pursuing their own logic, Scott could have done much more.

It's tiresome.

[helloalycia]

The Wrong Lifetime – Seven // Wanda Maximoff

chapter six | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter eight

author’s note: hope y’all like this one 👀

The Maximoffs were just as a good at throwing a party as my own parents were.

Celebrating a new book that was published at Pietro's business, they threw a party in their back garden big enough to host half the town if they wanted to. Actually, now that I thought about, half the town was probably there.

We were invited to celebrate along with them because we were 'family' now, as Oleg and Iryna pointed out, so I found myself standing in their garden getting a drink under the night sky and trying to blend in with the snacks table so I wouldn't have to mingle. Parties still weren't my thing, clearly.

People-watching was more my forte. It was amazing the things people did when they thought nobody was looking. One guy coughed into his hand and wiped it on his pants – I reminded myself not to shake his hand – whilst some woman checked if her teeth were clean on the back of a serving tray.

My gaze raked the garden, indifferent to the men who attempted to get women's attention with a boyish grin and terrible pick-up lines, or the women who lifted their dresses a little higher than necessary to steal a man's attention. I spotted my parents talking to some guests whom I'd never see before, then there was Wanda's parents laughing alongside Pietro as he told a joke to some important looking people.

Eventually, my eyes fell to the remaining Maximoff, who was looking especially beautiful tonight. A deep lilac gown adorned her figure and she wore it like it was uniquely made just for her. She probably didn't even realise, but all eyes were definitely on her; a simple stride around the garden had people turning heads to see who the lilac beauty was. Y/B/N was the most envied man of the evening, with every guy here wishing they could have Wanda on their arm.

I'd wanted to tell her just how truly stunning she looked tonight, but I hadn't been able to pull her away from my brother's side for even a second. Everywhere he went, she went, too. I'd caught her eyes maybe three times tonight since she was so involved with whatever she spoke about with the people who worked for Pietro. I didn't take it personally of course, but it didn't make me feel any better.

Y/B/N had his hands all over her, probably suspecting just how many people were checking her out tonight, and I hated the way it made me feel. Envy and jealousy came over me and it wasn't pleasant. His hand was permanently fixed on her waist, at times moving suspiciously lower and making me roll my eyes. Occasionally, he'd lean over and whisper something in her ear making her flush – involuntarily or not, I didn't know. Wanda was a good actress, appearing as the perfect fiancé to him and couple to everybody else. Or, at least, I hoped it was acting.

"Pretty ladies shouldn't be standing by their lonesome," said someone with a Sokovian accent, but sadly not the one I wanted to hear.

"Pietro," I said with an amused smile, turning to face the man of the evening. "Congratulations on the new published book!"

He smiled appreciatively. "Thank you, Y/N. How are you finding the party?"

I glanced around, disguising my discomfort with a nod. "It's great."

He chuckled, as if suspecting that was a lie, before changing the subject. "So, the book. Have you read it?"

Glad that this was something I could actually talk about, my shoulders relaxed and I nodded. "Yes! I bought it yesterday as soon as it was published. I've only read the first six chapters, but what I've read is beautifully written."

Pietro snickered, raising his brows. "Only? That's further than anyone here has read."

I smiled bashfully, eyes veering elsewhere with embarrassment. "I guess I just have a lot of free time."

He hummed with amusement. "And you must really like reading... Wanda mentioned you write, too. It's nice to know it runs in the family."

Certain my cheeks were flushed, I nodded. "Yeah, our dad, he taught Y/B/N and I how to write when we were kids. That's where my love of literature began."

"And what do you like to write?" he asked, intrigued.

I shrugged, the grip on my glass of champagne loosening as I grew comfortable. "I don't know... short stories, drabbles, novels. I mainly deal with themes of love and romanticism. We're so intent on leading our lives with what other people want that we rarely take time to think about we want... I write about that."

Swallowing, I looked to Pietro, hoping I wasn't boring him. He was a publisher after all, besides my soon-to-be brother-in-law. His opinion was important to me.

"I must admit, Y/N, my interest is piqued," he admitted, watching me with an inquisitive gaze. "Do you have anything I could read?"

"It's probably better than it sounds," I said dismissively, knowing this was just small talk.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I doubt that. You shouldn't say such things. You never know, you could be my next signed author."

I tried not to laugh. "Nice try, Pietro."

He smiled widely. "What? I'm serious!"

Tilting my head towards him knowingly, I sighed. "We both know that can't happen."

He was grinning now, clearly entertained by my unamused expression. "Says who?"

I motioned around us with my drink. "Says everyone? The world we live in?"

He began to list authors on his fingers as he said, "Jane Austen. Emily Bronte. Mary Shelley. Louisa May Alcott. Dare I name more?"

"Okay, okay, I get it," I said, pushing his hand down and rolling my eyes at his smug expression. "But I can promise you that all of those women fought tooth and nail to get published. Their families probably weren't as accepting as they wanted them to be. There's still people now who talk about how unprofessional and lacklustre their works are. They didn't have it easy. Still don't. And don't even get me started on the reputation side of things for you... d'you know how much backlash you'd get for signing a woman?"

Pietro shrugged, sipping his drink, before saying casually, "I only care about talent, Y/N. And if you have even a quarter of the talent your brother does, then I'm happy to go from there."

I quirked a brow, trying to gauge if he was pulling my leg or not. But the kind eyes looking back at me suggested he may not have been. Either way, the idea of actually being published – something I'd been dreaming of since I was a kid – was enough to raise my suspicions and make me shake my head.

"Thanks for listening, Pietro," I said conclusively, hoping he got the hint.

He nodded, accepting my word, thankfully. "Anytime. Hopefully this isn't the end of this conversation, though."

I cracked a smile, knowing it was but giving him the benefit of the doubt. He pursed his lips, glancing around briefly before attempting to hide an amused smile.

"What are you smiling at?" I teased, nudging him in the arm slightly.

His eyes met mine, sparkling with mischief. "You've probably not noticed, but as we've been speaking, almost everyone in this garden has looked our way."

I cocked my head with confusion, smile still present. He nodded subtly, eyes flickering to the right, so I followed his gaze and inconspicuously looked around. He was right, as murmurs of gossip escaped people's lips, their eyes trying to get a good look at the two of us. Even our parents were looking our way, no doubt discussing our future wedding affair.

"Wow," I breathed out, trying not to laugh as I looked back to him. "You'd think they'd have something better to do."

He leaned in, muttering, "Wanna give them a show?"

My eyes flickered between his, seeing that roguish charm of his come to life. I couldn't resist his mischievous attempt to piss off our parents, so of course I nodded with a stifled laugh.

"Care to dance, Miss Y/L/N?" he asked, a little louder than he needed to, attracting more attention.

I grinned, grateful for the idiot that was Pietro. He was already making my evening ten times better than it was.

Resting my hand in his outstretched one, I nodded. "Thank you, Mr Maximoff."

I barely had chance to put my glass down before he led me to the area before the live band that was strumming a lovely upbeat ballad. We joined the other couples that were also having a dance, unbothered by their nosey stares.

Bowing dramatically, he smiled and I curtsied before resting a hand on his shoulder and the other in his. He rested a hand on my waist respectfully before a grin spread across his lips and he began to dance me around everybody else, way too fast for me to keep up.

"Pietro!" I exclaimed between fits of laughter, trying not to trip over my feet or his.

"You said we could dance," he answered simply, before spinning me around.

My eyes went dizzy as he dipped me, making me laugh joyfully. For the first time all night, I was having fun. When he pulled me up, his eyes motioned to the left of us.

"D'you think our parents have already picked the wedding venue?" he teased.

"Definitely," I said with a nod, before shoving him back slightly. "But you, mister, need to slow down. You're like a speedster with the dancing. We should call you Quicksilver."

He laughed, continued to dance me around but much more slower this time. "I like that. You're clever. I can see why Wanda has taken a liking to you."

I knew he didn't mean it like that, but my heart dropped to my stomach anyway. A hearty chuckle escaped his lips as he noticed my expression. Thankfully, he didn't question it and we continued to make a fool of ourselves for a few more songs before taking a break by the snacks table.

"You're an idiot," I told Pietro as we caught our breath, but a delighted smile was on my lips. "You know you've probably convinced our parents that we're a couple now, right?"

"Hey, you're the one who started to fluff my hair like you loved me!" he retorted with humoured eyes.

"Because you're just so darn cute!" I mocked him, before moving forward and going in to fluff his hair yet again.

He attempted to smack my hand away as he said, "Hands off the hair, Y/L/N! I styled it perfectly!"

Grabbing my wrists, he held me back and I tried not to cry with laughter at the expression on his face.

"Such a child," I decided, pulling my hands away. "Whatever happens from here on out is definitely your fault."

He scoffed, as if ready to refute that fact, but before he could say anything, my brother's voice was heard.

"It's nice to see you actually conversing with people for a change, but maybe not my publisher."

Pietro and I turned and saw Y/B/N and Wanda approaching us. My brother seemed entertained by Pietro and I, looking between us with pre-conceived ideas that we may have already fancied each other, just like everyone else had tonight. Wanda, meanwhile, was watching me with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"He's good company, what can I say?" I joked, returning my brother's smile.

"Oh?" He raised a brow, knowing look in his eyes.

I rolled my own, trying not to laugh at his insinuation. There was no point trying to convince him otherwise.

"I was just giving Y/N here the best evening ever since she was moping around in the corner," Pietro explained nonchalantly, making me smack his arm.

"I was not moping!" I defended myself.

He shrugged, ghost of a smile on his lips. "Whatever you say."

I gave him a playful glare before focusing my attention to the couple before us.

"As lovely as it is to see whatever this is," my brother continued to make things awkward as he motioned between us, "I came to get Pietro. Someone from the press is here and has questions about the book."

At the mention of this, Pietro straightened up and neatened his bow tie, flashing my brother his most confident smile. "Lead the way, Y/B/N."

After assuring Wanda he'd be back in a second, Y/B/N let go of her waist and guided Pietro to the members of the press. Glad that he'd finally left her side, I looked to Wanda with a soft smile.

"Hey," I said quietly, glancing around before saying what I'd wanted to say all night. "You look radiant tonight, Wanda." 

Unexpectedly, she crossed her arms and pressed her lips together firmly. "How was your dance with Pietro?"

Her green eyes, literally green with envy, watched me with distaste. It didn't take long for me to recognise that familiar jealousy entwined in her expression because it was probably the same way I looked when she was with my brother. For some reason, this made me smile with amusement.

"He's a very good dancer," I said, half truthful and half trying to poke fun.

She wasn't amused. "Yeah, everybody saw. You've been all over him."

I covered my mouth, trying very hard not to laugh. "I mean, he's pretty funny to be around. I can totally see why everybody wants us to get married."

Her jaw clenched as she narrowed her eyes at me.

"C'mon, it's a joke," I said lightheartedly, nudging her in the arm. "You know that."

After internally debating whether or not to believe me, she relaxed her shoulders and unclenched her jaw. "I know."

"So, what's the problem?" I asked, raising a brow and smiling playfully.

She rolled her eyes. "Nothing."

My smile faded as I searched her eyes. "C'mon. What is it? You know you can tell me."

"Forget it, Y/N," she muttered, avoiding my eyes.

Realising she was still clearly bothered, I sighed dramatically, hoping to lighten the mood. Making sure my voice was low enough for only her to hear, I said, "I only danced with him to annoy our parents. Same with him. He's clearly not interested in me and neither I with him. That's why we get along so well." Teasing her once more, I added, "If circumstances were different, I'd like to think we'd be good friends. He's quite handsome, though I think the good looks are a Maximoff twin thing. Maybe if–"

"I'm in love with you!"

I paused, blinking, unsure if I'd heard correctly. Her cheeks were flushed as she looked to me with exasperation.

Glancing around to make sure nobody was attracted by her outburst, I swallowed hard. My heart was pounding in my ears as she said what I'd been struggling to accept for the past two months.

"What?" I breathed out, raising my brows with surprise.

She licked her lips, realisation replacing her look of admission. Opening her mouth to say something, she stepped forward, but my brother returned with an oblivious smile on his face and interrupted the moment.

"Wanda, the journalists want a picture of us for their article," he said enthusiastically, returning his arm around her waist and tugging her close, making my skin crawl.

Her gaze lingered on me for as long as she could before looking up to my brother with a halfhearted smile.

"Sure," she agreed reluctantly.

My brother nodded at me before leading Wanda away. She gave me one last look, her eyes trapped with unsaid words, before leaving with him. My mouth went dry as Wanda's words echoed in my mind. She was in love with me. And I knew I was in love with her, too. I had been for a while.

But wouldn't admitting that make this whole thing a lot more complicated?

—

"Will you stop shaking your hand? It's very distracting."

I stopped shaking my hand and gave my mum an apologetic glance before facing the door again. I was extremely eager and nervous to see Wanda again, as I hadn't been able to see her for the rest of the party last night.

Her words were permanently resounding in my mind all night, making it difficult to fall asleep. The reality of our situation had dawned on me and I knew that even though everything would become more difficult between us, I had to tell her that I felt the same way. The last thing I wanted was her panicking that I didn't. Because these last two months loving her in secret were better than anything I'd experienced in my life.

Iryna and my mum had made plans to hang out today, including Wanda and I in the plans without actually telling me until this morning. I didn't mind though as I was hoping it could be an opportunity for us both to finally speak.

The front door opened to reveal Iryna with a bright, inviting smile. She exchanged greetings with us both and ushered us inside instantly. There, waiting, was Wanda, looking as gorgeous as ever. A calm suddenly enveloped me as I looked to her, my heart fluttering in my chest more so than usual. She loved me and that thought alone made me feel giddy inside.

"You must come upstairs to the closet with me," Iryna insisted before I could utter a word to the brunette. "I've been very silly and impulse-ordered a bunch of new dresses. Of course, the only way to fix that is to try them on."

My mother laughed alongside her and the two of them looked to Wanda and I questioningly. I smiled their way, glancing at Wanda, before following them upstairs. Maybe later.

I spent the next hour trying on clothes against my own will, modelling them for Wanda and our mothers awkwardly. Ecstatic, our mothers threw their opinions out at me, but I was barely listening because all I could seem to focus on was a quiet Wanda. I couldn't read her mind for the life of me – she was getting better at hiding how she truly felt.

Wanda also tried some dresses on, still not as enthused as she usually was, but neither of our mothers seemed to take notice. I sat on the lounge sofa alongside them, eyes unable to look away from Wanda as she modelled the dresses. I had no words, my mind hazy and tongue tied as she stole my breath away for the millionth time. She was ethereal.

"...what do you think, Y/N?" Iryna asked, forcing me to look away from Wanda and to her. "She should keep this one, shouldn't she?"

I hummed in agreement, looking back to Wanda, who was avoiding my eyes. "She should. I don't think I've ever seen a dress so perfect for someone before."

Our mothers didn't seem to think much of my comment, but Wanda finally looked up, not ignoring me for the first time since I got here. I offered her a small smile, hoping she could see what I'd been wanting to say to her since last night. But she looked away, chewing on her lip and looking down.

"I'm gonna change," she mumbled, before turning to go back behind the curtain.

A sigh escaped my lips as I leaned back against the seat. I'd just have to find a spare moment.

Iryna and my mum proceeded to try on a bunch of dresses before we called it a day and were ready to eat lunch.

"I want you to have these, Y/N," Iryna told me as we all stood up, motioning to the pile of dresses on the arm of the sofa. "It's my gift to you."

I raised my eyebrows. "Oh, Iryna, you don't need to give–"

"Don't be ridiculous," she cut me off with a wave of her hand. "You're family now. Anything for my daughter-in-law."

I smiled awkwardly, not missing the eye roll from Wanda, before nodding. "Thanks..."

She looked to her daughter. "Wanda, medovyy (honey), can you help her pack them away and meet Y/M/N and I outside on the patio for some lunch?"

Wanda, having no other choice but to say yes, nodded and forced a smile in her mum's direction. "Sure, mum."

Our mothers fell into conversation as they left the room, finally leaving Wanda and I alone. I released a breath, grateful for the privacy, and looked to the Sokovian in question.

"You okay?" I asked slowly, wanting to find a start before erupting straight into my feelings.

She nodded, nibbling on her lip. She looked like she wanted to say something more, so I watched her patiently.

After a pause, when I thought she may just stay quiet forever, she spoke. "If what I said last night was out of line, I'm sorry."

I shook my head, a smile curling on my lips. "It wasn't. I'm in love with you, too."

Surprised, she finally met my gaze, eyes swirling with confusion. "You are?"

"Of course I am," I said quietly, stepping forward and taking her hands in mine. "I didn't mean to make you jealous last night. Pietro and I were genuinely just hanging out as friends."

She shook her head, eyes flickering between mine. "It doesn't matter about that. Forget it."

I still felt guilty, adding, "I know, but it does matter. I don't want to–"

She pressed her lips to mine quickly, cutting me off. Her fingers tangled in my hair as she tugged me closer with her other hand, making me gasp when my body touched hers. I kissed back, closing my eyes and moving my lips against hers in perfect sync.

I probably could have kissed her all afternoon, but the sound of the door opening made us both jump apart, startled. It was just a servant who was coming in to clean up the room. When she saw us, she gave us a small smile before moving around the room carefully. My eyes fell to Wanda's excited ones, and I smiled at her before nodding to the dresses.

"We should sort this out before they wonder what's taking so long," I told her, moving to pack them.

She nodded, grabbing my hand and squeezing it gently before helping me. We packed the dresses in no time before joining our mums out on the patio where they were sat with our lunch. I tried to keep my eyes off Wanda as our mothers spoke to us about God knew what, but it was hard when all I wanted to do was kiss her over and over, telling her just how much I loved her.

"...nice to see you both getting along lately," Iryna was talking, and I only zoned back in when I realised she was looking at me.

I blinked. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

Wanda stifled a smile as my mum gave me a disapproving look from across the table.

Iryna didn't seem to mind as she chuckled. "You and Pietro," she continued. "You both seemed very comfortable at the party last night."

I settled on a polite smile. "He's a gentleman. Very nice to be around, I guess."

Iryna smiled knowingly, exchanging glances with my mum before patting Wanda on the forearm, getting her attention. "How does that sound, dear? Your brother and Y/N together?"

I shook my head instantly, realising how she'd taken my words. "That's not what I meant."

Humming in response, Iryna continued to look to her daughter. "You may have to start sharing your new best friend with Pietro."

Remembering Wanda's jealousy last night, I spared her a glance of concern, hoping she wouldn't let this get to her. She was smiling, but her eyes were dimmed with dismay.

"Uh-huh," she played along with her mother's words, before using her fork to pick at her food.

As our mums began to talk about it, I found Wanda's hand under the table and laced my fingers in hers, hoping she'd know I only cared about one person and it was her. Though she didn't look up, her hand tightened around mine and she didn't let go.

The rest of the lunch went by as expected, though the more Iryna and my mother mentioned the wedding, the more Wanda and I grew uncomfortable. It was so much harder to hear about it when I knew my feelings were growing stronger for the brunette every day. By the end of the meal, my mother was happy to go back home and said I could stay to hang out with Wanda, which of course I did.

After bidding her a goodbye, I let Wanda drag me upstairs and to her bedroom, though the door closed when she spun around and pushed me against it, immediately kissing me. Before I could even question what was happening, she pulled away and looked at me through a half-lidded gaze.

"I don't want to share you with my brother, ever," she rasped out lowly, before licking her lips. "I don't want to share you with anyone."

She breathed out, her breath mingling with mine. Her hands rested on my waist before she reattached our lips, moving hers slower and more thoughtfully against mine.

I closed my eyes, grabbing her face and holding her gently, letting her slip her tongue between my lips and play with mine. Then she sucked on my lower lip, teeth nibbling gently at the sensitive skin, and made my insides go warm and fuzzy.

When she let go, she trailed kisses down my jaw and to my neck, having me at her mercy.

"Wanda," I moaned, hand moving to the back of her neck as I tried to regain some control of the situation, but the longer she sucked at the exposed skin, the more my knees wanted to buckle.

Already lowering my dress to my shoulders, her hand untied the back of it and I flushed at the contact of her fingers against me, not used to the feeling but also not opposed.

"Wanda, are you sure?" I asked between bated breaths, attempting to get her attention by tugging at her dress.

She pulled back, hand rising to my jaw and caressing it with her thumb as she looked between my eyes. Hers were dark, clouded with an arousal I hadn't seen before.

"I am," she said with certainty, before asking, "Are you?"

I swallowed hard, the warmth in my core growing hotter as she stared at me with lustful eyes and swollen lips. "Yes."

She gave me a slight smile before pressing her lips to mine again, allowing me to wrap my arms around her neck. I heard her lock the door behind me as I undid the top of her dress, struggling to do so without breaking contact from her. We moved to the bed clumsily, trying not to stumble over our discarded dresses, before I laid her down and straddled her.

Leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down her neck, I felt her fingers grip my waist, keeping ahold of my body on hers. I shivered as her nails scratched gently against the skin and grew warm when she lifted herself up gently to get more comfortable, her clothed centre rubbing against mine.

Taking a breath, I pulled away and hovered over her, revelling in the beauty that was Wanda Maximoff. Her cheeks were dusted pink as she opened her eyes, green eyes sparkling desperately as they flickered between mine.

"I love you," I told her softly, leaning on my elbow and caressing her forehead.

She smiled, nails trailing up my back and sending shivers down my spine. "Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu."

I tried not to laugh as I tilted my head with confusion. She smiled a little wider, hand reaching for the back of my bra.

"I love you, too," she translated in English, hint of amusement in her eyes, before she managed to undo the bra strap.

I rolled my eyes at her attempt of mockery before chasing down her lips once more. Everything about the woman before me was absolute perfection and I was glad I could finally share how I felt about her without having to hide it anymore.

The potential consequences of our actions was not my concern right now... all I cared about was treating her with the respect and care she deserved.

[keeneonmyself]

TATBILB || Cobra Kai

Chapter 1

word count: 1.4k

Robby Keene x fem!oc (Sydney LaRusso)

masterlist

text me if you want to be in tag list <3

The forbidden kiss.

We knew that it was wrong, that he was betrothed to my sister. But if this wasn't what he wanted then why did he come to the field of desire?

It was fated, that we should meet like this.

Someone threw a pillow on me. "Hey!" I sat up on my bed and looked towards the door where my little brother Anthony was standing.

"The dinner's almost ready." He crossed his arms over his chest. "I just want to finish this chapter." I turned the page of the book.

"Come help me set the table." Our older sister Sam walked past Anthony. He reluctantly obeyed and followed her downstairs.

"I don't want sushi, I'm getting sick of it."

I calmly finished the chapter before walking downstairs. Right in the time, when Miguel came.

"I'm not too late, am I?" Miguel squinted his eyes at Sam. "I was trying to meditate, but I ended up falling asleep." He chuckled.

He kissed his girlfriend and then greeted my dad. "Smells fishy Mr. LaRusso." "Hey, Miguel." Dad just walked by with a tin full of fish.

Until then, I just watched them from the stairs, but now Miguel noticed me too. "Hey, Sydney." Miguel smiled and gave me a high five.

"Good evening Mrs. LaRusso." Miguel smiled at my mom, who gave him a hug in response.

We all sat down at the table and dad got to work passing out the food. "Sorry, my bad," he slapped the palm of his hand across his forehead, "the sticks." He laughed. "I'll go get them." Samantha stood and walked into the kitchen.

I sat there quietly, across from Miguel, who was smiling nervously. It wasn't his first dinner with us, more like last.

"I can't believe we're not going to see her until Thanksgiving." I sighed and leaned my arms on the table.

"It's gonna be Christmas actually, sweetheart, because Japan is too far to come back just for Thanksgiving." Mom grabbed my hand.

"Wait, are you kidding? We're not gonna see her until Christmas!" Anthony spoke up for a change.

"Let's look on the bright side," Dad seized the word, "Sam won't be taking the car every day, so you can practice your driving." He looked at me. "And you, little man, will have more time to spend with us." He turned to my brother. He was still trying to get him into karate.

"Ugh, I forgot I have to drive with Sydney now." Anthony rolled his eyes. "Feel free to take the bus." I grinned at him.

"If you are in a bind, I can give you a ride. I'm not disappearing, I'll still be next door." Miguel launched himself into the family chaos.

"Or I can drive and if we get pulled over, we'll switch places real quick." Anthony joked. "Top-notch idea, honey." Dad pointed at his son with joy, but when he saw Mom's look, the smile faded out from his face.

"What did I miss?" Sam came in from the kitchen with the chopsticks. She took the seat next to Miguel and passed them around. "We were talking about what a bad driver Sydney is." I bared my teeth at Anthony

"Yeah, but we were also talking about airplanes which speaking of... I have a surprise for you." Miguel turned around, fumbling for something in the sweatshirt he had hanging on his chair. Mom, Dad, and Anthony all had pinned eyes at him, suspecting something. A second later, Miguel handed Sam a paper folded into a little rectangle. His sister took it uncomprehendingly and opened it.

"You won't come home for Thanksgiving, I figured I'd bring it home to you." Miguel smiled even wider and waited for his girlfriend's reaction. "It's a plane ticket. I'm coming to Japan."

He was already laughing so happily, proud of the boy sitting to his left. "Look at Miguel, stepping up." He started clapping.

I kept my eyes fixed on my sister, who clearly didn't like the surprise. But I also didn't understand what Miguel was trying to prove with this.

"You... you already paid for this?" Samantha turned to Miguel, trying not to disturb the family atmosphere at the table. "Yeah, I had a Google alert set for flight as soon as you decided you wanted to go to school there."

It was actually quite sweet, it made me smile a little. But it wasn't for me. It was for Sam.

"Why?" Miguel asked confused. Sam cleared her throat and decided not to answer, rather she got some sushi into her mouth.

"Mhmm, delicious." Anthony tried to save the situation.

I guess I should tell you a little bit about Miguel. He and Samantha have been together for the past two years, but before Sam even cared that he existed, he was my first boyfriend. Well, more of a boy who was a friend.

I could talk to him about anything. We really understood one another.

We didn't stop being friends when Miguel and Sam got together, but it was different.

They didn't want me to feel left out, so they invited me everywhere even on dates. They tried to make it as normal as possible, but I still felt like a third wheel.

It's not that I wanted to steal my sister's boyfriend or anything. I was super happy for Samantha. She deserved a great guy like Miguel.

And so I wrote him a letter. I wasn't gonna send the letter, it was just for me to understand how ai was feeling. But really, I guess it was mainly about how sometimes I imagined what it would've been like if I'd realized how I felt about him sooner.

After, I saw Miguel and Sam arguing out the window. She went to see him off, but I read from the expressions that it turned into a little fight.

I went to the closet to get my secret box where I keep my letters. My letters are my most secret possessions. There are five in total:

Kyler from camp; Robby from seventh grade; Demetri from Homecoming; Eli from Model UN and Miguel.

I sat down on the carpet behind the bed and opened one of the letters.

I write a letter when I have a crush so intense I don't even know what else to do. Rereading my letters reminds me of how powerful my emotions can be, how all-consuming. Samantha would say I'm being dramatic, but I think drama can be fun...

"What are you doing?" Sam came into my room with a large box. "Nothing," I quickly stuffed the letters back into the box and shoved the box under the bed.

"Your room's a mess," Sam said annoyed, laying down on my bed. "You okay?" I sat down next to her, but her back was turned to me. "Yeah... well, I don't know, I just broke up with Miguel."

"You did what?" I blurted out in surprise. "Why?"

"I don't want to go into college taken." "But you love him." "I know." She answered me without any emotion. "So, do you think you might change your mind?" I patted her shoulder. "No. No, it's over." She sat up next to me and rested her head on my shoulder.

"When I was packing for college, I decided to box a few things for Goodwill. So did parents... and I think you should do it too, I made you a box." She took my hand and squeezed it with both of hers.

"I don't really think there's anything I can part with at the moment." I looked around the room.

"Syd, I'm leaving tomorrow. That means you're going to be the oldest sister. You need to set a good example for Anthony. No chips before dinner and a clean room." She giggled at her last sentence.

"Can we go back to talking about how you're sad?" I chuckled.

"Good night," Samantha stood up and walked to her room. I waved to her without a word and watched her leave.

[bobasheebaby]

91 Lucifer prompts

Some of my favorite quotes from my favorite devil. (Cut at 15 cause it’s long.)

Lucifer Morningstar

1 “People don’t arrive broken. They start with passion and yearning until something comes along that disabuses them of those notions.”

2 “People don’t have power over us. We give it to them.” 

3 “The best thing to do is always to follow your greatest desire.”

4 “Sometimes we are what we are, and we should embrace that.”

5 “Desire shouldn’t be contained, it’s unnatural.” 

6 “Why do humans think they can rectify one evil with another?”

7 “Life’s too short to hold grudges.”

8 “Believe me, there is no winning when you play by a twisted tyrant’s rules.” 

9 “You shouldn’t have to change for anyone. And neither should I.” 

10 “I refuse to be a scapegoat for which something I bear no responsibility. It’s a theme in my life.”

11 “Trust me, I’ve been doing this a long time. I know evil.”

12 “If you desire something, just take it.”

13 “Trust me, if there’s one thing I know, it’s desire.”

14 “What I hate more than anything is a liar, a charlatan, someone who doesn’t believe in what they say.”

15 “Hell truly hath no fury like a man/woman scorned.”

16 “No one gives us the right… we take it.”

17 “Mmm, dangerous. NAME likes.”

18 “There was immediate danger. He/she was about to leave this man/woman completely unsatisfied.”

19 “When in doubt, go with the classics. That’s what I always say.”

20 “Guilt is such a useless emotion”

21 “Take a swing and I’ll shove that so far up your ass, you’ll have splinters in your stool.”

22 “What makes us vulnerable is often right under our noses.”

23 “Now tell me, what is it that you truly desire?”

24 “Well, maybe it’s like butt stuff. Easier the second time around.”

25 “It’s always the ones you least suspect, the ones you trust the most, that hurt you. They wait until your guard is down and then wham! In my case, it was tequila.”

Chloe Decker

26 “It’s better to move forward than stay stuck in the past.” 

27 “We can’t control what happens to us only how it affects us and the choices we make.”

28 “You have to stop taking responsibility for things that you can’t control.” 

29 “Sometimes we get along best with the people we’re most different from.”

30 “Pull yourself together. You look like a homeless magician!”

31 “It’s really not a good day for… your… NAMEness”

32 “You don’t save a marriage by sleeping with other people.”

33 “If you go looking for loopholes, you’ll always find them.”

34 “NAME’s not another guy/gal. He’s/She’s a weirdo.”

35 “As any parent knows, the best time to get things done is when everyone else is asleep.”

36 “I wasn't afraid of you.”

37 “I don't want you to see me like this. I know it scares you.” “No, that's... that's what I was trying to tell you. I'm not... I'm not afraid of you anymore.” “You're not?” “You see, this is what I'm talking about. It's so sweet. I'm going to puke.”

38 “I miss him/her. I mean, he/she pisses me off all the time. And there are so many things about him/her that ... that I find hard to accept, but I just have to believe I can find a way. Because ... I'd rather have him/her in my life than not.” “Well, then... I think you know what you need to do.”

39 “You're different than me. You're stronger. You could have run, but you didn't. Why didn't you?”

40 “It's not like you haven't always told me the truth. You know? So ... I think, deep down, I just ... I always knew.”

41 “Let's pretend for one second that you're someone else. Someone nice, someone mature.” “Ooh, I love role-play.”

42 “What, you're just gonna leave me here? In this part of town?” “You said you wanted danger.”

43 “Please tell me I'm hallucinating.” “Well, I am dreamy, but try to contain yourself.”

44 “You step out of line one time …” “You can give me a right-good spanking, I promise.”

45 “This cannot be true. Can it? I mean ... if you knew this, why wouldn't you say something? I mean, I almost married him/her. I mean, I almost married him/her.” “I tried to tell you, but you wouldn't listen.”

46 “Oh, my God. Did the world just turn upside down? Did you just admit to being wrong?”

47 “You know, it can be scary sometimes, but ... being who you really are is never a bad idea.”

48 “I need you to stay here and watch your dad/mom.” “That's true. Without the two of us, he’s/she's defenseless.” “I don't know if I like what you're whispering about.”

49 “How long have I been out?” “Three years.” “What?!” [NAME starts laughing] “You’re such an ass.”

50 “I couldn't sleep last night, so I stayed up all night working, and, you know, I drank a lot of caffeine. Like, a lot.”

Mazikeen Smith

51 “If you go by someone else’s pace, it shows how much you really care.”

52 “Sometimes you have to accept when someone doesn’t feel the same way about you.” 

53 “Self-worth comes from within, bitches.” 

54 “I would never ask you to change. I like who you are.” 

55 “Hey! No one calls my skank a skank.” 

56 “Good. It's settled. Now, where do I put my knives.”

57 “Okay. One, I like to fight when I'm happy or ... horny. And, two, I really don't want to accidentally kill my best friend.”

58 “Maybe next time, I won't be around to save your ass.” “Mm! Well, that is a shame. 'Cause you and my backside used to get on very well. My front side, as well, actually.”

59 “And your name?” “NAME.” “How do you spell that?” “Surprise me.” [Later gets coffee with "WRONG NAME" on it]

60 “Everything that happened showed me exactly why I need to go back.” “I don't understand.”

Linda Martin

61 “Emotions are hard, but that’s why they make you strong.” 

62 “Goodness isn’t a toy.”

63 “Sometimes we need to lose something to understand its value.”

64 “Sometimes it’s easier to make intimate issues about something bigger than yourself.” 

65 “I find people who are rude usually feel powerless in their own lives. Terrified of not being in control.”

66 “Look... I know I'm not dad/mom, or partner or whatever. But I ...” “No. No, you're not. Come here. You are Uncle/Auntie NAME. And you will always ... be a member of this family.”

67 “Let's talk about what you're dealing with emotionally.” “Yeah, I really don't want to.”

68 “Why is he:she able to refuse my charms? I mean, is this thing on?” [points at him/herself] “Yes, yes. Definitely on.”

69 “How's that saying go? We're all in the gutter, but some of us are looking up at the stars.”

70 “Should've seen that one coming.”

Amenadiel

71 “We need the most love when we’re being most unlovable.” 

72 “No matter how bad things get, the true test is how we choose to respond to the pain. We suffer, or inflict.”

73 “Cosmos are yummy.”

74 “If you really want to know if you’re a worthy romantic partner, ask yourself.”

75 “NAME. What are you doing here? Did you hurt NAME?” “Only when he/she asked me nicely.”

Ella Lopez

76 “Whenever I’m procrastinating on something, I make an appointment for myself to do it. That way, can’t back out.”

77 “You see what I'm dealing with?”

78 “Hey. No one insults my family, except for me.”

79 [high on "candy"] “I know I should be freaking out right now, but your hair is so shiny.”

80 I'm usually not into reality shows either. I prefer more, you know, scripted-content, documentaries, but... I've got a little extra time these days, so... sort of kind of watched, uh, 27 seasons in two weeks.

Dan Espinoza 

81 “We all need someone to have our backs every now and then.”

82 “Ooh, lemon bars. My favorite. Mmm. Oh, man, these are amazing. Who made 'em?” “Uh, NAME did. Would you believe that hunk bakes?” [spits out the bars] “On second thought, who needs the empty calories?”

83 “Say you fall in love with a man/woman who has a cat. What are you gonna do? You accept the cat.” 

84 “Are you sleeping with this idiot?” “He/She hasn't had the pleasure, unfortunately, no.”

85 “Dude, I cannot deal with your weirdness right now.”

Trixie Espinoza

86 “We’re wearing the same shirt!” [both] “Sushi shirt!” [from around the corner] “I don’t know what’s going on out there, but I hate it!”

87 “I ate it.” “Mm-hmm.” “But NAME said it was okay.” “Oh, really?” “He/She said, if you really want to do something, you should. And I really wanted to eat some chocolate cake.”

88 “Are you looking at a no-no site?” “No. Why would you think that?” “Because you put it away so fast, and you look really, really guilty.”

89 “NAME, sever their Achilles first. If they can't walk ...” “They can't betray you.”

90 “You need to get a thicker skin. Stand up for yourself, because the truth is, nobody’s gonna do it for you.” — Charlotte Richards

91 “Anybody worth dating should understand everything that makes you … you.” — Ev

[the-unshaped]

CHAPTER ONE: WELCOME BACK TO BEACON HILLS

Chapter Text

"How's the first day back?"

Stiles Stilinski grinned as his oldest friend, Scott, slapped a strong hand on his shoulder. After what felt like a million years away from each other, he was back, his best friend standing beside him. It was a fantastic feeling.

Walking into the school was bizarre. He had felt nostalgia in the past but nothing to this extent before. Maybe it was because his last school was so much larger, but it seemed like every year they were making noticeable changes. Beacon Hills, on the other hand, was exactly how he remembered. The same white and black speckled linoleum floors, same painted mascot on the walls, same old lockers, same trophy cases lining the main hall.

Stiles was stoked.

Even the classes he'd taken so far, which would have ordinarily bored him since he'd learned a lot of what they were going over already, left him feeling almost giddy. The teachers didn't seem to share the sentiment, but fuck them. He wasn't going to let Finstock calling him Billinski a million times drag him down today.

Stiles and Scott had met up the day before, his dad surprising him with dinner and his childhood best friend as a gift for finishing all his unpacking, but it was even more exciting to know he was going to see him every day. They had talked at least once a week after Stiles finally broke and got Facebook eighth grade year and even more when they both had online gaming, almost every day. It was like they'd never stopped.

Stiles had been begging his dad to move back since the day they left, and he only got more persistent after his reunion with Scott, but no matter how hard he tried to convince him, no dice. That is until his dad's college friend, Adam Wilder, let him know that the Beacon Hills was offering full ride scholarships to the college of their choice to the top 5 graduates and was in need of a new sheriff. Not even John could refuse that kind of help. Despite his worry that he wouldn't be accepted as a transfer, he took a chance and put in an application. A month later and a million moving boxes later, Stiles was leaving his fancy Sacramento apartment and on his way home.

"Not bad, Scott. I've got Dad, my best bud, and my nightmares of a poorly-aged Lydia can finally be absolved because she is still as much of a goddess as the day I left, dare I say more. All is right with the world," he said, eyeing the lean strawberry blonde haired girl down the hall. Scott winced, and pulled at his lock, freeing it from the metal loop before opening it and shoving his math book inside. "I definitely missed this place. What more could I ask for?”

Scott scoffed and scuffed the toes of his shoes against the floor. "I can't imagine why anyone would miss this place."

Stiles eyed him, unsure if he was playing around or not. Leaving Beacon Hills, for him, felt like tearing off a limb, leaving something messy, jagged and bloody in its place. Sacramento hadn't been bad, per se. He made awesome grades and was in a club or two every year. He had some people that could pass as friends he hung out with occasionally, but it wasn't the same as the life he had in Beacon Hills. Also losing a limb, Stiles had survived the initial pain and adapted, but at the end of the day, he knew that it wasn't there and could feel the ache of its absence.

Stiles knew he was meant to be there. It was where he was born m. Where he learned how to tie his shoes and write his name. Where he and Scott made a terrible mess in the kitchen making treats for a fundraiser, and Melissa made them clean all day after school, scolding them even as she ate the last remaining cupcake. It was home.

The only difference between losing a limb and losing Beacon Hills was that there was always a voice in the back of his mind telling him that he could get it back, if only he could convince his dad. It was only a few hours away, and he would eventually be able to choose where he lived. Luckily he hadn't had to wait that long.

Stiles shrugged off Scott's dismissal. "I'm sure you'd miss it once you left."

Stiles closed his locker, and noticed Scott had gone quiet. He took a peek over his shoulder as he clamped his padlock shut and realized he had his eyes trained on an adorable brunette talking to a fierce looking blonde he had noticed earlier in their math class. Stiles looked between them a dorky smirk spreading across his face.

"You are so obvious, man. Your tail is practically wagging."

Scott's eyes shot up, eyebrows knit together. "What?"

"That girl. The brunette. You have your 'unrequited pining' look on your face," Stiles explained, shutting his locker door. Scott frowned, crossing his arms, even as he snuck another peek at her.

"It's not that obvious," Scott muttered.

"I've literally only been here for," he looked at her phone, then back up at Brennan, "three hours and forty-five minutes and I knew the moment you looked at her."

Stiles looked at Scott's downtrodden face then brightened. "Wait, is that Allison? Like love of your life, scary but amazing, Allison?"

The blonde glanced over at them, smirking at Scott. Stiles didn't seem to notice. Even if he had he would have no reason to suspect that she could hear anything he said, but Scott knew differently. He flushed, wrapping his arm around Stiles shoulder, whipping him around to face the lockers in a huddle.

"Dude," Scott hissed. "Keep it down."

"It is her! Holy crap," Stiles laughed. Scott just pouted, his eyebrows still pulled together.

"Yeah, yeah. You're brilliant. Can you shut up now?"

"Come on. You act like people are listening," Stiles said, craning his head around to look at the near bustling halls. "Trust me, we aren't that interesting."

"Speak for yourself. I'm plenty interesting."

"Oh yeah? Let my go ask how interesting you are," Stiles teased. "Yo, All-!"

Scott clamped a hand over his mouth, and Stiles was quick to retaliate.

"Did you seriously just lick me? How old are you? Stiles. Stop it!"

Scott dropped his hand with a scowl, wiping it on his dark jeans.

"I'll have you know, licking people could solve approximately 80% of the world's problems," Stiles said, hitting Scott suggestively. "Speaking of licking, how the hell did you get so built? I thought you sucked at sports."

Scott's scowl bled into a full blown grin, ignoring Stiles' sexual remark. "That was last year. A lot has changed. Now hurry up or we're going to miss lunch. And please try to control yourself a little, okay?"

Stiles gave him a questioning look, but didn't ask. He followed Scott through the halls, weaving through the people, trying to connect names to old familiar faces. Some people were easier to remember than others. He would catch flashes of memories from t-ball and baseball practices, or stories her dad had told him on the car ride here. He had only ever really been close to Scott before they left, but the familiarity was calming in a way he hadn't expected.

Stiles couldn't help but grin when they pushed through the heavy doors to the cafeteria.

The walls were a less than white white, dull and slightly grimy with age. They had long rectangular tables instead of the faux wood round ones at his old school, but honestly he liked these better, even if it was just a bit too much white all together for his taste. Too much like a hospital.

"Wow it hasn't changed at all," Stiles chirped. "I bet Mrs. Green still has that wild chin hair, too."

As if she could hear him, Mrs. Green looked up at him with a scowl. He waved at her excitedly, a lopsided grin painted on his face, and Scott shook his head in amusement.

"Hi, Mrs. Green!"

As they made their way through the food line, Stiles reminisced over the meatloaf and asked if they still had the breakfast pizza with white gravy and sausage balls he loved so much. Scott couldn't help but get secondhand excitement. It had been so long since he had felt normal like this. Not that he didn't like his life or that he didn't enjoy things the way they were, but having a friend that wasn't constantly caught up in his problems was nicer than he had expected it to be.

Stiles continued chattering excitedly up until the moment Scott sat down. At a table. With people. Very hot people. Stiles looked down at Scott with wide eyes, his mouth agape. Lydia Martin. Scott was friends with Lydia fucking Martin? How had this not made it into their text messages?!

Scott cleared his throat, obviously embarrassed.

"Guys, you remember Stiles, right? Stiles, that's Lydia, Allison, Isaac, Jackson, Boyd, and Erica. Cora normally sits with us but I think she-well, actually I'm not sure where she is today."

Stiles' eyes followed down the line, his face flushing. What the fresh hell? Scott was attractive in a totally platonic, nothing sexual way, and he would be blantantly lying if he said he hadn't noticed how fit he was now, but how the hell did they go from being the lanky dorks in class to Scott having supermodel-esque friends?

He immediately recognized some of the faces. Lydia, obviously. Scary hot blonde and Scott's crush, obviously Allison, from the hallway. Then, if his friends being hot wasn't weird enough, he realized with a start who the thin muscular guy was.

"Jackson. Jackson Whittemore? As in the Jackson Whittemore who shoved my Batman figure down the toilet?"

Stiles shook his head incredulously at Scott, like he had been personally victimized by the very thought of his seating partner, and Scott buried his face in his hands. Allison laughed, a musical sound that he had heard about in many different phone calls.

"You shoved his Batman down the toilet?"

Jackson smirked, shrugging slightly.

"Poor guy. So you were always a dick," Erica teased, peeking over the lip of her glass of water.

"We were like 6. I'm sure he's fine," Jackson said, leveling Stiles with a less than pitying glare.

Stiles muttered the contrary gruffly under his breath.

"You sure look tasty. Why didn't you tell us he was so fine, Scott?"

Stiles flushed at the blonde's words, not knowing how to comment to that. He looked to Scott for help, but he just shrugged as if to say, "she's always like this."

The man beside Erica, Boyd if Stiles recalled correctly, rolled his eyes, a knowing look on his face. He wrapped his arm around her and whispered something to her that made her giggle in delight, and Stiles was kind of scared to know what he said to make that noise come out of her.

Stiles, shifted back and forth on his feet, still standing awkwardly near the table holding his tray. He looked at the spot beside Scott, unsure. Out of everything he had prepared for today, this definitely wasn't it.

"You going to sit down Stilinski?" Jackson sneered.

"Actually I was thinking of enjoying my food standing up," Stiles shot back, biting into his roll dramatically. "I'd hate for anything else I love to end up in the toilet."

Scott grabbed the back of his jacket and pulled him down onto the bench with strength Stiles didn't know he had. He scowled but kept his mouth closed.

"Well, it's nice to meet you Stiles," Allison said. "Scott talks about you a lot. Like a lot a lot."

"Well isn't that a coincidence, because-" Scott jabbed him in the ribs as hard as he could under the table. Allison smiled bashfully and Lydia rolled her eyes.

"Ow! Stupid overnight muscles," Stiles muttered, rubbing his side. "Not fair."

"You know you aren't going to be eligible for Valedictorian or Salutatorian right?" Lydia asked suddenly, clamping her compact mirror shut. "The policy is that you have to be present for the entirety of your Junior and Senior year to qualify."

Stiles shrugged, trying to keep his overeager inner 9 year old self at bay. "Yeah my dad wasn't thrilled about that, but I told him I didn't care. My GPA is all that really matters. Well, that and my SATs and ACTs."

Lydia gave him an adorable half smile. "Its a shame. It will be nice to have some competition around, regardless. Scott says you're quite the diligent student."

Stiles gave Scott a look that he was too busy ogling to notice. That was strange. That was the second time they mentioned Scott talking about him, yet he knew nothing about any of them. "Is that right?"

Lydia quirked her head, looking between the two, and made a mental note of it.

The rest of lunch went by fairly smoothly, but Stiles couldn't really focus on the various conversations going on around the table, too busy trying to figure everyone out. He could tell that obviously Erica and Boyd were a couple, despite the remark about his attractiveness. Even surrounded by friends, and them frequently chatting with other people instead of each other, he could almost see the personal bubble they had around themselves, so thick it was almost tangible.

From what he could see, Allison and Lydia seemed to be best friends. He wasn't exactly surprised, pretty people always seemed to attract other pretty people, but the vibes they gave off were very different. They were constantly having silent conversations between themselves, checking for opinions as they listened to other people's stories and laughing at inside jokes together. Luckily for Scott, he noticed her eyes would stray over to him frequently, especially when he would start to laugh over something silly.

The most interesting observation seemed to be that while Stiles was away, Scott, Jackson and Isaac had gotten pretty close. Stiles didn't really remember much about Isaac, but he seemed nice enough. He was actually a lot like Stiles in that he was fairly smart, sarcastic, and generally nice to be around, but he had a air of newly self-built confidence around him.

Jackson was the opposite, but to Stiles' surprise, he wasn't as bad as he remembered. Jackson exuded cockiness, that he expected, but he could tell that Jackson was a lot less of a jerk than he used to be when he handed the rest of his food to Isaac before he even had the chance to ask for it. Stiles figured he would be the hardest one to understand, because nothing he said was actually what he meant.

Stiles' thoughts were interrupted when Scott tried to reel Stiles into a conversation about lacrosse, but Stiles was contented to listen to the three guys recap the season so far.

Stiles gradually started feeling a bit more comfortable than he had in the beginning, but something kept nagging at him in the back of his mind: why had Scott told his friends so much about him, yet Stiles was clueless about them? He had heard about Allison, mostly because that was all he talked about, but why hadn't he ever heard of his friendships with the others, especially after Stiles found out he was going to be moving back? They all seemed close. Really, really close. They talked about hanging out on weekends, going to movies, and playing video games all weekend, yet Stiles couldn't remember a single time Scott ever mentioned them.

It was strange. Stiles knew that it was crazy of him to make assumptions from a few passing comments, but something in his gut told him Scott was hiding something.

"Do you have any classes with us?" Isaac asked, holding out his hand expectantly. Stiles shifted so he could pull his schedule from his back pocket and handed it to him. Isaac and Allison looked over it intently, and Jackson snuck a peek, trying and failing to look like he didn't care.

"Chemistry with Scott and Isaac, Math with Scott and Erica, most of the classes with Boyd or Erica if not both, AP classes with Me and Lydia. How did you manage not to have a single class with Jackson?" Allison asked.

"Lucky I guess," Stiles grinned.

Jackson rolled his eyes and Scott elbowed him again. Stiles sucked in air through his teeth and rubbed it until the pain faded. #WorthIt.

"So Scott said your dad is the new Sheriff," Boyd said. It was the first time Boyd had spoken out loud.

"Yeah, he was a deputy here when we lived here before. I guess enough people remembered him from back in the day that when he was nominated, people accepted him."

"Did he tell you how the position opened up?"

Everyone at the table stopped, and eyes were on him. If they were trying to seem subtle, they had definitely failed. Fortunately, though, this Stiles had anticipated. He considered whether he should divulge his true opinions or keep his ideas to himself. After an encouraging nod from Scott, he shrugged.

"Dad told me what they are telling people happened, yeah," he said.

Boyd's flitted to Scott, then he forced a small smile.

"You say that like you don't believe the story."

"I don't."

Boyd looked at him expectantly, as if waiting for him to elaborate. Erica squeezed his arm gently, not tearing her eyes from Stiles, keeping her expression soft. Scott gave him a look and Stiles relented.

Stiles sighed. "My Dad is going to kill me." He looked up to the ceiling as if he were praying for strength to survive. "They are saying it was a mugging or something near the park. That the guy was at the wrong place at the wrong time, got his stuff taken and killed for his trouble."

"That's what I heard too. Sounds reasonable enough, right?" Allison asked, laughing nervously.

Stiles scoffed. "Sure, if he was getting mugged by Wolverine. I haven't seen the crime scene photos yet, but from the conversations I've heard the last few days about the absolute carnage left behind, I don't see how it could be just a simple mugging. They're missing something, they just don't want to admit it yet."

Stiles pretended not to notice Scott tensing beside him. It was no secret Scott wasn't a fan of blood, but he didn't want to embarrass him by pointing it out.

"What does that even mean?" Lydia asked.

"What does what mean?"

"Mugged by Wolverine?"

"Wolverine. You know. X-Men. Wolver-you don't-you don't know who Wolverine is?" Stiles asked, his hands flailing then falling flat on the table, his eyebrows furrowed in distress.

She gave him an incredulous look, her perfect curls bouncing as she shook her head. He ran his hand down his face.

Jackson handed Lydia his phone and her lips turned down. "Man in tights. Not bad."

Allison rolled her eyes and the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.

"Nice to meet you, again, Stiles," Allison said again, grabbing her bag and pulling it over her shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah, it was truly a pleasure. I need to borrow your calculator so let's go," Jackson said, ushering her away. Scott huffed beside him, and Stiles rolled his eyes. Scott was as oblivious as always.

*****

Everything was messed up.

Cora honestly couldn't decide which was worse, living states away with a bunch of strangers that she couldn't get along with to save her life, or finally being able to come home and dealing with all the frivolous drama that came with it.

Don't get her wrong, she was glad that Derek allowed her to come back home. She loved him and she was really glad that finally someone was starting to treat her like an adult, but having to deal with school and her brother's complicated Pack dynamics was stressful.

Being back home was annoying. Living in South America was worse.

Being away from her home, the last bit of family she had left, it had almost killed her. She didn't want to eat. She couldn't sleep. When she did sleep, it was interrupted by nightmares. Often times she would wake up in the dark, thinking the smoke had enveloped her completely. If that weren't enough, she felt more isolated than she had in her whole life. She was the only human in the Pack, which she was used to, but at least when she was home she was bonded with her family.

She sat in the library, head in her hands, trying not to think about all of the homework assignments that were piling up. Derek had said school was one of the conditions to her moving back in with him, but what exactly did that mean? What was he going to do when she got her grades back? Was he going to ship her back off like Laura had? Would he even feel bad?

She sighed. That wasn't fair. Derek had never wanted her to go, but when Laura decided on something, there wasn't really anything anyone could do to change her mind. As much as Cora didn't want to, she was going to have to talk to him. Good thing talking about feelings was a Hale family specialty.

When the bell rang for lunch, she rolled her eyes. As if her brother and his Pack didn't have enough to argue about, Scott's token human friend was supposed to have his first day today. Not that she wasn't curious what all the hype was about, but she didn't understand why Scott was fighting so hard to let his friend in on all their secrets when he was constantly pointing out how dangerous it was to let Cora stay here.

So, just to spite him, she was here, continuing to work on homework she didn't know how to do, and was too stubborn to ask for help with.

Before she knew it, lunch was over with only a little bit of progress to show for it. She walked begrudgingly to Chemistry, knowing that Harris was probably going to pester her about her revisions from their lab the previous week.

Cora walked to her spot, sitting down, dramatically opening her Chemistry book. Her up and coming best friend, Nina, nudged her with her shoulder has she settled in beside her.

"Did you hear there was a new senior?"

"Unfortunately," She replied icily, pulling a snack from her bag. Nina gave her an odd look. She interpreted it as "what the fuck is up with you?" despite the fact that Nina would never actually use those words. "Apparently he's going to be hanging around my brother's group."

"Oh," Nina smirked, knowingly. "The Hot Hale Harem?"

Cora almost choked on her granola bar, making Nina's smirk grow to a full on grin. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"You love me."

Cora rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help but laugh with her. Nina was different, but she honestly found it kind of refreshing. It was hard for her to remember to think about normal things like boys and shopping, but Nina didn't mind pulling her into her normie girl stuff.

"So, I was thinking," Nina started.

Cora took a deep breath. "No."

"You didn't even hear what I was going to say," she pouted.

"Fine. It'll still be a no, but continue."

"So you know how we have that test on Friday? I was thinking we could invite the guys to study with us."

(Find the rest on AO3 href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27811303"><strong>The Unshaped</strong></a> (16100 words) by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infernal_panda"><strong>Infernal_panda</strong></a><br />Chapters: 2/?<br />Fandom: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/tags/Teen%20Wolf%20(TV)">Teen Wolf (TV)</a><br />Rating: Not Rated<br />Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence<br />Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes<br />Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Jackson Whittemore, Vernon Boyd, Erica Reyes, Sheriff Stilinski, Melissa McCall, Peter Hale, Cora Hale, Laura Hale<br />Additional Tags: BAMF Stiles, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Pining, Underage Drinking, Fluff, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Romance, Friendship, Humor, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Supernatural Elements, mentions of abuse, eventually, Happy Ending<br />Summary: <p>After leaving Beacon Hills at age 8, Stiles never stopped feeling the indescribable pull, beckoning him back home. A new Sheriff position opening up gives him the chance to move back, and it’s everything Stiles ever wanted. He has his dad, his best friend, and he’s back where he belongs. </p><p>His first day back doesn’t exactly go as planned, and now he is finding that he was even less normal than he thought. </p><p>****</p><p>A Hale Pack fanfic with all of our lovable characters as they try to integrate Stiles into their wolfyhood and crazy monster-filled lives with Stiles as their unknowing magic friend, and a bit of intertwined fates to keep things interesting )