#I wanted to draw Gretchen but uh

[ghostatservice]

Guys I think I went a little insane-

[a-simple-imagine]

Perfectly Pathetic

synopsis: when you take an interest in the new girl, regina takes an interest in you

pairing: regina george x plastics!fem!reader

words: 4.6k+

A/N - in the nicest of ways, please DO NOT read this if you don't want to read about toxic relationships. you have been warned. I don't want a repeat of last time. also we need more fics where regina is actually mean so

WARNINGS - swearing, alcohol use, general toxicity, toxic relationships and bullying/vague reference to weight

Buy me a ko-fi

the clash of plastic trays and idle chatter brought alive the fragile student body of North Shore High School. on the outside this may seem like any other lunch room but inside it was a carefully crafted game of chess. every move was calculated. each person has their place and if you stray too far you're at risk. you're sat next to Gretchen Weiners. known for big hair and keeping secrets, she knows everything about everyone. opposite her is Karen Shetty. she... tries her best and looks adorable doing it. a ray of sunshine if you get to know her. and before you sits the most beautiful woman you have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Regina George. effortlessly perfect but needlessly cruel. she was the most popular person in school and one of your best friends.

perfectly manicured nails stab into the skin of your cheek as your head is yanked in her direction. razor-sharp eyes stare back. "are you even listening?" the answer was no but you didn't want to say that. "what are you staring at?"

a flash of blonde as she looks behind her. you push against her grip to look too. across the room sat Janis 'imi'ike and Damian Hubbard. you hardly ever spoke to them but you were lab partners with Damian. he was funny. today, however, there was a new addition with strawberry blonde hair, a blue checkered shirt and brown pants. you knew everyone at this school to some degree. a curse of popularity. but you had never seen her before. "seems they've got themselves a new friend"

"who cares," her nails dig a little deeper drawing a pained expression as she pulls your head back to face her. She holds your gaze for a moment. a silent challenge. before fingertips glide across your cheek and she goes back to leading the conversation across the table. you pick at the food on the tray with a fork but you can't help but be intrigued. North Shore was boring and predictable. a direct result of being under Regina's control. but this girl was new and you couldn't help but be drawn to that. to the unknown. to the possibility. three pairs of eyes as you push up from the table and march across the room.

"I haven't seen you around here before." was all you could think to say as you approached the end of the table. Janis and Damian share a look before settling on... confusion. You weren't ever particularly mean to others but you were guilty by association. people mess with you. they mess with Regina.

"oh," by the look on her face, she already knew who you were or at the very least your friends. "it's my first day."

"Where did you transfer from?"

"uh... Kenya," she seems unsure. you put it down to nerves.

"you sure about that?" a curious raise of your brow. "'cause you don't sound-"

"we're leaving" stated firmly as three girls breeze past. the blonde leads the way. the other two are just a step behind.

"so what made you move all the way here from Kenya?"

"my mom got a new job."

"couldn't find one-"

the sound of your name echoes through the room bringing the world to a stop. a weird silence settles over the room. "come. now." growled through gritted teeth and paired with snapping fingers. you were being summoned like a naughty dog ignoring their owner. a sigh as all eyes fall to you. waiting to see what you'd do but make no mistake, they already knew the answer.

"I'll see you around." a flash of a smile before you scamper after Regina.

"so your ears do work." is all the girl says as she shoves you through the door. you bite back any comment because that was how this worked. you may be top of the food chain to everyone else but Regina led the pack.

as the final bell for the day rings, you're shoving things in your locker when you spot the new girl. she seems to be struggling to even open it. you watch her for a moment. a smirk settling. this was another chance to talk and this time Regina couldn't demand your presence. "need some help?" it seemed to take her by surprise as a handful of papers drifted to the floor. a small chuckle, you reach down to collect her work and hand it back. "how's your first day going?"

she shrugs, taking the papers. "it's alright."

"anyone giving you any trouble?" you ask, falling to lean against the lockers. people around here were not nice and took every chance to show it. some more than others. She shakes her head. "you sure? if anyone does anything, I can sort them out." you give her a knowing look and she offers a sort of amused smile. "so you do know how to smile, it's cute. are you gonna tell me your name or am I gonna have to guess?"

"it's cady. Cady heron."

"well, cady heron. the trick to these," you tap her locker door with your knuckle. "is to push in and pull up before trying to open it. annoying, I know but they're old." you watch her try again and this time it swings open. "see."

"Thanks." you linger as they shove some of their stuff inside. you notice a few stray stickers on the locker opposite.

"no problem." you push up from the metal. "I can show you all types of tricks to get through this hellscape if you want?" she shuts her locker and you both start walking towards the exit. "number one tip, avoid Regina."

"Isn't she your friend?"

"yeah," you nod. "that's why I said it. She can be... a lot. surely Janis told you that."

Cady looks at you for a long moment. "something like that." you let out a chuckle. Janis probably told her what a massive bitch Regina was. they had a less than favourable history.

"I should go. I'll see you around Cady Heron." as you both go your separate ways, you can't help but glance at her as she walks away.

having a study period just before lunch was both an absolutely ridiculous idea and the best thing to happen to your schedule. it basically guaranteed you didn't do any work whatsoever and felt more like a two-hour lunch period. seems you shared it with the new girl because she was sitting at a table scribbling in a book alongside Janis who was doing her normal embroidery or whatever.

"if it isn't Cady Heron," you comment, taking a seat on the bench. her face brightens at the sight.

"where's the rest of the coven?" Janis asks, not even bothering to look up from her work. "wait- don't tell me, a house fell on them."

"you're so funny Janis," an exaggerated sarcastic laugh.

"I think I can hear children singing... ding... dong the witch-"

"So Cady, how are you enjoying north shore?" you interrupt loudly and the 'song' trails off.

"It's fine."

"you don't talk much huh?"

her mouth opens but falls silent as Gretchen approaches the end of the table. she shoots you a less than favourable look. your brow furrows a little.

"Can I talk to you," pitch a little too high to say no.

"Sure," a shrug. you look at her for a long moment waiting for her to continue.

"in private," Gretchen urges. with a roll of your eyes, you stand up. flashing a smile at Cady, Gretchen grabs your hand and drags you away before you can say anything.

"what are you doing?" whisper yelled at you.

"I was just talking." god this girl was dramatic. you take your usual spot. she sits opposite.

"to the art freaks?"

"dude, it's fine."

"no it's not." she urges quickly, shaking her head "You know how Regina gets."

"Regina isn't here?" and she wouldn't be until lunch. only you and Gretchen share this free period. usually, you spend it listening to her gossip about people. she could not keep a secret to save her life at least not when it came to anyone outside of you and your friends; even then it's dicey. fun for you though.

"All I'm saying is you need to be careful,"

"don't worry. I was only interested in the new girl."

"that's worse," you just roll your eyes. "Regina doesn't like her."

"Regina doesn't even know her," you argue. "none of us do. she's been here like a week."

Gretchen thinks the idea of even wanting to talk to Cady is blasphemy. that it's better to avoid her but you think she's overreacting. Cady hadn't established herself at this school yet. right now she is with Janis but tomorrow who knows? she could be cool. it's a matter of perspective.

a pretty perfect smile does little to distract from playful eyes as you approach her jeep. the blonde is in the driver's seat. one hand rested over the steering wheel. the other typing something on her phone. She had sent a message telling you to hurry up but on arrival, neither Karen nor Gretchen were even here yet. you toss your bag in the back, climbing into your usual spot behind the driver's seat. Karen is usually next to you. "sit in the front, weirdo," she comments. you don't bother with a comeback, just moving to the front passenger seat.

"Where are the others?" you ask, glancing at her. the soft glow of the afternoon sun kissed her skin beautifully. black shades hang on the end of her nose. She really was something to be admired. Regina shrugs and then tosses her phone down. the car roars to life and you're starting down the road before you can think any more about it. it's pretty silent at first. the sound of the radio filling the space. the lack of your two other friends acting as a buffer was sitting weirdly. this wasn't your first time alone with Regina but she's been so grumpy lately. whatever you say feels like an invitation.

"so you like the new girl?" asked casually as she came to an abrupt stop at a red light. you just forward, the seatbelt digging into your neck. it drags up a quick cough but that could also be from surprise. other than that first interaction where she'd summoned you from across the room, you had never spoken to Cady when she was around. Gretchen may be dramatic but she probably wasn't wrong and you really didn't feel like risking it.

"Sorry?" feign confusion was... a choice but it seemed like the better option here.

"you like the new girl," repeated calmly; her eyes drift to you as yours move towards the traffic light. was this the longest red light in history? "right?"

now it's your turn to shrug. you find Cady intriguing but you're not entirely sure if it's interested in the way Regina is implying or just because you were so bored of the every day. "she's cool." a scoff as she pulls away continuing down the road. "you've hardly spoken to her."

"don't need to," Regina didn't miss a beat. Cady definitely didn't fit into what she'd consider cool but then again, neither had you. not entirely anyway and now you're here. you hang out with the most popular people in school. went to the hottest parties. you were currently being driven around by the Regina George. you never understood why or maybe you did and just refused to accept it was that simple. you know what everyone else says. that it's because of the attention you show her. you wouldn't necessarily say they're wrong but everyone gave her attention. She did always say there was something special about you. "I thought you at least had standards."

the rest of the car ride is silent as you think over what she said and Regina keeps to herself. the music is the only thing, keeping you sane until you pull up at the George residence. you always forget just how big her house is until you're there. As you walk inside, her mum appears abruptly startling you a little.

"hey, ms. George."

"hey girls," she singsonged. "how was school?"

"fine," Regina shoots back.

"well if you need anything? a drink? some snacks? advice? I'm here,"

"I'd actually love an iced-"

"we're good," growled as she grabbed your wrist hauling you up the stairs. "don't bother us." a confused look but she didn't let go until you were firmly inside her bedroom. door slammed shut. the blonde tosses her bag down.

"you should really be nicer to your mom, she adores you," you say idly taking a seat on the end of her bed, placing your bag down.

"you should shut up because it's none of your fucking business."

jesus christ. you kinda regret the decision to come over. "I just wanted an iced tea. maybe a little snack."

"god knows you don't need it," Regina comments. wow. okay. she was in a mood.

"what's up with you?"

"I'm fine," she responds. "you're just being so fucking annoying recently."

"I haven't done anything?" you've not been acting any differently so you have no clue what she's talking about.

"just absolutely drooling over the new girl. it's embarrassing." she declares, taking a seat on the bed.

"I..." you stop yourself because you're more confused than anything else. "we've spoken like once."

"liar" she responds. "I know you've been talking all the time," fucking Gretchen. "do you think she's pretty?"

"Cady?" Regina nods. you shrug. "I guess."

"prettier than me?" her head tilts. you can't tell if she was jealous or fishing for compliments; neither was her style. so it was probably a trap.

"no." you wanna say she's being dramatic but that wouldn't end well. She doesn't say anything, hardly even reacts. just cold eyes. Is she expecting you to say more? "of course not." you're waiting for the ball to drop. for her to make a snide comment or something. anything was better than nothing. but it just never comes. she takes out her phone and starts typing. you fall back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. you both just sit in the quiet. you're worried about saying anything that'll lead to more insults. god knows what she is doing on her phone.

"you're so pathetic." Regina eventually says. you'd take offence if you weren't used to it; basically a term of endearment at this point. you can hear her moving but don't bother looking until she's towering over you. dark eyes and a small smile that would seem genuine coming from anyone else. a hand cups your cheek but no nails follow; it's gentle and slow as she runs her thumb over your skin. what was happening right now? "do you ever think about me?" you blink a few times trying to make sense of everything. why was she being so nice? why was she being so gentle? why did she ask that?

"what do you mean?"

a roll of her pretty eyes. "you know what I mean." you did but surely not.

"I... don't know what to say."

"Because I think about you," your breathing hitches as you sit up. looking at her properly. "those pretty eyes," she moves closer. "these lips," her thumb runs over your bottom lip. you swallow hard. "do you wanna kiss me?" you just stare back. a smirk as she ghosts your lips.

"say you wanna kiss me." this felt cruel. you lean in and she pulls back slightly. a finger pressed against your lips. her expression is colder now. sharp. "say it."

"I... wanna kiss you," you dare and that smirk quickly returns. removing her finger, Regina leans in and connects your lips. it's soft and slow. not at all like you imagined kissing Regina George would feel like... until the girl pushes into you and it's exactly like you imagined. fast. forceful. like she wanted to devour you. A hand pushes you back against her massive bed and she moves to straddle your hips. your heart is beating so loudly you wouldn't be surprised if she could hear it.

"still thinking about the new girl?"

"I never-" You feel her press a little harder against your chest so you change your answer. "no." Regina tosses her hair over one shoulder, and a finger under your chin pushes your head up.

"I don't think you should talk to her anymore," Regina states before leaning down to connect your lips once more. "understood?"

you're too caught up in the moment to really gauge how serious she was being so you nod. "good girl." whispered against your lips.

Regina George had always been a lot. She always demanded attention and you often gave her it. you weren't ashamed of that. She knew you'd do anything for her. As did most of the school.

"Hey," Cady suddenly appears beside you in the hallway. she seems a lot more relaxed around you which was nice to see. however, you have not spoken to them since that weird night with Regina. She wouldn't like it. plus Gretchen would probably snitch on you immediately. "so we should probably figure out a time to work on our project." you've been paired up for an assignment in American literature.

"We can do it today after school if you want?" she nods. "I'll meet you out front."

"hey Cady," Karen slides up beside you on the other side, instantly looping your arms. ever the pleasant company. you wonder if she just wanted to see you or get you away from Cady. probably the former.

"I'll see you later," you say to the new girl before turning to your friend. "what do you want?"

"you're coming to Connor's party Saturday?"

"Obviously,"

"I have the perfect-"

"no," you respond instantly. you loved Karen. she was genuinely the sweetest person you know. but at every party, she tries to give you a Karen Shetty special aka a makeover. and every single time you have to say no.

"but I have the perfect outfit for you."

"is it actually perfect for me or just slutty."

"Both," Karen states excitedly. "please," pleading eyes as she draws you closer, hugging your arm. "please please please."

a loud groan. "fine."

"Really?" her eyes light up and circulation quickly returns to your arm. you nod at her which leads to excited clapping. maybe it wouldn't be so bad. maybe it was the perfect outfit for you but also sexy enough to satisfy Karen.

"oh here," you reach into your bag and produce a homemade friendship bracelet. you'd been tutoring some younger students for extra credit but sometimes you just hung out with them. "made them with some of the kids so,"

"ah thank you," she takes it eagerly. you had one for Gretchen and Regina too. only one of them would appreciate it though.

"why were you chatting with Cady?" Karen asks, sliding on her bracelet as she takes your arm once more.

"we're doing a project together," you explain. "you were literally just in class with us Karen."

"oh yeah," she smiles brightly. "I'm starving." you chuckle a little and allow her to eagerly pull you towards the dining room.

you're sitting on the grass. Cady is talking in your ear as you stare into the distance. most students had gone home already. The rest were working on homework or projects or extracurricular activities. you arranged this meeting but god were you bored. no offence to Cady but you kinda wish you'd been paired with Karen so you could be fucking about right now and then rush the work the night before it's due.

"are you going to the party Saturday?" you ask idly.

"What party?"

"oh shit." you forgot she was hanging out with Janis and Damian who definitely wouldn't have been invited. "connor mckay is having a party. The dudes a mess, big house though. you should come,"

"don't think I was invited,"

"I'm inviting you."

"not sure that's how it works."

"Just come Cady," you insist. "you can bring Janis and Damian too if you want. everyone will be too fucked to notice."

"uh, thanks then" she smiles a little, glancing back at her textbook. "I'll think about it."

"you have to think about attending your first high school party?" you question. laying down on your back. "I'll be there," you turn your head to look at them. "it'll be fun." you watch her carefully and soon she smiles.

"Okay, yeah."

"well that was easy," should have just started by stating you'll be there. "Be careful, Cady." you tease, looking back to clouds passing by but you can't help but smirk a little. "I'll start thinking you like me."

sat in the back of Regina's jeep as she fixes her hair in the overhead mirror, Karen inspects your face while Gretchen is copying Regina by fixing her hair. "can we just go in," you insist, slapping Karen's hands away. "before I regret coming."

"Why would you regret coming?" Gretchen questions, looking around at you.

"I feel stupid,"

"you look amazing," Karen urges. "perfect."

"you would say that."

"stop whining," Regina insists. flipping up her mirror. "you look hot. now let's go."

finally. "I'm gonna get so fucked up," you state as you step out of the car. walking beside Regina with Gretchen and Karen a step behind. the party is already alive. started at six. It was eight.

you reach the point in every party where you just don't want to be there anymore pretty quickly tonight. you're suddenly so aware of how annoying everyone is. sat on the kitchen counter, you swing your legs back and forth as you sip whatever was in your cup. Gretchen gave it to you. the party passes around you like you're not even there until an all too familiar blonde appears. "you look sad," you'd mistake that for genuine concern if it wasn't Regina "Already at sad drunk, that's impressive."

"what do you want Regina?" she had basically ignored you since you arrived so why she suddenly thought you were worthy of her presence, you'll never know. Shane was the object of her disgustingly public displays of affection tonight. "thought you'd be too busy with Shane."

"god, you're so obsessed with Shane," a roll of her eyes as she takes the cup from your hand to help herself. you watch her as the red cup comes to painted lips. not a hair out of place. so perfect. Regina was perfect. it was annoying

"I invited Cady tonight," you state, snatching your cup back.

"ew. why? I thought we agreed you weren't going near Cady anymore," technically you did. practically it wasn't that deep. who cares.

"And Janis and Damian but mostly to get Cady here,"

"desperate to hang out with losers," Regina sighs. "is she here?"

you shrug. "too many people. too big a house. I haven't looked, to be honest."

"Well," a hand finds its way to your thigh, running up and then down softly. "if you're good tonight maybe I'll give you a little treat."

"don't," you push her hand away. "go back to your boyfriend."

"he's not my boyfriend,"

"well whatever he is," you jump down off the countertop. "you made it very clear that I'm not what you want."

"you're so dramatic," she pushes up too. "I hate when you get drunk."

"Whatever."

"fuck sake," Regina responds. "you act like I said we're together or something."

"you're such an asshole," you huff. "I'm gonna find Cady."

"good luck with that,"

there are so many people at this party. you're not sure who half of them even are but they all seem to know you as you stumble around after the new girl. a constant barrage of 'hellos' and 'you look hot' in various forms. it's tiring. annoying. and you're about to give up and go find Gretchen so she can rub your back to make you feel better when you spot her. She was looking as awkward as ever. "you came." shouted over the thump of the music

"yeah," her face lit up. "Damian too. Janis said she'd rather jump off a bridge than come so..."

"That sounds... exactly like her," you nod. "I like..." you glance at her outfit. Regina would hate it. you don't love it. "your outfit. very school teacher chic."

"Thanks," she replies. "I didn't have anything to wear so,"

"it's cool. I'm just happy someone here isn't gonna irritate me- do you want a drink?"

"Sure," she nods. "do they have juice?"

"uh... probably somewhere." who asks for juice at a party? "I'll check. stay here."

you wander off back to the kitchen in search of some juice. your first stop is the fridge which is very stocked. you briefly scan for anything open, sweet and edible before just grabbing a carton of fresh orange and deciding that will do. pouring her a glass before heading back. she's still in the same spot only a particular blonde in the tightest little black dress has decided to strike up a conversation. you immediately know something is wrong. Regina can't stand Cady. it's why you told her you admitted to inviting her so easily. You wanted to piss her off. you can't make out what is happening but as you make your approach the redhead leaves. Regina turns to you with a sugary sweet smile betrayed by her eyes. "hey baby girl, feeling any better?"

"What did you say to her?"

"why do you have a glass of" brow knitted as she tapped her nail against the glass. "orange juice?"

"What did you say to her?"

"who?" you let her have the glass and she takes a sip. a visible look of disgust. "is there anything in this?"

"It's just fresh orange,"

"what the fuck? are you trying to sober up or what?"

"it was for Cady," you explain. "what did you say?"

the blonde shrugs. "she just had to go. not my fault." you don't believe her. why would you? She has a track record of being a conniving person who'll make trouble just for the sake of it. it'd be naive to think she didn't do anything."

"Why do you have to be such a fucking bitch all of the time," you grumble loudly. a hand snaps around your wrist and suddenly you're yanked closer to her. hot breath sending a shiver down your spine.

"I let you off before because you were all sad and tragic but don't think you can ever talk to me like that," growled in your ear before she abruptly shoved you away. "Cady left. get over it."

"she only left because you said something,"

"she left because she realised you don't like her," the blonde snapped. such a pretty poison came in the form of Regina George as she turned her gaze on you. She was pissed but kept it quietly contained to just beneath the music so nobody else had a clue. "that you've just been stringing her along. pretending to be her friend. all because I wasn't showing you enough attention," she's close again. too close. she wasn't physically that tall but right she seemed massive as she loomed over you. her eyes flicker to your lips and back up. did she wanna kiss you or kill you? neither seemed smart. "she realised that you belong to me."

"I'm not a dog Regina."

"you sure about that," a mean glint in those pretty eyes. "you wanted my attention. you got it." she shoves the orange juice back in your hand. it's contents splashing your hand. "don't cry about it now." and with that she turns on her heel and disappears into the crowd

// NEXT

[meangirls-imagines]

Can I have a Janis 'Imi'ike x femme reader imagine where they’re friends and reader finds Janis’ sketchbook which is full of sketches of reader?

Life Imitates Art

WARNINGS: none, just fluff. janis being a gay mess.

Janis Imi'ike and Y/N Y/L/N have been best friends since they were in diapers.

Their parents were best friends in college and stuck together for years. So it was like they were destined to be together.

Y/N was there for Janis through everything, but they got even closer after the Regina incident. Janis had gone to Y/N's house crying after what happened and the two, along with Damian, spent the rest of that night watching the girl's favorite movies.

Janis fell in love with Y/N that night.

Years and years of denying their feelings brings them to senior year, aka "post-bitchy regina".

Everyone was friends so it was a lot easier to go through their last year together. Instantly, (without Janis and Y/N's knowledge), everyone decided that senior year was going to be "Project Get Y/N and Janis Together".

Regina, Janis, and Y/N all had homeroom together and Regina began texting in the group chat.

(Former) Queen Bitch👑: guys. they are staring at each other. the tension is suffocating.

Detective Gretchen🕵️‍♀️: OMG! That is ADORABLE!

Sexy Maus🐭: thats so qute

Nerd: awwww. guys, maybe we don't need a plan. let's let them work through it.

Beyonce: uh. have you met janis? that girl doesn't know how to act around y/n. we need to intervene. and there's only one way.

(Former) Queen Bitch👑: damian. no. not that.

Nerd: what is going on?

Beyonce: this is classified information. no one can tell janis or y/n this. karen? got it?

Sexy Maus🐭: what?

Detective Gretchen🕵️‍♀️: I got it. Now what is it?

Beyonce: Janis's sketchbook. It's got tons of beautiful drawings of Y/N in it. Regina and I stumbled upon it accidentally a couple of weeks ago.

Detective Gretchen🕵️‍♀️: OMG!!

Nerd: THAT'S SO CUTE!

Beyonce: I think it's time we subtly show Y/N the book.

That weekend, the group all met up at Janis's house for their weekly sleepover. Damian decided to put his plan into motion. Whenever Janis was distracted, he snuck upstairs and put her sketchbook in plain sight, then he snuck back downstairs.

Then he put it into motion.

"Hey, Y/N. I was wondering if I could have some ibuprofen? I have a headache and I know you always have some." The girl smiled and nodded, standing from her place next to Janis and heading upstairs.

Janis watched the girl go and turned back to see everyone smirking at her. "What?" Damian giggled. "Girl, keep it in your pants." Janis blushed. "What are you talking about?" Gretchen squealed. "You totally have a crush on Y/N! It's so cute!"

Janis blushed harder. "I do not have a crush on her! She's my best friend." Karen smiled. "Your best friend that you wanna kiss. Which is really cool because Gretchen is my best friend that I wanna kiss."

Everyone paused and looked at Gretchen, who was blushing harder than Janis. Regina broke the silence. "Okay, we'll come back to this. But Janis, they're right. You and Y/N have feelings for each other and I think it's time that you tell her. It's our senior year. We don't know what the future holds, we just don't want you to regret not telling her."

Janis took the blonde's words to heart and nodded. "Okay, I'll tell her." She got up and with the cheering from her friends, she went upstairs to talk to Y/N.

"Y/N, I need to tell you something."

Janis froze in her tracks. Y/N was looking at her sketchbook. Specifially, a portrait that she drew of Y/N. Janis stuttered over her words. "Y/N, I can explain."

"This is beautiful, Janis. Is this how you see me?" Janis swallowed hard and nodded, walking closer to Y/N.

"It's how I've always seen you." Y/N's breath hitched as Janis continued.

"Y/N. I love you. I've loved you since you comforted me after the incident with Regina. Maybe even longer. And I really wanna be with you. Those pictures I've drawn don't even compare to your actual beauty. Every time I look at you, the rest of the world melts away. And if you give me the chance, I really wanna be with you."

Janis couldn't say anything else because Y/N kissed her.

Y/N was kissing her.

Y/N WAS KISSING HER?

The girl's lips were a lot softer than Janis imagined. It was everything she imagined actually, and more. The two kissed for a minute before cheering made them break away from each other.

They looked to see their friends standing in the hallway, all smiling widely.

Y/N tucked her face into Janis's neck, hiding her blush. Damian spoke. "So?"

Janis smirked back at him. "My girlfriend and I will meet you guys downstairs."

[erikahenningsen]

🎲🎲🎲 !!!!!!

8. A platonic kiss (spoiler alert: it isn't)

"Can I ask you something?"

Regina looks up from her history textbook, pen paused in the middle of writing the word reformation. She's seated on Cady's bed, notebook in her lap.

She's been spending more and more of her afternoons in Cady's room, doing homework in companionable silence. It's the only way Cady's mom lets her hang out with friends until she brings her calculus grade back up. Strangely, Regina finds she'd rather be here, studying for her AP exam, than walking around the mall or teaching Gretchen how to Dutch braid her hair.

If she spends half the time staring at Cady out of the corner of her eye, heart beating a little faster every time she does that cute nose scrunch thing when she's on a particularly difficult problem, that's nobody's business but her own.

"What's up?" Regina asks.

"What's it like kissing Aaron?" Cady asks.

The m in reformation turns into a jagged line down Regina's notebook page. She stares at Cady, certain she's heard wrong. "What?"

"You've kissed him. I've seen you do it," Cady says, as if that's where the confusion is coming from. "What's it like?"

"Why are you asking me this?" Regina says, feeling her cheeks warm. She's not sure why she's blushing; she isn't the one asking ridiculous questions here. "Haven't you kissed him?"

Cady shakes her head. "I've never kissed anyone," she admits quietly.

"Okay, so..." Regina says. "Then kiss your boyfriend?"

Cady lets out an annoyed huff. "But I can't! He's used to kissing you." Cady throws her arm out towards Regina and Regina isn't sure if she should be offended. "And you're good at that stuff." She pauses. "I mean, you are, right?"

"Uh," Regina says dumbly.

"And what if I'm bad at it?" Cady continues, more softly.

Regina shrugs. "Who cares?"

"I care!" Cady says. "There have been a few times where I could tell he was about to kiss me and I just freaked out and made up some excuse."

"Cady, what do you want me to do about it?" Regina asks, a little desperately. This conversation is bringing up all of her fantasies about kissing Cady, the ones she only allows herself to think about late at night when she's trying to fall asleep—definitely not in Cady's bedroom with her sitting right there.

Cady takes a deep breath. "Will you kiss me?"

Regina's pen falls from her slackened grip, bouncing off the bed and clattering to the floor. She opens her mouth, then closes it again, then opens it and manages to force out a "huh?"

"Please?" Cady asks. "You know what he likes. It's perfect."

It isn't perfect. It's objectively a bad idea. Her crush on Cady almost burned down the entire school, and they hadn't really ever even hugged.

"And we're friends," Cady adds, "so it wouldn't be weird, right?"

Friends. Friends! Regina's brain grabs onto the word. She can do this, as a friendly favor to Cady. Nothing more. It's a win-win, really—Cady gets some experience and Regina can finally get whatever this fixation on Cady is out of her system.

Before she can really think it through, Regina finds herself nodding. "Yeah," she says, her voice cracking. She clears her throat. "Right. Sure."

Cady's face lights up. "Oh my gosh, thanks!"

They stare at each other for a moment.

"Well, come here," Regina says. She draws the line at climbing into Cady's lap in her little desk chair.

Cady stands immediately, seeming to forget the calculator in her lap, which hits the rug with a thud. She comes and sits next to Regina on the bed and angles her body to face her, their faces a few inches apart.

Regina suddenly feels nervous. She's never been nervous about kissing someone before—but those were just boys. They didn't matter. She has to make this good for Cady, so Cady will want to kiss her again.

Regina catches the thought and buries it. So Cady can kiss Aaron, she corrects herself.

"Um, here," Regina murmurs, scooting a bit closer and lifting one of Cady's hands to her shoulder. It feels cool against her overheated skin.

"Okay," Cady whispers, and Regina can feel it against her lips in a way that makes her shiver. She puts a hand on the back of Cady's neck, takes a deep breath, and leans in.

Cady's lips are cool and dry but soft, and Regina has to focus on not immediately pressing Cady into the mattress. She applies just a hint of pressure, not much more than a meaningful press of lips. Cady inhales sharply but doesn't move.

Regina pulls back a bit. "Cady, you have to work with me here," she says, her voice only shaking a little.

"Oh, uh, okay," Cady says, seeming confused.

Before she can think about it, Regina reaches a hand up to Cady's lips and parts them just slightly. "Now tilt your head a bit," she says, and when Cady does, she leans in again.

This time, Regina's lips slot between Cady's, catching Cady's top lip in between both of hers. This time, Cady's mouth moves with hers, tentative at first, clumsy, but it sends something hot and electric down Regina's spine.

Emboldened, Regina presses closer, fingers flexing against the back of Cady's neck, and Cady responds with a soft sound that Regina knows will never stop playing in her brain, even on her deathbed.

Regina pulls back a little, her lips sliding over Cady's now tacky with spit and Regina's lip gloss, adjusts the angle of her head. Without thinking, she grips Cady's upper thigh with her other hand, and Cady arches into her. Heat burns through Regina's body, blooming in her chest and spreading down to pool below her stomach, and alarm bells start going off in her head.

Regina pulls back more suddenly than she means to, and Cady falls into her a little before she catches herself. Cady is breathing hard, her pupils dilated, her lips reddened. Regina desperately wishes she could delete the last five minutes from her brain because she has no idea how she's going to be able to think about anything else for the rest of her life, and she has her AP European History exam in two weeks.

"Wow," Cady says, a little breathlessly. She runs a hand through her hair. "I see why Aaron liked kissing you. Thanks." She laughs a little, even though she's just said the least funny and most destructive thing for Regina's sanity she could possibly say.

"No problem," Regina says, her voice faint. "What are friends for?"

Cady smiles at her. Regina smiles back, reflexively.

Well, shit.

[baylardian-1]

Idk why I just had the inclination to draw Phoebe and Gretchen Janeway. :)

I think it’s SUPER CUTE to think about Gretchen after @elephant-in-the-pride-parade‘s fic First Contact like excitedly going to Phoebe to tell her about how she just learned that she’s a grandmother and Phoebe’s an auntie and she only got to see them for like five seconds and she knows Kathryn had triplets out in the Delta Quadrant and she doesn’t know who’s the father or what their names are for that matter but one of them has poofy curly hair like Phoebe’s and also I think Gretchen would horrendously fail trying to describe how both Kathryn and her children look to Phoebe haha. 

And then Phoebe admiring Kathryn’s tail hehe. :3 I think she’d be a little bedazzled by her sister’s evolved complexion and spots and all that as an artist, maybe cutely point out her spots look like constellations or something.

AND UH I keep having Prodigy thoughties regarding Kathryn’s lil internal struggle with herself regarding her feelings for Chakotay and how Phoebe and Gretchen would probably be there to comfort her while she’s sulking, but she may not ever really open up to them about it prior to her leaving to go search for him or something idk! But they know she’s sad about him leaving to go back to the DQ so they’re just wanting to be there for her. Though Kathryn would probably put on a stoic face about it and continue on as usual like nothing’s wrong. But I think they’re both pretty aware of Kathryn’s feelings toward Chakotay, whether she admits it to them or not. And so her decision to go out into the Delta Quadrant to go find Chakotay and bring him home is met with BIG SUPPORT from them it’s like omg it’s finally happening she’s DOING SOMETHING she’s TAKING INITIATIVE and all that so of course they’re both like YES we’ll take care of the kids while you’re gone getting their papa back and all that. 

[adleryoung]

"We have two days!" I declared. "Time to get ready!"

With a few slight modifications, Burnside's assassin cloak could be made to look like Didelphis's cronely vestments. The forest donated a shillelagh and Burnside began working on her Didelphis imitation, with coaching from Rebecca and Chloe.

"Dagnab that durn Oonagh," Burnside wheezed. "Why in tarnation her pies gotta be so dang tasty? Tain't fair!"

"You've got her gestures down pat!" Rebecca squealed gleefully.

"She wouldn't say 'dagnab' though," Chloe interjected. "Nor 'tarnation' nor any of those other swamp expressions."

"DogGONE," Burnside protested. "This is gonna be harder'n I thought."

"It doesn't have to be perfect," I pointed out. "You just have to get close, and the glamer will take care of the rest. Speaking of which, Rebecca, you need to change to a townsfemme disguise."

"But," she protested.

"No buts! A glamer can cover a lot of things, but you can't waltz into town dressed like a sexy witch and not expect to draw attention!"

"You think I'm sexy?" she asked coyly.

"Don't change the subject!" I barked. "Time to get into costume!"

With helpful suggestions from Gretchen and Petunia, I magicked up some new clothes for Rebecca.

"Uuuuughhh," she groaned. "This is so dull, so drab, so … BLAH! I'm dressed like my mom! I feel so frumpy!"

"Good," I declared. "That's exactly what we want. You must blend in with the crowd so you can discreetly use Elfmind to send Burnside answers if she gets quizzed about things Didelphis should know."

I paused for a moment and pondered: Was this a good plan? Did it make sense? Did it have any glaringly obvious flaws that would bring everything crashing down around me?

Again??

"I feel confident in this plan," Rebecca reassured me. "This is the best way to achieve the best possible outcome from the current situation."

"Were you spying on my thoughts just now?" I asked her.

"You wanted me to practice my Elfmind," she grinned.

"Very impressive," I nodded approvingly, though I was a little disturbed by how easily she had done it, without showing any visible signs of concentration.

"Hey Adl - uh, Yer Lordship," Burnside called as she approached me. "Hey … I can tell that you don't care for Ash one lil bit. If you want, I can bring his sneaky an' sly lil head back on a silversteel platter."

"Do you seriously think you could take him?" I blurted.

"He ain't all that," Burnside scoffed.

"I want to make something very clear," I explained. "This is NOT to be a violent mission. It is your chance to prove that you are more than a mere weapon of mass destruction. You may only resort to violence in the worst case scenario, but you must do everything in your power to make sure it doesn't come to that. You are to impersonate Didelphis with the intention of making sure everyone gets out of this alive, and in Oonagh's case, with her reputation intact."

Burnside looked at me for a long moment, then said, "I promise to make sure this here mission turns out just the way you want it."

"Good," I nodded. "One last thing: If Ash tries to betray me again, like he did when he warded the forest and blinded me to the world, then you will have my permission to kill him. But not until Rebecca, Oonagh, and Didelphis are safe."

"Gotcha," she nodded, then hobbled back over to work on her act in front of the coven members.

I ordered some Ixies to go to Didelphis's hut and extract anything that could be used as evidence against the narrative we were attempting to construct.

And with that, everything was ready.

…

At this point in the story, I need to pause and have a drink. Next, would you like for me to narrate what happened at the trial, or just skip straight to the aftermath?

[dragynkeep]

dads in rwby on a list from best to ultra shit

+ taiyang. tried his best in every aspect despite losing both his wives in his early 20s while holding down a full time job. has two daughters who adore him & a doggy. what more do you want.

+ ozma. literally died for his children to save them from their unhinged mother. sexy asf dilf. looks at his babies like they’re his entire world.

+ li. another mega dilf. gave his son some sound advice before fighting the demon horse from hell to give him time to escape. king shit.

0 pietro. listen, i get it. he’s now super dad in current rwby time but that doesn’t erase the fact he essentially made his daughter as a weapon & made it so she could feel pain?? wtf is up with that bro. the moment in amity arena was cute though, i hope he’s okay now :(((

- ghira. not the worst of the worst dads but uh. you suck. who takes their child to dangerous protests & doesn’t try & bring them back when they run away to a cult. stupid furry bitch.

- hazel. not a true dad but fndm decided to think anyways so uh, you suck also. gretchen deserved her agency & not to have her death appropriated for your toxic masculinity rage fest & emerald isn’t your replacement goldfish.

- jacques. everyone hates you & for good reason. die, lorax man.

- marcus. i appreciate the people who draw you as a dilf but who disables their child & you got KARMA bitch. i wish mercury could kill you again. ♥

idk that’s all the dads i could remember so if i forgot anyone they suck too.

[kindrednerdspirit]

Sometimes a Thing Feels so Right: Part 4

Excerpt: This revelation, however, is not without its issues, because Casey now finds herself in the tricky situation of knowing it’s best to avoid private moments with Iz, but she also wants private moments with her.

Monday, first block. Casey’s perspective.

It’s 20 minutes before track practice starts and Casey has one goal: avoid any potential private moments with Izzie. Her decision is influenced by her most recent talk with Elsa. In a bizarre turn of events, the universe decided Casey would connect with Elsa on a deeper level twice in one week. Their first talk about Casey’s grandma helped her understand Elsa’s helicopter parenting and why she gets, well, annoyingly intrusive. Their second talk was an accident. A host of Izzie feelings reached a boiling point for Casey and her Izzie issues spilled out in front of Elsa.

For context, this is how it all went down:

The smell of roast fills the Gardner house. Sam works at the kitchen table as Elsa takes dinner out of the oven. He is sketching a new piece for his art class. 

“Sam, honey, do you mind telling your sister that dinner is ready?” Elsa asks as she cuts the roast.

“I do mind. I have to finish this sketch by tomorrow.”

Elsa is not surprised by her son’s very literal answer. He had been in flow for hours, sitting in the same spot since he got home from class. This is not a battle she wants to take part in, so she walks up the stairs to get Casey. Strangely, the door is ajar by a few inches. Curious in a way that any parent is interested in their teenager’s “secret” life, Elsa peers in before announcing dinner is ready. Casey is lying on her bed, curled toward the wall and sniffling.

She acts like she hasn’t been spying, and quietly knocks. “Case, dinner is ready.”

“Uh, sure. I’ll be right down.” Casey’s voice is soft.

Don’t meddle, don’t meddle, don’t meddle. Elsa repeats the phrase over and over in her head as she walks back into the kitchen and takes dinner into the dining room. A few minutes pass before Casey makes her way downstairs.

She sees Sam drawing at the kitchen table. “Why aren’t you eating?”

“I need to finish my sketch. It’s due tomorrow.”

“So, take a 10 minute break, eat, then finish it.”

Sam avoids eye contact and looks at the table the entire time he speaks. “Professor Shinerock says you have to find your peak time to achieve flow. My peak time is in the afternoon around 2:30, so this is when I have to start working on my art, because it’s when I’ll be at my most creative and productive. Professor Shinerock says to continue working in flow state for as long as possible.” 

“You know what else helps creativity and productivity? Not starving.”

“Of course, starving ruins creativity and productivity, because you’d be dead!” Sam tilts his head and furrows his brow. “That’s a ridiculous thing to say.” Without another word, Sam puts on his headphones and returns to his sketch.

“If you’re not eating by the time I’m done dinner, I’m pretending you’re an egg.” Casey walks away with a smile, knowing that Sam did not hear her warning. She sits at the table with Elsa and starts helping herself to potatoes. The two sit in silence for a minute, save for cutlery clanging against their plates.

“Sweets, I know I shouldn’t meddle--”

“So don’t.” Casey finishes.

“--but I’m just going to say one thing, then nothing else. Promise.”

Casey rolls her eyes but let’s her mum continue. Elsa takes a deep breath to collect herself. “You just found out that UCLA is interested in you, but you seem sad. And you haven’t had Izzie over in weeks, you mope around the house, you’re unexpectedly crotchety...”

“Mum!” Casey groans. “Please, get to the point.”

“I don’t know if Izzie is jealous about UCLA scouting you, but whatever is happening between you two... it will sort itself out. Try not to fret too much.”

Casey stares at her plate and pauses to mull over her mum’s words. “How do you know?” She’s afraid to look at Elsa. Afraid that if she does, all her emotions will flood out.

“Because of how you two look at each other. It’s special.” Elsa smiles, reflecting on when she first met Doug. When they first met, they shared the same long stares and goofy smiles as Casey and Izzie. Boy, that seemed like a lifetime ago.

“Thanks.” Casey is surprised by her mum’s kind words. “I don’t know if it will, though.” Her voice cracks. She shuts her eyes, because she can feel the tears forming. Elsa practically leaps out of her seat to embrace her daughter. She kisses Casey’s head, then soothingly brushes back her hair with her fingers.

“She’s… embarrassed to be seen with me.” Casey murmurs.

Elsa nods, knowingly. “I’m sorry, love.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her daughter’s ear. “Not everyone is as confident and comfortable with themselves as you.”

Casey smiles sheepishly and swipes away the tears. Of course, Elsa feels protective of Casey. She doesn’t want anybody breaking her daughter’s heart. At the same time, Elsa also understands Izzie’s situation to a certain extent, making her feel like a protective momma bear toward her, too. They have the shared experience of growing up with an absent parent, and perhaps, similar insecurities. Not to mention that both Casey and Izzie are just beginning to understand their sexual identities, so it's not surprising that this self knowledge is leading to difficult feelings.

Elsa is suddenly very grateful for reading up on parenting tips for LGBTQ+ kids. She chooses her next words carefully, so as not to imply to Casey that she knows about Izzie’s home situation. “Give her time, hon.” 

“I think I love her.” Casey sniffles.

“I know.” 

“Love who?” Doug walks into the room looking for dinner. He just got back from work, and somehow slipped into the house without the girls noticing. The question hangs in the air a few beats too long.

“Uhm, Izzie.” Despite not wanting this conversation to happen in this moment, Casey looks her dad in the eye.

“Yeah, I love her too!” He grins and pulls out a chair, completely oblivious to what is going on. Casey is not sure what to do, so she looks at her mum. The two watch as Doug happily sticks a fork into the roast beef, then proceeds to scoop carrots. The girls stifle some laughter. Maybe it’s best to let this one slide, considering Casey and Izzie’s relationship status is currently unknown.

“What?” Doug asks after noticing the girls’ looks.

“Nothing, Dad. Girl stuff.” Casey looks at her mum as she says it, knowing it will mean something more to her. She then grabs her plate and excuses herself from the table before dropping her dishes in the sink. Sam is still in the kitchen, completely absorbed in his art.

“I warned you!” Casey shouts. “Prepare to be egged!” With that, she scrambles onto Sam’s chair and sticks her butt on his head.

“Hey, stop! What are you doing?!” Sam protests.

“Don’t blame me. You’re the one who compared me to a penguin, so now, you’re my egg.”

“Why would that make me an egg? That makes no sense! You ruined my flow!” They continue squabbling, wrestling, and yelling.

Meanwhile, Doug looks at Elsa with a bemused but impressed expression. “Girl talk? Really?”

Elsa cannot help but beam.

***

Needless to say, when Casey found herself stretching on the field 20 minutes early, it was a calculated move. It’s amazing how saying something out loud can make things so clear. Once she told Elsa that Izzie was embarrassed to be seen with her as her girlfriend, something clicked. Casey could never pretend to be just friends with Izzie, it would never work out. She simply wasn’t the type of person to pretend, the type to play a role, even if it meant keeping Izzie close. 

This revelation, however, is not without its issues, because Casey now finds herself in the tricky situation of knowing it’s best to avoid private moments with Iz, but she also wants private moments with her. 

While she works on her quads, Izzie jogs past and veers off to stretch on her own. She’s wearing the tight Adidas shorts that show off her beautiful curves. Casey always considered her own muscular legs to be tall and lanky, but Izzie’s… they were shapely in all the most appealing ways from her legs to her hips. The same hips she held onto whenever she pulled Izzie close. She fit so comfortably in her embrace, with her delightful warmth and faint smell of vanilla beans.

The best part was when Iz was really close and her chin would dip up. Casey would look down and see the same desire in her eyes as she felt all over her body. A shiver would go down her spine, her breathing would quicken. And everything else would just, sort of, disappear. Fade off into the background. Iz would smile, showing off her button dimples and Casey would want to devour her right then and there for being too adorable.

Oh. My. God. Casey! You have one job. Actually, two jobs. No private moments with Izzie and no getting turned on by Izzie because it’s a slippery slope, my dude. Quick, think of gross things. Zahid kissing Gretchen? Zahid in a robe? Ew, ew, ew! Too far. Poor Zahid. I love the guy for being Sam’s friend, but he’s a serious vagina mood killer.

Izzie looks up from her stretching and their eyes meet. She has the longing eyes and Casey knows exactly what she wants. Shit. It’s too hard, so she looks away. Much too hard. The rest of track practice follows a similar pattern of eyes meeting and diverting. 

***

After 60 minutes of failing miserably at ignoring Izzie, Casey is relieved when Coach blows the whistle. She hustles to the locker room with a few other teammates. Casey is talking to another teammate when Iz jogs over, her high ponytail bouncing with each step. She cannot help but disassociate from the conversation, because she sees the infamous Adidas shorts. And just like that, she’s done for. Blood rushes toward her southern regions. The Zahid tactic fails. Once again, Casey curses her body and heart for betraying her brain. 

“Yo, Newton! Wait up!” Iz shouts.

At the sound of her voice, Casey wavers for a millisecond. She decides to continue listening to her peers, pretending not to hear. But Iz is persistent. Casey’s words from the other night with Elsa race through her head.

She’s embarrassed to be seen with me.

The words are upsetting. There’s so many reasons why, it’s hard to pick only one, but she mostly feels frustrated. Frustrated that she cannot hold or kiss Izzie in public, that she cannot share her love with the world, despite their mutual feelings. Worst of all, she feels the immense hurt that comes with knowing she cannot pretend to be just friends. She hates that it has to be all or nothing. But to do otherwise, would be to betray herself. All these complicated emotions build up inside her until she finds herself towering over Izzie.

“I don’t know how to make this more clear. I don’t want to talk to you.”

Her cold tone surprises even her. She watches Izzie’s eyes widen, then feels her heart clench in response. Despite everything, her instant reaction is to make Iz feel better. And she easily could. Casey could slip her arms around her, up to the small of her back. Then, she could gently pull Izzie toward her and lean in. She could hover in front of her lips to tease Iz, the two sharing the same, delicious air.

“I--”

“Please, don’t follow me.” Casey cuts off Iz with a firm response. She gulps--that was close. Her feet hurry toward the locker room, whisking her away as quickly as possible. She hated feeling like an overdramatic school girl or like she was in some terrible rom-com. Big deal. Just be friends, right? At the same time, though, she knew there was no other way.

[sincerelyreidburke]

As your local fanfic prophet, I offer you words of wisdom: The kiersey theatre boys going the jingle bell rock dance from mean girls. You're welcome

............ God, sometimes I wish I could draw.

Anyway. Percy has sent in a fantastic prompt for me to kick off the 25 Days of Kiersey with. Here’s the deal: I’m going to create a new AO3 work, which will ultimately be 25 chapters, one for each day where I do a holiday Kiersey post/ficlet/whatever. I’ll link you guys to that later today, but for now....... come with me on this journey.

Interestingly, Percy, I’ve actually thought about this before. And you’ll have to forgive me, because I’m cheating slightly and it’s only the first day— what I’m about to describe to you doesn’t actually take place during the holiday season. But nonetheless, it is very much related to the holidays.

Come with me on this journey. (Long post under the cut!)

It’s Reid’s idea. Pretty much every terrible/wonderful thing that happens in the Kiersey Drama Club is Reid’s idea. Reid has actually been trying to get three other guys enlisted under his command to do this for the past several years, but he’s never been able to push his plans through........ until one Quinn Cooper comes along.

So allow me to set the scene for you. Remember that variety show the drama club puts on every spring? Yeah, that one. Going into the spring semester of his senior year, Reid really wants to do something big and fun and obnoxious. He has tried, in vain, to get his three roommates to do this damn Mean Girls dance routine with him, but a.) he’s the only one of them who actually does acting, and b.) Jhiron Hassan would not be caught dead doing a sexy Santa dance, and also c.) you can’t teach the unique lack of shame possessed by one Reid Burke.

So the short and the long of it is that Reid has never actually gotten the chance to live out one of his biggest meme performance fantasies. You should know that, as a general rule, Reid loves Mean Girls. Honestly, he has good taste.

By the way, if you don’t know what I’m referring to by “sexy Santa dance” and “that damn dance routine,” please educate yourself at the following link.

Anyway, going on. I would have this take place at Christmas, but Reid never gets people to organize to his cause at the holidays. He’s always looking for three guys, and he can never get three. I also, for Kiersey-verse plot reasons, can’t have them do this in the winter of Reid’s senior year, because he doesn’t know Quinn well enough for it yet, and you’d be sorely mistaken if you thought I would leave Quinn out of this activity.

Going on for real this time.

In his senior spring musical, Reid observes a unique opportunity: he exists in a cast with exactly three other young, strapping men. (“Mel, isn’t it technically four? What about Spencer?” Spencer can choke.)

At some point as the spring musical season is coming to a close, and sign-ups for the variety show (which takes place during the last month or so of school) are rapidly approaching, Reid corners his castmates with a proposition.

[Dear Evan Hansen dress rehearsal. Backstage, while Ezra is messing with light cues.]

Reid: Gentlemen. Esteemed colleagues. Gather around.

Danny: Reid.

Reid: I have a mission to charge you with.

Danny: I am ready to accept it.

Quinn, who still has slight Freshman Syndrome, trying to fit in with the cool upperclassmen: Me, too!

Reid: Sign-ups for the variety show are approaching.

Cole, slightly concerned: Oh, no.

Reid: Oh, yes, Cole. Fun fact: you have to listen to me, because I’m about to graduate, and every moment you spend with me is precious.

Cole, picking his nail polish: That’s generous, but, uh, go on.

Reid: (Tries to smack Cole’s arm.)

Cole, in a monotone: Ow.

Quinn: Wait, Reid, what’s your idea?

Reid: I think you’re all gonna love it. :D

Quinn:

Danny:

Reid: :D

Cole: Uh....

Cole: Do you plan on, like, telling us—

Reid: Okay, okay! Fuck. I almost lost my train of thought. Anyway. Are you all familiar with the movie Mean Girls?

Quinn: What kind of person isn’t familiar with that movie?

Danny: It’s a premium film.

Reid: I’m impressed, Danny. As resident straight boy, I thought you’d need the most education.

Danny: What, so being straight means you can’t enjoy quality cinema?

Cole, lying through his teeth: I’m straight and I like that movie.

Cole: But what does that have to do with—

(Cole begins to realize where this is going.)

Cole: Oh.

Reid: Well, there’s a scene in it—

Cole: Oh, no.

Reid: — at the Christmas pageant or whatever, where—

(Quinn and Danny also catch on.)

Quinn: Oh, my goodness.

Danny: (Starts laughing.)

Cole: I’m not doing that.

Reid: Fuck off, Coley! How can you stare me in the face and decline participating in my one senior year wish?

Cole: Just for the record? I think you’ve told me, like, at least six separate times that something is your ‘one senior year wish.’ It’s different every time. Remember at the apple festival—

Reid: But listen—

Cole: And at Bluegrass open mic—

Reid: Hold on, though—

Cole: And that one time in your apartment—

Reid: Cole! You’re breaking my heart. Why won’t you do the sexy Santa dance with me?!

Danny: I’ll do it.

Reid: Daniel Cho, have I mentioned lately that you’re a superior man and I love you?

Quinn: I’ll do it, too!

Quinn: (to Reid) As long as you’re Regina.

Reid: Obviously, I’m Regina. You think I haven’t planned this out? You’re Cady, frosh, because you’re ginger and you’re new.

Quinn: I’m honored.😌😌😌

Reid: I’ll be fun! I’ll get us a boombox, and we can find weird slutty male costumes, and my roommate Eli can be Tina Fey and start playing the piano—

Danny, about to fall off his chair laughing: Oh my God, yes.

Quinn: I feel like Maggie may be jealous that this is happening without her.

Reid: Tell Maggie that I’m sorry, but this is reserved for the men in the drama club with the most sex appeal.

Cole: (Gagging noise.)

Quinn: Oh! And I can make us costumes!

Reid, putting a hand to his heart: You’d do that? For me? I knew you were my favorite freshman.

Danny: Okay, is it weird that I’m kind of excited?

Reid: No, it means you have good taste.

Quinn: I’m excited as well.

(Everybody turns and looks at Cole.)

Cole: 

Reid:

Quinn:

Danny:

Cole: I am Jewish.

Reid: Yeah, exactly, so you can be Gretchen, dumbass!

Cole: I hate you, Reid.

Reid, high-fiving Danny: We got him, boys!

And so it begins........ Reid gets to live out his fantasy of having absolutely no shame, Quinn gets to design his own sexy Santa costume, Danny does it for the meme, and Cole......... does it for Reid and only for Reid. It’s important that you all know that Cole wears suspenders and an open Santa jacket, because apparently that’s a thing. Quinn’s costume in some way involves short shorts. Reid would straight-up wear the dress. As we’ve recently discussed, Reid would wear a dress.

People who are not prepared to witness this but have to lay their eyes upon it anyway, an unfinished list: Bri, Jhiron, Claire, Nando........

Actually, that raises a good point. How does Nando handle this without combusting? He probably doesn’t. It’s Cell Block Tango 2.0 even though this takes place before the Cell Block Tango incident.

Quinn sewing a pair of red velvet booty shorts:

Nando: Uh......,,,, baby? Who are those for?

Quinn: Oh, they’re for me!😊😊😊

Nando: 😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳

Quinn: I’m making costumes for the drama club variety show. It’s in two weeks. Are you coming?

Nando, sweating: Well, like, uh, 😳😳😳😳, obviously I’m coming if that’s what you’re wearing—

To the best of their ability, they copy the choreography from the movie, and they practice in one of the dance studios in the performing arts center. Imagine being a dance major, minding your own business and going to practice after hours, and you unlock the studio and that ginger freshman who starred in the spring musical is yelling choreography at three uncoordinated upperclassmen. And also Christmas music is playing. And one of them is wearing a Santa hat.

Reid pulls some drama club strings and gets them to be the last thing on the program. He swears them all to secrecy, so a limited number of people know what they’re actually performing. He wants the crowd at the variety show to be surprised.

Aaaand that’s the story of how Reid brought the house down at the final Kiersey Drama variety show of his college career. And had Christmas in April.

You may ask yourself, why? I raise you: why not?

[marvinswriting]

Jason

hey, you guys remember jason from the movie? the one gretchen hooked up with but he didn't actually care about her? yeah :) ALSO REGINA POV?!?!? tw: bullying, suffocation, manipulation, shane omen mention g/t mean girls

I wasn't controlling.

Well- let me rephrase that.

There were rules for being plastic. I made sure Karen and Gretchen followed those rules. That wasn't controlling. Just, guidelines. They're rules in place to help the other plastics. Dress codes, what clubs you can and can't join, you can't buy a dress without the others approval, don't date your friend's exes-

but totally new boys were fair game. 

So before you ask, no, that's not why I'm against Gretchen dating Jason. 

On surface level, Jason seemed like a nice guy.

But he constantly blew off Gretchen, he flirted with other girls, and overall was totally using her.

And that's not even getting into how he treats tinies.

That's right.

Jason is a two-faced fucking asshole.

And none of the giants can see it.

I mean- I'm sure they're suspicious. I know Damian notices when Janis stiffens the second Jason walks in the room. And, Cady has probably picked up on the way Aaron gets quiet. If Gretchen has caught on to anything, she totally ignores it. I mean- Janis, Aaron, and I tried telling our friends in the begging. Gretchen didn't want to hear it. She's got a huge crush on the guy and totally ignores all red flags. 

So we gave up getting through to her. 

Besides, who would believe us? Jason was so sweet whenever our giants were around.

I guess when we collectively decided we couldn't get through to Gretchen- all the other giants were a lost cause too. And that was months ago. We're in too deep now.

"Allow me to take it back to the drawing board and suggest the best idea we've had since day one," Janis huffed. We were in an empty hallway after school for 'english help'. We've been staying after a lot more recently. 

It's been getting worse.

Jason isn't trying to be sneaky anymore. He'll pick up Aaron without asking, conveniently drop his textbook on the cafeteria table right next to Janis, wrap his arm around Gretchen when I'm on her shoulder. 

Yet nobody has caught on.

Janis continued. "Why don't we just tell our giants what he's doing?"

"Because Gretchen won't listen to me."

"Good thing there's three other friends." Janis points out.

I rolled my eyes, waving my hand dismissively. Of course, Janis didn't understand how it felt not to have her giant listen to her. Her and Damian practically share a mind, if anything it's a shock he hasn't started asking questions. "Fine, if you know what's best for everyone, go talk to Damian. I'm sure you two will solve everything with your buddy buddy perfect communication skills. Janis has a giant who actually listens to her! Wow! You don't have to rub it in." I cross my arms over my chest, leaning back against the wall.

Aaron blinks, his gaze bouncing between both of us nervously.

"I wasn't-" Janis pauses, letting her hands fold in her lap. "I wasn't rubbing anything in. Listen- Regina, I'm sorry Gretchen won't listen. Truly. I'm being genuine right now. But don't make me feel guilty for trying to come up with a solution to something affecting all three of us."

"Right," I mumble, guilt rising in my stomach. "Sorry. I just-"

My voice trails off but neither Janis nor Aaron push for me to continue talking. Gretchen was somebody I could always trust to be there and listen to me. Now she didn’t. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to make her listen. We're silent for a while while I regroup my emotions, not wanting to snap for no reason again. 

"I have tried talking to Gretchen recently."

"And how did it go?" Aaron prompted.

"Well, it fucking went." I shrug. "Gretchen isn't used to having boys like her. I love her but crushes directed to her don't happen often. So of course she accused me of being jealous a boy finally liked her and not me."

"Maybe it had to do with how you worded it?" Janis suggests.

"Well, how else do I word 'hey maybe you should break up with the boy you're not even officially dating yet because he's toxic, a cheater, not actually in love with you, also harassing your tiny friends'?"

"Literally any way but that." Janis mumbled.

I shrug again, pulling out my phone. "Well, I did my best. You know emotions aren't my thing." I want to cry a little just thinking about the talk last week. But I don't. Crying won't fix anything. 

"Regina, why can't you be happy that a boy likes me for once?! I know you're used to all the boys falling head over heels for you, but this is the first time a cute boy has put in the effort to care and call back and-"

"But he doesn't, Gretchen! He doesn't call back. He. Doesn't. Care! I'm doing this for you because nobody else is gonna tell you. Jason is bad news. He doesn't care about you, or Karen, or Cady, or Damian, and he really doesn't give a shit about Janis, Aaron, or I!"

"Just let me be happy, Regina." Gretchen says dismissively, ignoring everything I just said.

There's a hand on my shoulder, jolting me out of my thoughts. Aaron looks at me worriedly but retreats his arm. "Gina, you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just-" I wipe away a strand of hair that's been matted to my face by tears. Wait-

-tears?

I use my sleeve to dry my face quickly. I didn't even realize I started crying. I was just so tired. I was supposed to feel safe around my friends. Even when the rest of the school sees me as an emotionless bitch I should be able to turn to my friends and be okay. I couldn't do what when my current number one source of fear has intruded into our group.

"So," Janis says awkwardly. "We don't tell our giants directly. How do we get them to see the side of Jason we're seeing?"

"We catch him in the act." Aaron suggests.

Janis shakes her head with a sigh. "I am tired and quite frankly sick. I don't want our plan 'a' to be; lets put ourselves in danger in hopes that our friends stop by to witness. Let's make that plan 'y' or 'z'."

"Well, we already have plans 'b' through 'z'. We need and 'a', I'm just spouting ideas." Aaron points out.

Janis sighs, shaking her head. "I should have stuck with Damian. I need a nap and maybe an Advil."

I chuckled dryly at the girl sitting across from me. "Always have your priorities sorted, huh Janis?"

"If my priorities include being sick and not wanting to deal with Jason ever again then yeah."

"It's getting harder and harder 'not to deal with Jason ever again'," Aaron pointed out. "Remember lunch last week?"

"Don't remind me." Janis huffed. 

Last week Jason decided to be a lot more careless with how he treated us around our giant friends. 

I cringe just thinking of the memory.

"All I'm saying is the tiny soccer team is so underfunded. We're even better than the giant soccer team but you wouldn't know it because we've set up to fail."

I raise my eyebrow as Aaron sits next to me, passionately explaining how he swears the tiny soccer team is not a total failure. 

I sat in front of Gretchen and across from Janis, who was flopped against Damian's forearm clearly struggling to stay awake.

I grin as she yawns. 

"Am I boring you, Janis?" Aaron teases.

"A little," Janis says with full honesty.

Before Aaron can remark, a stack of textbooks is dropped in between him and I, narrowly missing me as I push myself backward.

Jason.

Janis's eyes widen and I instantly rush around the textbook to make sure Aaron is okay. He is, just looks equally as shaken up as I do.

Jason sits in the seat between Damian and Gretchen without bothering to great the tinies he just nearly crushed. It's where Cady normally sits, but she isn't here today.

"Jason!" Gretchen grins, pecking him on the cheek like I didn't just almost die.

I throw and exasperated look to Janis who laughs at my expense. 

She wasn't the one almost fucking crushed.

Janis pushes off Damian's arm, making her way over to Aaron and I.

Or tries to.

She doesn't make it very far before shes intercepted by a hand scooping her up.

Janis makes a noise of surprise as Jason lifts her off the table without asking.

I push myself closer to Gretchen as Janis instantly tries to get back down to the table. Jason's thumb knocks her down and I cringe because- that looked like it hurt.

Damian eyes Jason wearily but doesn't vocally say anything. But neither does Janis so why would anyone worry? It's just Jason. Sweet Jason. The boy who's probably gonna ask Gretchen to spring fling. Innocent Jason.

Janis sits up again, clearly uncomfortable, as Damian speaks. "Maybe I should hold Janis?"

"No," Jason says simply before Janis can even open her mouth. "She's fine."

"Janis," Damian ignores the boy next to him. "Do you want Jason holding you?"

Janis is silent for a while, and I don't blame her.

She's in Jason's hands.

One wrong more and shes getting hurt-

badly.

"I- I uh, kinda want to be with Damian right now? If that's okay?" Janis speaks slowly, picking her words wisely.

"That's okay!" Jason reassures her sweetly, passing the girl to her giant. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." Aaron and Janis make an identical face of discussed at the sickly sweet tone and I can only assume my face is similar.

"It's okay." Janis says softly, visibly more relaxed in Damain's hands.

Jason forces a frown. "Well- I'll go give you space. Gretchen, I'll see you next period."

He gets up, walking away but I don't feel very bad for him. If anything, I feel safer. And if the collective breath of relief from Janis and Aaron was an indicator- they felt the same.

As soon as Jason was out of earshot, Gretchen turned to Janis. "Jason was just trying to be nice, Janis. You need to be willing to welcome him into our friend group."

Janis' jaw slacked. The 'are you kidding me' went unsaid. Instead, Janis forced out an "Of course, it's my fault." 

"I'm serious, Janis. Be nice." 

"I'm serious too." Janis shot back.

Aaron and I shared a look of helplessness. We couldn't just tell them. Our giants would never believe us.

To them, Jason could do no wrong.

"The only solution is to never go to lunch again." Janis speaks up, bringing me out of my thoughts.

"Mhmm, sure. That's a reasonable solution." Aaron teases.

"You got something better, soccer boy?" Janis raises her eyebrow.

Aaron shakes his head. "We've reached a dead end. Gina? You got any ideas?"

I shake my head with defeat. "Unfortunately, no. All I know is Jason hates us and his goal is to make our friends hate us too through lying and manipulation."

"Go girl, give us nothing." Janis rolls her eyes. "We already knew that Regina."

"Okay, I get your sick and cranky, Janis, but I don't need you-"

"Okay!" Aaron interrupts me. "The three of us are stressed! We're worried. We're scared. But we're also all on the same page. Let's not go at each other's throats right now. We're the only ones who understand each other's struggles. Please stop fighting."

Janis and I both mumble a weak sorry. 

Aaron was right. We were all scared. Can you blame us? Jason was doing everything in his power to isolate us from our friends. For no other reason other then we're tinies and see-through his act. Why he wants Gretchen so bad is beyond me. But hell am I gonna let his toxic ass have her.

"Do you guys remember that scarf Gretchen wore last week?" I ask.

Janis tilts her head. "Yeah?"

"I don't pay enough attention." Aaron shrugs.

I grin. "Well, it was a baggy infinity scarf to refresh your memory. There was enough fabric that I could sit on Gretchen's shoulder next to her neck and not be seen. So I obviously skipped my boring history lecture. But also- Gretchen talked to Jason. He didn't know I was there."

"You're like a spy!" Janis grinned, invested in the story. "What happened?!"

"Hey, Gretchen!" Jason smiles, slipping his hand into Gretchen's as they walked down the hall.

I sunk lower into the pool of fabric, hopping Grethen didn't point out I was here.

"Hey, Jason!"

I let out a breath of relief when she doesn't.

"I have to ask you something," Jason asked.

My ears perk up as I wait for him to continue.

"Is that Janis girl always so- unfriendly? I get the feeling she doesn't like me. I just don't know why. Like Regina clearly doesn't like me very much but she might just be jealous you've got a boy and she doesn't-"

So that's where the seed of jealously in Gretchen's head was planted from. It takes all of me not the stand-up and call Jason out on his bullshit.

He continues.

"But I don't understand why Janis or Aaron wouldn't like me. Aaron just gets quiet and hey- maybe he's shy. But Janis lashes out every time I try and talk to her."

"Janis can be like that sometimes." Gretchen says, nodding in agreement.

Jason could tell her the earth is fucking flat and this bitch would nod in agreement.

I wouldn't be surprised if Gretchen is even really listening to what Jason is saying.

All she's thinking is 'hot boy's lips are moving'.

Ugh.

"At least he's caught onto the fact that I don't fucking like him." Janis crossed her arms.

"Janis, he's painting you to be the bad guy. He's trying to turn Gretchen against you, what don't you understand about that?" Aaron asked.

"Oh no, I understood. I just don't care. I hate Jason and I'm glad he's caught on."

"He hates you more." I point out.

"Impossible." Janis shook her head.

We go back and forth about who hates who more before settling on the fact that our collective hate for him outweighs anything he feels for us.

"Let's go meet our giants, it's getting late." Aaron said standing up. He holds out his hand, helping Janis up first, then me. 

Janis groans holding her head. "Still feel sick as fuck and standing up so fast did not help."

"Woe is you." I roll my eyes. "Let's go."

We walk through the school, making our way to the tiny pick up zone. We're halfway there as Aarons phone dings.

Its a text from Cady.

Aaron reads allowed: "Gretchen went home early so Karen is driving Regina home. Damian and Karen are still in after school help and I might be a bit late to pick you three up. Wait there for me, I swear I didn't forget about you guys."

I laugh. "Cady could never forget about us."

"I mean-" Janis starts. "There was the one ti-"

"Shut up." I cut her off. "Cady would never forget about her tiny friends."

We make it to the tiny pick up zone and sit against a wall to wait. It's no surprise that the hallway is empty. It's late after school on a Monday. Who would willingly still be in school?

There's footsteps down the hall and we all look up, expecting Cady.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Janis groans.

"Ever the pleasant one, Sarkisian." Jason jeers. 

"I'm tired, and sick, and will literally cry if you even touch me. I will bawl. And maybe bite. Don't come the fuck near me." Janis threatens, holding up a sharpened pencil like its a knife.

Jason doesn't seem intimidated by this action. "Whatcha gonna do? Nibble my finger?"

"Fuck off!" Janis whines, throwing her head back. "Literally any day but today."

"Listen whiney and friends. I just hear to pick you up for your friends. So stop being such a bitch Janis."

The friends that told us to 'wait here for Cady'?

Riiight.

I share a knowing look with Aaron while Janis gets up, making her way back into the tiny halls.

"Not fucking dealing with this. Good day asshole."

"Nope." Jason reaches forward, picking Janis off the platform. "You're coming with me bitch."

"This is kidnapping," Janis says flatly. She doesn't fight Jason or thrash. She looks tired, like death is appealing at this point. "I'm being abducted."

Jason's fingers tighten around her. "Thought you were the fisty one? Huh? Shane said you put up a pretty good fight. Where's the fight, Sarkisian?"

"You talked to Shane?" I gawk. I don't know why I'm surprised. They definitely seem like best friends.

"Can you put me the fuck down?" Janis huffs. "Kinda hard to breath."

"Oh, is it?" Jason said with feigned worry. "Shame."

Janis cried out as the hand around her tightened, and Jason grinned at the first real signs of fear Janis has shown yet.

"Put me down- asshole!" Janis wheezed. 

"Let go of her!" Aaron yelled.

It was moments like these when you really realize how helpless you were as a tiny. 

All I could do was sit and watch as Aaron yelled and Janis squirmed. All I could do was pray Cady or really anybody would walk past and see what's happening. 

Yeah, we've been threatened with death before.

Every tiny in Northshore has at least once.

And yeah, we've been pushed around before.

But I've never legitimately feared for my life of a friend's life.

I know maybe that's just a perk of being Regina Geroge, but this was new territory. And scary as fuck territory at that.

Jason seems pretty fucking pleased with himself and it makes my stomach twist. It's never gone this far before. 

Somebody is going to get really hurt.

And I can't do anything.

I can almost feel my heart stop as Janis goes limp. I can't see her face. 

But she's not fucking moving.

"Oh whoops." Jason shugs. "You tinies really are weak."

Aaron looks like if he could he'd fucking kill Jason.

Wouldn't we all.

"Put her down!" I yell, snapping out of my helpless funk.

Jason loosens his grip on Janis but she doesn't move. My breath feels caught in my throat. 

My eyes were trained on Janis and I didn't see Jasons another hand till his finger flicked into my side, sending me falling backward.

I felt like I was living through one of those dramatic fight scenes in the movies.

Expect isn't it the villains who are supposed to be defeated?

I'm curled into myself on the floor, Janis is knocked out in the literal hands of the enemy and Aaron looks ready to kill or cry, whichever is possible first.

Never thought I'd die in high school.

"Hey, Jason, is that you?" A voice calls from down the hall.

"Cady!" Aaron runs to the egde of the platform. 

Jasons condescending nature and snarl disappear. "Hello, Heron!"

"Is Janis asleep?" Cady asks as her eyes fall to Jason's hand. "She only ever falls asleep with Damian, either shes exhausted or really trust you."

The bitter laugh is out of my mouth before I can stop it. 

Cady looks at me and tilts her head. "Regina, why do you look like you've been crying on the floor?" She pauses, her eyes trailing back between the four of us. I can almost see the doubt set in her mind. Yes! "What's really going on here?" She asks. "And uh, I'm gonna take Janis-"

Jason shakes his head. "She's fine, it won't be necessary."

"No, I wasn't offering." Cady's voice is an unfamiliar cold. "I'll take Janis."

I stand up and make my way closer to Aaron as Cady takes Janis away from Jason. "Now, what the fuck is going on.

"Literally nothing, we're just talking and-"

"No! He's a fucking asshole and he-"

"Regina, what did I ever do to you?!"

"Are you kidding me?!" 

Cady looks between us nervously. "Uh, Aaron? Wanna tell me what's going on?"

"Gladly."

Cady steps over, picking both Aaron and I up. My mouth is still open from shock. 

What did I ever do to you?!

Fucking bitch, want me to list it?

"So uh," Aaron starts nervously. Cady cups her hands so I'm next to Janis who looks like she's beginning to stir but uh- I've never been suffocated before, maybe she's just sleeping at this point.

But she's breathing. It's reassuring enough for me.

"It started a couple months ago." Aaron continues. "Jason actually isnt very nice? To the tinies at least." He laughs nervously, leaning closer into Cady's hand and away from Jason, who isn't bothering to keep the nice facade up anymore. "He's actually like- Shane Omen but worse?"

"Worse?" Cady's jaw drops slightly in disbelief. 

"I mean- he held Janis so tight that she passed out so I'd fucking say so." I snark. 

Aaron nods. "Yeah, heh- like, I dunno. Just- not nice? He uh, flicked Regina, which is why she was laying down when you walked over. And like its not the first time he's done this? Especially when we're alone."

There's an unreadable look on Cady's face as she looks up to Jason.

It almost scares me.

"I'm gonna walk away. Just-" Cady gives a low laugh. "Jesus, I almost feel sorry for you, Jason. You deserve everything coming to you. Starting with Gretchen and Damian when they find out."

Despite everything, I can't help but smile at the way Jason's face falls with realization.

It's not a big secret that Gretchen loves an excuse to slap someone.

And this is hell of an excuse.

I look at Janis who is still laying next to me, breathing shallowly. 

We might have to bail Damian out of fucking jail.

Cady turns on her heels without saying another word to Jason and walks down the halls. Once he is out of earshot she looks down at us. "How long?!"

Aaron shrugs. "Since Gretchen first met Jason."

"That's like three months guys!" Cady looks genuinely heartbroken. "I can't believe we didn't notice."

Janis stirs next to me, weakly propping herself up. "Huh?"

There are tears in Cady's eyes as she stops walking. "You guy have been enduring this for three months?"

"No," I say. "Well- yes but not really. It was a build-up. He didn't just start attacking us to the point of death one random day. It started with little things. Like pushing us around and knocking us over."

"That shouldn't happen anyway!" Cady says sadly.

"But it did," Janis mumbled. She seems to have caught onto whats going on. "My chest hurts."

"I'm so sorry you guys," Cady whispers sadly. "I- how did we not notice?"

"Not notice what?"

I turn around to see Karen and Damian walking over. For a second my eyes trail behind them in search of Gretchen but- she went home. Of course.

"Cady, are you crying?" Damian asks, instantly worried. "Is everything okay? Where's Janis?"

"Right here, dude." Janis mumbles. She's looking down at her lap, her arms wrapped loosely around herself. She's still wheezing slightly and tears threaten to spill over her eyes. I don't blame her. That was almost death.

Janis almost died.

My breath hitches at the realization.

As a tiny, you almost die a lot. But- it's accidental. It's falling or almost being crushed. Never malicious actions of bigger peers. 

Cady offers her hands out and I step backward, letting Damian gently scoop up Janis. 

 "What happened?" Karen asks, peering over Damian's shoulder at Janis.

I look back to Cady trying to figure out if she's gonna talk or if Aaron and I have to explain. She's staring at Karen with a crestfallen gaze, tear tracks down her face. "Guys-" She starts. 

I know this is hard for her because she's taking it personally and blaming herself, but we really don't need the fanfare. 

Not that I'm gonna step up and tell the story. 

Karen steps towards picking up me and Aaron. Cady doesn't fight it, she just lets her hands fall to her side. "Y'know, Jason?"

"Yeah of course. Smile emoji." Karen says from above me.

I look over to Janis, who has her arm around Damain's finger. She's doing pretty well for passing out. God knows I'd be sobbing if that were me. Hell, the ache in my side is enough to make me want to cry right now.

"Not smiley face emoji, Karen," Cady explains softly. "I don't know the full thing, you're gonna have to ask the tinies but-"

Cady explains what she walked over to see and the minimal information she got out of us earlier. She left out a lot, but she didn't know a lot to be fair. The look of utter horror on our friend's faces almost made me feel bad. We barely scraped the top layer.

Damian is looking down at the girl in his hands who at some point in the bad retelling started crying again. Karen had held Aaron and I even closer and Cady looked ready to sit down and cry. Me too, Cady.  

"Three months?" Damian whispers weakly. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Why would you believe us? Jason's fucking great." Janis said bitterly, still clinging to his finger.

"Of course we would believe you, Jan."

"Gretchen didn't." I say softly.

I didn't really think about what I was saying. I was just mumbling to myself. But Karen heard. 

"You told her?"

I shrug. "Tried to. She didn't listen."

"Well, she's gonna listen when we tell her tomorrow," Cady says. "I can't believe you didn't tell us."

I shrug dismissively, not wanting to talk about it. "It's not a big deal."

I didn't mean it. Of course, it's a big deal. But I said it wasn't anyway. 

"You're telling me Janis almost died today and it's not the first time you guys have been through something like that, but don't worry it's not a big deal?!"

I pause, looking at the three giants. This was Aaron, Janis and I's normal. It's what we went through every day. Yeah, it's shitty but we're used to it. I forget sometimes the giants don't understand the fact not getting shoved around is normal for us. Being threatened and made fun of for our size is just part of an average day.

"Can we continue this with Gretchen at lunch tomorrow? I don't want this conversation twice. I feel even crappier than I already did before and I just want to sleep." Janis speaks up from where Damian held her protectively close. 

"You all better tell us everything tomorrow." Cady says. 

"Cady are you taking Aaron or should I get these two home?" Karen asks.

-

"This was a really funny joke guys." Gretchen says from above me. Despite her words, her voice is void of all amusement.

"Yes, because we're the type to make jokes about our tiny friends almost dying." Damian deadpans. Janis is sitting on the table in front of him looking like she'd rather talk about anything other than this.

I don't blame her.

But this could finally be my chance to get Gretchen to listen and believe me.

"Gretchen." I turn around to look up at her, but I'm on the table I need to crane my neck. "I know this isn't what you want to hear, but you have to believe us. Cady witnessed it with her own eyes if you don't believe me. Janis sure as hell can vouch since she nearly fucking died yesterday."

Gretchen doesn't respond for a long time. I feel like I can see the seed of doubt settle in on the situation. She reaches forward, scooping me up and bringing me to her shoulder. 

"I- I'm not sure what to believe," She admits. "but I'll listen. I'm sorry I didn't do that before."

That one sentence felt like so much weight being lifted. Jason had Gretchen around her finger. His word was law and everyone else could fuck themself.

But not anymore.

I open my mouth to speak but get cut off by a familiar and unwelcoming voice.

"Hello everyone!"

Cady's eyes widen in disbelief. "You aren't actually stupid enough to think about sitting with us today, right Jason?"

"Aw, why not?" He asks, sitting next to Gretchen and slinging his arm over her shoulder.

I gasp as I'm knocked forward, gripping onto Gretchen's shirt underneath me as I try to stay on. 

Gretchen bats Jason's arm away and scoops me up. "Jason we were talking about something private maybe it's better you join us again later."

Jason's eyes narrowed, as he looked across the table. I sunk lower in Gretchen's hand as his eyes landed on me but he moved on without trying anything. I mean- obviously, Gretchen was right here but still. 

Cady's hand was resting wearily by Aaron if Jason tried something and Janis had been transported to Damian's pocket when I wasn't looking. How could Gretchen not pick up on how stressed we all are?

"What's wrong?" Jason asked, turning to Gretchen.

"It's nothing for you to worry about. I just-"

"Did I do something wrong?" Jason's face fell and I almost felt bad for him. Almost. He should pursue an acting career.

Gretchen looked at loss for what to say for a second before speaking up. "Where were you yesterday after school?"

Jason scoffed. "Whatever Cady said was a lie, Gretch."

"I-" Gretchen froze. "I didn't mention Cady."

Jason's eyes widened as he began to backtrack but- it was too late. 

"Jason I need you to leave, please." Gretchen's hand was shaking as she placed me gently on the table. "There are some things I need to rethink."

"You really believe those tinies?" Jason's face morphed into utter disgust.

The mask was off, the act was over. Karen reached over, tugging me away from Gretchen and Jason and closer to her. 

"I should have believed them a while ago, apparently." Gretchen snapped.

Jason rolled his eyes. "Please. They're just tinies. What makes them so trustworthy? Actually- what makes them worthy?"

Karen lets out a legitimate gasp from above me. Gretchen looks to me with an expression I can't read. My breath feels caught in my throat. I can't shake the feeling that this may be where I lose my best friend. 

But she looks back at Jason. "I can't believe you really just asked that. Did you think that would help your point? What made you think- oh this will totally get Gretchen on my side? What is wrong with you?"

Jason looks dumbfounded at Gretchen's outburst. "Gretchen-"

I knew it was coming, so it was no surprise as Gretchen raises her arm, and a loud smack echos through the cafeteria over all the oblivious conversations. Jason gasps, his hand shooting up to his cheek. "You fucking bitch-"

"You have treated my friends awfully for too long. Go fuck off and find somewhere else to sit for lunch." Gretchen says simply, turning away from Jason.

Jason doesn't say anything as he looks across the table one last time. Aaron was still on the table but Cady had her hand cupped around him defensively, Damian's hand rested over his chest pocket and Janis gripped onto his finger. Karen had pulled against her arm where I sat pushed away as far away from Jason as possible. It was pretty clear he wasn't wanted here.

"Whatever." He bitterly admits defeat, pushing away from the table and walking away. Gretchen watched him leave before turning to me, wide-eyed.

"I can't believe I didn't believe you." She said sadly. "I can't believe I didn't believe any of you." I hold my arms out and Gretche complies, reaching over to scoop me up. "Regina, I'm so sorry."

I don't try and stop the tears that burn in my eyes as Gretchen holds me close to her.

We still have a lot to talk about after this but-

I've finally won after a long and painful battle. All our giants are awake and no longer oblivious to the suffering. 

I'm safe.

I cling to Gretchens's shirt as the tears poor over my eyes. Gretchen shakes and I realize- she's crying too.

I wouldn't be surprised if I turned around and the whole table was.

Jason was an asshole. He manipulated his way into the friend group and made my life miserable. Plus Janis and Aaron too, I guess. But he's gone now.

We don't have to worry anymore.

We're okay.

It will be okay.

2.5/10 not my best work but fun to write @realmisspolarbear @smallsoysauce @musicallygt

[knightofthecourt]

Shards - Part 5

Final one!

A Handful of Malec snippets, based on various prompts. Alec Lightwood x Magnus Bane - Fluff and romance with a spot of angst.

41. Winter

“Don’t be mad.” 

Magnus glanced up from the book he was reading, to the face of the Shadowhunter in the doorway. He raised an eyebrow inquisitively. “Why would I be mad?” he asked. When Alec didn’t answer he sighed and placed his book down on the coffee table. “Alexander?” 

“I said don’t be mad.” The Shadowhunter narrowed his eyes and then glanced down. 

Magnus followed his gaze and noticed an odd-shaped lump in Alec’s jacket. 

“What is that?” Magnus asked, alarmed. He stood up and took a step towards Alec. “Did you get injured on patrol? Are you hurt? If you got hurt again and Jace didn’t call me I’m going to-”

“Stop.” Alec interrupted. He raised an arm towards Magnus, warning him to stay back, and then reached his other hand inside his jacket.

Magnus’ watched his boyfriend uneasily. If Alec clearly wasn’t injured, but he was still acting strange. If he’d brought home another newfangled weapon he wasn’t going to be happy. He’d almost burned down the living room trying to work out how to use a flamethrower last week and Magnus had finally put his foot down. The apartment was a weapon-free zone. Well, except Alec’s bow of course, but that was hardly a fire risk. 

But when the Shadowhunter’s hand emerged Magnus had to stifle a laugh. 

“I found her in the alley next to the subway station.” He said, gazing down at the small ball of white fluff in his hand. “Her name is Winter - she doesn’t have a tag or anything, I just thought it suited her. She just looked so sad, I couldn’t leave her there and we already have cat food and other cat stuff for Chairman Meow and… well, can we keep her?”

The expression on his face was enough to make Magnus melt. The warlock reached out a hand, slowly, as not to frighten the animal, and the kitten nuzzled her damp nose into his palm. 

“Well, seeing as you’ve already named her.” He smiled as Alec’s face lit up and then bent down to get a better look at their new friend. 

“Hi, Winter,” he murmured, “welcome home.”  

42. Film

“So -- what’s it like, being a vampire?” 

“Aline!” Isabelle looked appalled. “You can’t just go around asking people what it’s like to be a vampire!”

Alec snorted, drawing the girls’ attention to him. 

“What?” Isabelle asked, glaring at him. 

Alec shrugged. “Nothing, Gretchen Weiners.”

“Did you just call her a weiner?” Aline swiveled to face Alec. 

“Urm, no.” Alec spluttered. Weren’t they just fighting? Why was everyone staring at him now? “I just… it’s from a film,” he finished lamely.

“Yeah right” Isabelle scoffed, “Since when do you watch films?” 

“Yeah,” Aline agreed, “which film is it from?” 

“It’s… uh. A film about a mundane high school.” Alec could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. 

“Oh! Mean Girls.” Simon, who had been standing quietly in the corner, forgotten during their exchange, piped up. “It’s a chick flick with Lindsay Lohan in. Hey-,” he smiled at Alec, “that’s quite funny.”

Alec ignored the vampire’s praise and focussed on Izzy. As soon as Simon had said the words ‘chick flick’ a large smile had spread across her face. 

“Ohhh,” she said, grinning “Is this Magnus’s influence?” 

“Magnus?” Aline’s brow crinkled. 

“Alec’s sort-of boyfriend.” Simon supplied, helpfully. 

“Boyfriend?” Now Aline was grinning.  

“Urgggh!” Alec moaned, hiding his glowing face behind his hands. Next time Magnus requested a movie night, he thought, Alec was going to choose the film himself.

43. Green

Green will mend our broken hearts. 

Magnus winced as he caught a glimpse of his emerald green dress shirt in the reflection of a restaurant window as he made his way across the street. After another long, restless night he hadn’t put much thought into how he’d dressed that morning, simply pulling on the first thing his tired hands had dug out from the wardrobe. The irony, that on this day in particular, his random selection had turned out to be green hadn’t hit him until this moment, when the flash of colour bought that line from the old Shadowhunter nursery rhyme to the front of his mind. 

The corner of his lips quirked up ruefully, somewhere between a grimace and a smile, and he wondered briefly, as he weaved purposefully between the New Yorkers cluttering the sidewalk, whether his subconscious had pushed him towards this shirt. Maybe decades of living with a Shadowhunter, of upholding their customs and traditions had actually rubbed off on him. Maybe his unconscious yearning to heal, to mend, made him willing to believe in something as childish as the power of colours. 

The smile slipped from his lips as he walked through a set of tall iron gates, leaving the bustle of the city behind. He paused for a moment, adjusting to the heavy silence that enveloped the area like a fog, and then headed up the well worn path along the side of the cemetery towards the marble angel statue that he knew overlooked the rest of the grounds. The same statue he’d visited every day for the past five years. 

No. After all this time, if there was one thing Magnus had learnt, it was that nothing could fix a broken heart. There was no healing, no mending, no moving on. You simply had to bear the pain, and try to survive.

44. Punk

“What are you wearing?” 

Alec paused, mug of coffee halfway to his mouth, as he stared at his boyfriend. 

“Fabulous, isn’t it?” The warlock gave a wiggle and then twirled so that Alec could see the outfit from every angle. 

“No. I mean, you look good,” said Alec, abandoning his coffee on the counter. “Well, great actually. But you’re not going out like that?” 

“Of course not.” Magnus waved his hand dismissively at the Shadowhunter. “I’d freeze in this weather.” 

Alec nodded mutely, taking in Magnus’s clothes. Or rather, lack of clothes. The warlock was wearing a pair of black ultra-skinny jeans that appeared to be made entirely of scraps of material held together by safety pins and, Alec suspected, willpower. His oversized charcoal t-shirt had a large rip in the side that revealed more than a little of his toned caramel skin and his eyes were ringed artfully with a black glittery eyeshadow that matched the sparkles in his inky spiked hair. 

To Alec, he looked like pure, unadulterated sex. 

“I wore this in the ‘80s you know,” Magnus circled the kitchen slowly, so Alec could take in the full effect of his clothing. “I was quite the punk in those days, got myself into all sorts of mischief.” He dropped one eyelid in a single glittering wink and smirked when Alec almost choked. “I just wanted to see if it still fit.”  

“Uh-huh.” Alec was starting to feel like he was missing something, like he was an unwitting participant in some sort of game. “I thought that was kind of the thing with being immortal though, and, well you. You don’t exactly grow out of your clothes do you?” 

Magnus paused. He leaned forward over the counter and tilted his head as if deep in thought. Then he drummed a finger against his lips. Alec’s gaze dropped to the older man’s mouth and he swallowed unconsciously. Was it him or was the kitchen getting a little warm? 

“Well,” Magnus said, finally. “I guess you’re right, but you can never be too careful. I have a few more outfits I wanted to try on, maybe you can come and give me your opinion?” He raised an eyebrow at the Shadowhunter. 

“Oh?” Alec’s brow furrowed. Magnus wanted him to look at his outfits? But he knew Alec was useless with fashion - oh. He smiled as the realisation clicked in his head. “Oh,” he smiled shyly at the warlock who was now grinning openly at him, and took his outstretched hand. “Yeah, ok, sure.”

45. Paranoia

He was running, sprinting full out into the darkness, legs pumping, thundering down the street as if his only hope of escape was to keep running. And it was, his only hope. The creatures that had been following him for the past three days were almost upon him. He couldn’t see them, in fact he hadn’t managed to get a good look at them this whole time, but he could hear them. That shrill, screeching screaming sound that started as a low buzz and then exploded into ratcheting peals as they grew closer. This is what it would sound like if demons could laugh, he thought. 

Alec swerved left, cutting into the narrow path between two tall, dilapidated buildings and swore violently. It was a dead end. 

He must have gotten turned around. Years of patrolling the streets of Brooklyn with Jace and Izzy meant he knew the city inside and out, he’d never been cornered before, not unless it was part of the plan - using the tight space as a tactical advantage or luring whatever hell beast they were tracking into a trap. This time he was the one who had been caught. 

He ran his hands frantically across the rough, uneven surface of the brick wall in front of him, hoping to find a jutting stone, an exposed pipe, anything he could use as leverage. But there was nothing. 

With a start, he realised that the screaming had stopped, replaced by the heavy thumping sound of blood pumping in his ears. His body was exhausted, three days of hiding and running had driven him to the edge of his physical limits, now he’d finally stopped, he didn’t even have enough energy to defend himself. His legs shook and his muscles ached. The only thing that seemed to be working was his heart, he could feel it pulsing, pounding wildly in his chest as it pushed blood, thick and sluggish around his body.

When he heard it he almost wondered if he’d be able to move. But his body acted on autopilot, years of training kicking his muscles into one last burst that spun him out to the side, away from the dark, hulking shape that lurched towards him. He hit the side of one of the buildings and then sank to the ground, legs finally giving out. Through wavering vision he finally caught a glimpse of his attackers. The three looming beasts were unlike any demons he’d seen before. They had legs and arms, like a human, but their limbs were impossibly long, as if they had been stretched too far. Red glowing eyes were set deep into the thick, cracked black skin that coated their bodies and as one of them opened their mouth to emit a piercing shriek, Alec saw rows upon rows of sharp grey teeth. 

The tallest demon, the one that had shrieked, towered over him and raised one long, thin arm. As strands of blistering purple venom erupted from the creature, Alec closed his eyes and allowed his body to close down. Huh, he thought, as the world darkened around him and heat spread through his body, I always thought this would be cold. 

Izzy knelt beside her brother’s collapsed body and checked his pulse. 

“It’s there but it’s weak,” she said. “We need to get him back before he wakes up.” 

Magnus nodded in agreement and shot a few more flickers of magic into Alec before lowering his arm. “I don’t know if I can keep him under for much longer, although he seems pretty exhausted.” 

“Yeah, you’d almost think he’d been on the run for three days.” Jace commented dryly. 

Izzy cocked her head towards him. “It’s not funny Jace,” She chided, “that demon bite clearly did something to his brain.” 

“I didn’t say it was funny. If anything, it’s shocking - who knew Alec could outrun either of us for three days. He’s not exactly Captain America.” 

“Children.” Magnus glared at them. “Do you think we could do this when Alec is venom-free? Paranoia demon bites might not be fatal but they still pack a punch.” He watched as Izzy and Jace nodded, then bent to pick up Alec. 

“And,” he added as he conjured a portal and stepped through, “I really don’t fancy having to fight off a hallucinating shadowhunter again.”

[syndianites]

The After; The Athar: Chapter Two

Chapter 2/?

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 [Here] - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5

AO3: This Chapter - Full Fic

Summary: Post Season 2, non-Mianitian Compliant. Wag escorts Martha to Jordan's house and decides to have a day out with Sonja.

Relationships: Sparklington (end-game), Marthlington (temporarily), Sparkanite (Spark x Ianite) (past, mentioned), Motanite

Content Warnings: Death Mentions, Implied Depression, Implied PTSD, Self-Deprecation, Breaking up a Relationship (Marthlington)

AN: The stuff about the Cult of Athar in here is canon! It was written by the Wizards, but never delved into. I did my best to represent it as accurately as possible.

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 The duo had just started into Jerry’s Tree when they heard a call behind them. They turned to see Jordan hustling forward, an awkward smile on his face. Wag shared a look with Martha. Seems his suspicions had been correct.

 He’d have to ask Jordan about that.

 Jordan, meanwhile, had shuffled to a stop right in front of them. “Hey guys, glad I caught you.” He glanced between them. “What brings you to my abode?”

 “You were looking for me yesterday, right?” Martha starts. “Well, I do have some free time now, I figured I’d stop by to see what you needed.”

 He stopped for a moment. Hummed. “Oh!” Jordan jumped back in. “I wanted to talk to you about some godly related stuff. Spark’s been- uh, well, he’s been drilling in ‘how to be a perfect Ianite follower’ for-” Wag was amazed that neither of them reacted to the name anymore. Different goddess, of course, but that was still a festering wound. “- whatever reason, and I haven’t been able to escape him long enough to avoid the lecture. I honestly just want to talk to someone that’s more in the know-how that’s,” Jordan waved his hands, “not him. Give me another week of this and I might just turn from champion to missionary.”

 Martha huffed, but a smile snuck up onto her lips. “He’s not that bad, I’m sure. But yes, I do have some time to talk about ‘godly stuff’.” She turned to Wag, hesitating a moment. “I’ll see you later then, Wag.” She reached out a hand to delicately stroke a cheek.

 He gave what he hoped was a solid smile back. “Until then, love.” Wag took her hand, thumb stroking the back of it before he placed a parting kiss upon it. Reluctantly, he started to trail away, keeping her hand in his for as long as he could. When he was far enough, he offered Jordan a wave goodbye. Then he turned to walk back down the hill.

 Shit. Now he had to figure out how to break up with Martha.

 Yeah, these next few days aren’t going to be fun.

 But what to do now? The day had only just started and there wasn’t much use in going back to being a shut in when the sun had hardly started up the sky. Well, hanging with Jordan, or Martha, was out. Maybe Tom? Or Sonja or Tucker? It was fairly hard to keep track of Tom nowadays, though.

 Things were odd with Tom. Not between him and Tom, but with Tom in general. It felt like he was trying to balance who he was in this world and who he was in Ruxomar and not finding either. Like he was feeling pressured to merge the distant past with the recent past and come to terms with Dianite- both Dianites- and Mot.

 What was up with them, anyway? Last Wag had checked, Tom and Mot were fairly buddy buddy and Tom and Dianite were pretty chill, despite the bit of tension when Mot showed up and when Tom’s penchant dumbassery was making its rounds. Now, it seemed like Tom was trying to keep a good distance from them.

 Here he was getting distracted again. But damn if everyone didn’t have some issues skulking around. He wondered if Sonja or Tucker had something. What did they feel about the other Mianite? And his death?

 Ok, ok, not the point. What should he do now?

 Damn, did he really have no life outside of his tower that he was drawing such hard blanks?

 Fuck it, he’d swing around Sonja’s and ask if she wanted to go flower picking with him. Sorry, gather floral ingredients for potions. With how many people were ordering luck potions, he was going to be stuck finding four leaf clovers in all his free time.

 It seemed a pleasant stroll through town was in order, then. Maybe he’d pick up a muffin on the way. Perhaps a chocolate one. He would indulge in some more tea but he was looking for more of an on-the-go thing.

 He nodded to himself, making his way through the streets of the town to the quaint little bakery settled just past the docks. The baker was a kind, younger lady who had told him that her dream was to open a bakery, and an island with few inhabitants that barely anyone had ever been to was free real estate. To be fair, she wasn’t wrong. No one else had tried to make any competition and no one was complaining about her being here. In fact, there would probably be a lot of hooting and hollering if she left.

 When he wandered in the smell of warm bread welcomed him. Gretchen called a greeting from behind the counter, back turned to him as she kneaded a batch of dough. She was short, Wag towering over her, but she could take him out if she so pleased. Not just because she was finely muscled- she could give any seaman a run for their money- but also because a mere breeze could knock Wag and his gangly awkwardness over.

 “How do you do today, dearest Gretchen?” Wag surveyed the items currently on display. The croissants looked heavenly, and next to them sat three eclairs. They appeared to have been recently chilled as their chocolate icing had drops of condensation beading along the top. There was a colorful display of macarons on the rack besides those, as well as a row of various muffins.

 “Oh, I’m doing as well as one can when they wake at the crack of dawn,” Gretchen said over her shoulder, giving him a quick smile.

 “So feeling shitty and barely functional?” Wag mused over the muffins, trying to spy a chocolate one. Unfortunately, though he was quite awake, his brain was struggling to spot the difference between what could be a chocolate muffin or a blueberry muffin. Or a morning glory. He wrinkled his nose. Why would anyone put raisins in a muffin?

 Gretchen laughed. “Perhaps for a shut in, but I am feeling quite fine. It’s nice to watch the sunrise, y’know. Getting up early? Not so much. If not for the bakery I’d much prefer to sleep in.”

 Wag scoffed playfully. “Me, a shut in? Preposterous. I’ll have you know I am, at worst, a friendly, magical hermit. At best, I am a magnificent wizard that lives in a tower nearby that oh so graciously helps out the townsfolk.”

 “For a fee.” Gretchen was layering the dough now. If there weren't croissants sitting in front of him, Wag might say she was making those. Perhaps she was making danish pastries? It had been a while since he’d seen them on her display. It’d also been a while since he’d visited.

 “A wizard’s got to make a living somehow.” Wag picked up a muffin, closely inspecting it. It looked like it was chocolate. He hoped it was chocolate. But if it was blueberry he would live. Both were good, especially from here.

 “That he does.” She paused from her dough magic to take a look at him. “Blueberry muffin? Anything else?”

 Wag clicked his tongue. “Was hoping this was chocolate. But yes, just one muffin to go. I wasn’t really anticipating being awake so early, but Martha was home and she likes to get up early, and Jordan wanted to talk to her, and I,” he waved his hands, “wanted to spend some time with her? So I walked her to his house. Now, I’m standing here. Then heading to Sonja’s.”

 Yeah, it felt like he’d just recounted his entire life story to her. No, he was not going to acknowledge how painful that part of the conversation was to participate in.

 Gretchen raised an eyebrow, plucking the muffin from his hand, replacing it on the rack and grabbing one from farther back in the line. This one, now that he saw it, looked much more like a chocolate muffin than the other. Nice.

 “Funny you should mention Jordan.” It was Wag’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “He asked about you, oh, yesterday? The day before? About how you were doing. Seemed fairly concerned ‘bout ya. Asked me how you were doing when he came in for a treat.” She lifted a hand before Wag could interrupt. “He came here for the treat, but I guess he had you on the mind. This used to be one of your favorite places, I suppose it reminded him of you.”

 Well if that didn’t make Wag feel warm on the inside, what would? It was nice to feel remembered. But wait, was that why Jordan had come over yesterday, then? Except he had been looking for Martha.

 That put a frown back on his face. “He did swing by yesterday, but he asked for Martha. Are you sure he was concerned about me?”

 Gretchen rolled her eyes. “Yes. It was very obvious even if he tried to hide it. I did tell him that Martha would know more about how you were doing than I would, so that could be why he asked for her.” She held out her hand and Wag dutifully placed some copper coins in it. “Mr. Sparklez doesn’t seem like the best with confronting people about their feelings, so it wouldn’t surprise me that he’d see you and balk at the idea of bringing up his concerns with you directly. Going to Martha would be way easier for him than going to you. If he actually ever asks Martha about you at all.”

 Wag hummed in thought, ignoring the little ‘wuss’ Gretchen mutters under her breath in relation to Jordan. That much was true, Jordan was not much of a feelings guy. The dorky puns and trying hard to be the smart one guy? Yes. Feelings? You’d have better luck with Tom.

 Actually, Tom was pretty easy on the feelings side. Kind of. You’d have better luck with Tucker than Jordan. And Tucker was not the most emotional sort of man. There we go.

 “Well, when I left Martha with Jordan, he said he wanted to ask her about ‘godly stuff’. Do you think they’re actually talking about me?” Wag pulled a sliver off the top of his muffin and nibbled on it.

 Gretched leaned on the counter with a shrug, dropping the coins into her apron pocket. “Maybe. Who’s to say?” She eyed him up and down, a contemplative look coming into her eyes. “Didn’t you say you were heading to Sonja’s? That’s good, you could use more time out of the house. If you weren’t naturally gray I’d say you were getting pale. Hard to tell like this, but you are getting more of the ‘I’m your friendly neighborhood ghost’ type look than ‘I’m your charming, possibly demonic, friendly wizard’ type look. Take one for the road,” Gretchen reached over to pluck another muffin off the rack, passing it to Wag.

 “What if I just eat both myself?” Wag joked, taking the muffin in his other hand.

 Gretchen tsked. “Sorry, I only give freebies to the pretty ladies. You sir, are no pretty lady.”

 Wag gasped, “How dare you! My mother said I could be anything I wanted to be! If I want to be a pretty lady to get a free muffin, I’ll be a pretty lady!”

 She pushed his shoulder with a guffaw. “Oh sure, princess. If you ever come in dressed to the nines as the most gorgeous lady I’ve seen, I’ll give you a pretty muffin. Be warned,” Gretchen bat her eyelashes. “I have seen quite the stunning women before.”

 Wag rolled his eyes fondly, making for the door. “Just you watch, I’ll come blow your socks off!”

 With a wave, he departed. He twirled the other muffin in his hand. Free muffin for a pretty lady, huh?

 Wait, was Gretchen hitting on Sonja?

 ~~~

 Wag didn’t end up making it to Sonja and Tucker’s house. Rather, he found Sonja sitting near the shore just in front of it, staring up at Mianite’s temple. He didn’t take Sonja for much of a morning person, but it seemed like the temple would have a nice view during sunrise.

 Settling down next to her without a comment, he offered her the muffin. Sonja was surprised to see him, her eyes searching his face, but wordlessly took the muffin. They ate them in silence.

 The temple had changed a lot, but that was to be expected. It had been razed to the ocean floor, after all. But from what he had heard there had been a big effort in rebuilding it. Though the work would have taken years, it apparently had taken mere months.

 Mianite, according to word of mouth, hadn’t helped rebuild it at all. Rather, he didn’t expect anyone else to move to the island. Hell, neither did Dec, who had been making plans to move elsewhere. It made Wag wonder why the gods, why the priest himself, had shown up here. Why had the wizards? He drummed his fingers against his leg, dismissing the thought for another time.

 The wizards, before the heroes had even left, had refused to help. Wag remembered this well. They hadn’t wanted to step on Mianite’s toes, so to say, as it was a gift he had sent the world and had been crafted by the god’s own hand.

 Actually- again- Ianite had played a part in rebuilding it. It was almost strange to think about, the Goddess of Balance rebuilding the temple of another god. Except, it made sense. She didn’t rebuild it of her own power. Rather, she encouraged the common folk to rebuild it and helped a great deal along the way. She invited people from far off lands to come restore the temple and, with the assistance of Spark, set up the town that had been cultivated as a solid landmark. Ianite used the restoration of the temple as a way of connecting the island to the rest of the world.

 Though, when asked why she had chosen to help rebuild the temple, Ianite had responded, “It’s my way of thanking Mianite and his champions for helping to save me. It is the least I could do for such a tremendous task.”

 Maybe that’s why she rebuilt Jerry’s Tree, too. To thank Jordan. Or to honor him.

 Wag’s favorite part of this story- as it was only a story to him, he’d never had any real confirmation on this- was what Ianite had said: Mianite and his      champions. Plural. That meant Ianite acknowledged Sonja as Mianite’s loyal follower and champion just as much as Tucker. Sonja deserved it for all the effort she had put into this world and the last. She deserved a lot more than she got.

 “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Wag startled at the sound of Sonja’s voice. He turned to her, but she was looking at the temple still. She inclined her head towards it, saying nothing more.

 He had been looking at the temple without seeing it, he realized. Thinking too hard.

 She was right. The sun was still low in the sky, giving it a faintly fiery hue. It couldn't have been too long since sunrise, yet the color of dawn still remained. Perhaps that was just the effect of the ocean.

 But the effect made the temple light up. The eagle, standing mighty and proud once more, was burning in the light, smoldering and strong, wings raised up to the sky with an open, shrieking cry. It was the symbol of strength and sureness, of justice. The sun was a halo around it, blindingly bright.

 That’s how the future felt: burning and bright, impossible to grasp. But it was there.

 The rest of the temple held much of the same vigor. The majority of the original details were kept, but they were also exaggerated. The pillars had been built double the size, a subtle comment of ‘no matter how many times you knock us down we will return stronger’, the garden fuller and more organized, filled to the brim with blooming blossoms. The walls were filled with more gold than before, and more detail. Each column was carefully carved to perfection, but at this distance he couldn’t make all the details out. From what he remembered they ranged from majestic creatures running amok, to people dancing in celebration, to the retelling of great battles. The arches that served as the entrance had been decorated to the fullest, lavish silks and jewels hanging from their edges along the dutifully crafted gold lining.

 The best part were the guardians. They stood tall and proud, just as regal as before but now with more life, more color. Rather than the same straight white they had been they were adorned with golds and blues. Shimmering prismarine and lapis lazuli. Their swords were colored to appear like the finest, purest gold- though Wag knew that they weren’t made of real gold, as that would have been more than expensive. To top it all off, each featured a set of wings raised high to the sky, like the very eagle that sat in the middle of the temple.

 Another important detail was the fact that the back of the temple was open as well, likely for passing boats to see. On the other side stood dual lighthouses that burned bright in the night with mystical fire that would neither go out or be moved from their place. The area to drop prayers had been moved to the eagle’s feet and the hidden room supposedly not implemented. Supposedly.

 It was truly stunning. Where the change in Jerry’s Tree felt like a rebirth, this felt like getting beaten down only to get up again. Like healing. Growing.

 “It is.” He’d left her in silence long enough. “I still remember when it first appeared. It was glorious. Now?” Wag turns to her, maybe trying to make a point, maybe trying to say something deep, or just maybe just thinking out loud. “After being destroyed? It’s come back better.”

 Damn, who the hell turned on the philosophy today? Next thing you know he’ll be wondering aloud what existence is and if there is a purpose to life.

 Fuck that shit.

 Isn’t this the exact thing that had been haunting him as he stowed away in his tower? His thoughts falling over themselves to derive meaning out of every little thing that’s changed? To make sense of it? The temple looks better because it's not a pile of rubble. Jerry’s Tree is different because it was practically a pile of ash before. Why does this all need meaning?

 Sonja seemed to share his sentiment. She laughed at him. “Hey now, that’s trying to be too deep for so early in the morning. Come back better? Ha. It's just,” she pauses, giving it a wistful glance before shaking her head. “Different.”

 Wag nods. “It is. It all is. Feels like everything’s changing, like we got plopped in a world just adjacent to ours.”

 “Too deep!” Sonja decreed. Standing up, she brushed the back of her legs free of stray grass and sand. “Things are going to change and that’s that. I wasn’t expecting the world to wait on us, and it didn’t. That just means we have to catch up or get left in the dust.”

 “Who’s too deep?” Wag chuckled to himself, taking the hand Sonja offered him.

 “Alright, enough sitting around.” She sent a sly smile over to him after she jammed the rest of her muffin in her mouth. Wag watched in amusement as she chewed hastily, tried not to choke, and spluttered a little as some went down the wrong hatch.

 Recovering fast, she gives him a pained grin. “What brings Mr. Tower Wizard out of the lair today? Something good, I hope.” She poked him in the ribs teasingly.

 “Well,” Wag starts, ignoring the dig, “Martha happened to be home last night and I had the pleasure of walking her over to Jordan’s to chat about something. Which is why I am both awake before lunch and currently standing outside. I figured it’d been a while since I bothered you, so here I am, bothering you.” He finished with a wink.

 Sonja frowned for a moment, focusing on something he said, before deciding to let it go. For now, at least. Knowing her, she’d find a way to bring it up later. Wag wasn’t quite looking forward to whatever she had latched onto.

 Filling the silence, Wag added, “I was thinking we could go plant hunting. Specifically for four leaf clovers, but also for any other potentially useful plants. You know, for potions.”

 He tried for a smile while Sonja looked him over. Her eyebrows rose. “You go plant hunting in that? Your typical robes and all? It’s, like, the middle of spring.”

 Wag shrugged. “It’s not that big of a difference. Just gets the cloak a bit dirty.”

 She scoffed. “Just gets the cloak a bit dirty,” Sonja muttered. “I bet you don’t even bring any food or water with you, do you?”

 He looked to the side. “Of course I do!” That wasn’t a lie. He always brought at least a snack and a water skin. He wasn’t that stupid.

 “I’ll believe you, for now.” She assessed her own outfit. Her typical hoodie over a white t-shirt, some lounge pants, and bare feet. “I, for one, need to get dressed. I would recommend,” she drew out the last word, giving him a look, “That you change into something more suitable for romping around the countryside. I won't force you to, but I won't be helping you if you get hot and sweaty and pass out like an idiot.”

 He wanted to retort that he wouldn’t. That he was a wizard with powers that came close to the gods’ themselves. That weather was no issue for him.

 But it had been in Ruxomar. The trip to Urulu had been sweltering. The Nether felt like it had been trying to slowly boil him alive. Whenever he’d come out of water, clothes damp as a rain shower, he’d felt frigid.

 It still felt like he was in Ruxomar, powerless and startlingly mortal.

 He bit his tongue.

 Instead he shook his head, and started to wander back to his tower. He stopped as Sonja called after him. “Meet right here after you get dressed. I’ll round up some food and shit and then we can leave.” She turned to head back into her house. “If you thought I was going to trek up to your tower up in the sky you were wrong!” Then she shuffled up the hill with a laugh.

 ~~~

 They convened later at the shore as told. Sonja looked at Wag with a little glee, having convinced him to actually change.

 Athar knows how long it’d been since he’d changed.

 … why did he swear on Athar’s name anyway? He helped kill him. Shouldn’t he swear on his own name? Wag shrugged mentally to himself. Better to swear on a dead guy's name than his own.

 Anyway. Sidetrack.

 Wag, instead of his usual cloak, was in surprisingly adventure-ready getup. Long sleeve hooded shirt- Sonja rolled her eyes at the hood- thick, but breathable, pants, and hiking boots. Actual hiking boots. That spoke volumes about how much Wag had tried to look like he knew what he was doing. Oh, and he had one of those handy dandy belt satchels? Utility belts? A belt that had neat pouches on it for carrying flowers and clovers. Hell yeah.

 Sonja, on the other hand, had dressed much more like her usual outfit. To be fair, though, her usual outfit was both light and what she fought literal battles in. However, instead of short-shorts she had knee-length shorts. Her socks fit nicely underneath. Somewhere along the line she’d found black, fingerless gloves as well. Wag had a sneaking suspicion that she’d stolen them from Tucker.

 “Alright, now that we’re all ready to go-” Sonja made a point of jostling the backpack she had slung over her shoulders, likely filled with food and drinks she had raided from her own kitchen,”-we can commence our dainty flower picking session. If you don’t find me the biggest, bluest flower the world has ever seen to leave for Mianite then this trip is a failure.”

 Wag nods sagely. “It will be the most magical of flowers ever seen.” With a sweep of his arm, he motions for Sonja to lead the charge into the wilderness. Which wilderness? The Wilderness.

 Basically they were going to go wander around out past the old FyreUK Castle. Why there? Where Wag has to look at the castle and remember everything that used to be? Easy: there’s a lingering magic that lurks about the castle that makes it more likely for magical flora to sprout and grow. Also because no one goes over there.

 Mostly because no one goes over there.

 It took them roughly a half hour of trailing up and down hills, through dry grass and loose dirt, and a few quick hops through water to get to the Castle. Good old FyreUK HQ. Still standing.

 They were on the bridge, stopping to take a rest. Wag took a sweeping glance of the Castle and then looked away. Sonja tactfully didn’t ask about it. Instead, she waited while Wag poked around the trees sitting in the circle part of the bridge, watching him prod at the vines and undergrowth that had gathered there over the years. At one point he took out a pair of clippers, untangled a flowering vine from one of the tree’s branches, and politely snipped part of it off and curled it into a pocket.

 Then they were off again, back down the bridge and further into the country. Not too much further, actually. The end of the bridge was just a hop, skip, and jump away from an oak forest, which was a breath of fresh air compared to the endless savanna and desert motif of the island. It was also right next to a nice little plains area.

 Which made it perfect for Wag’s plans. Plains for the clovers and cool flowers, the forest for any other interesting stuff. He remembered chilling there in between building sessions for FryeUK HQ itself. It was always much cooler than the area around it.

 “Well, darling dearest, here we are.” Wag gave a little twirl. “Here we shall find you the most magical of flowers for your pretty, pretty princess, Mianite himself. And maybe one for his maid, Tucker.”

 “Ha!” Sonja turns her head away to snicker to herself. “If anything his fairest maid should be giving me flowers!” Her laughter dropped into a small, wistful smile. “Maybe I will.”

 Wag gave her a description of some of the regular flowers and plants that he normally went for, then sauntered off into the woods.

 Classy.

 Sonja followed with a fond eye roll, eyeing flowers as they passed. True to Wag’s suspicions, -which weren’t suspicions so much as things he already knew from before, but who was keeping track?- there were some strange, magical flora laying about. Not magical in the ‘consume it to get temporary fire powers way’, but more magical in the ‘these colors aren’t something flowers can pull off on their own’ or ‘this shouldn’t ever have been able to get this big’. Like if they were subject to radiation, except this world had no concept of yellorium as far as he knew.

 The first thing Wag collected was something of a marvel. Not because it was beautiful, but because it was weird. It looked like a flower. But instead of growing leaves along the stem, it grew petals. They were a soft pink, like the flush of skin, and soft to the touch. Not a trace of leaves remained on the flower. For all intents and purposes, it looked like a failed daisy. Or a successful one?

 There weren’t many magical flowers, in all honesty. For all the magic the wizards had done, most of it was just absorbed into the earth as per normal. The world was teeming with magic, but that was what made it function. What made the gods gods was the fact that they could use this magic. Or, rather, that they, too, were filled with it.

 It showed up in a lot of ways. Witches, potions, the way you could grow anything from any environment you wanted to, so as long as you gave it what it needed. Well, that last one wasn’t impossible, but what other world could you go to a desert, with minimal rain and the sweltering sun, and plant something that relies on constant water to thrive and have it live for months upon months?

 He was getting sidetracked again.

 The point was, this was just a small, insignificant place where a little bit of magic overflowed because of the proximity to the wizards. It used to have more weird things happen, but now the wizards were gone and Wag was… yeah. So he’d sometimes stumble upon a flower with a gradient from purple to red and have to puzzle out whether that was a normal mutation or a magical one. Then the flower would shimmer and the gradient would shift and he’d decide, yeah, that      was    a magical mutation, he was right!

 Flowers were weird on their own, what could he say?

 His favorite were the cornflowers. Not because they were beautiful- they were!- but because, by some manner of magic, they migrated over here on their own. You couldn’t find them in the savannah, or the desert, or even near the coastline. But here, in this tiny blip of forest and plains, they surfaced. He had half a mind to wonder if they weren’t a result of two different flowers populating, then the offspring mutating. Cornflowers, however, were a real flower. They just shouldn’t be real here. Which was cool.

 So maybe Wag had become something of a flower nut over the past few weeks. Who was going to judge him, the gods? Well, fuck them! Not literally, though.

 The cornflowers before him, however, were something special. From what he knew, they weren’t supposed to be this big, nor were they supposed to grow in such small units. They should be something more like a bush, with multiple stalks sprouting out and huddled together. The ones he found, Sonja poking at some poppies behind him, were very much trying to act like tulips. Less group-y and more individual.

 He suspected magic was involved.

 The buds alone were about the size of his palm, and those that had flowered were almost bigger than his hand! They were marvelous. And blue!

 Wag snuck a look at Sonja, who was blissfully unaware of his sudden bout of mischief. He plucked a stalk- which was as thick as a pencil- and twisted around to carefully tickle the tip of her tail with the broken end of the stem. She didn’t notice, face scrunched up in thought as she appeared to be trying to decide if the poppies were out of the ordinary or not. They weren’t. Just good ole regular poppies.

 Fighting back a snicker, he gently and slowly trailed the stem upward. It took the stem going from white to orange fur for Sonja to suddenly startle, ears shooting up and back going ramrod straight. She took a swipe at the flower, but Wag hurried out of the way. Clutching the poor, innocent cornflower to his chest, he mock gasped.

 “Sonja! You almost destroyed the biggest, bluest flower I’ve ever seen!” He brought the back of his hand to his forehead. “Could you imagine if you had? We’d have to return with it crushed! Or worse.” Wag’s eyes widened comically. His voice dropped to a stage whisper. “The second biggest, most bluest flower.”

 She gasped in shock. Her voice was but a mutter. “No, we can’t have that. Imagine! Bringing home something second best! T'would be not only a shame, but a disrespect to his name. I could never.”

 Wag nodded sagely. He cradled the blossom between his hands, reverently offering it up to Sonja. “Treat it well. Though it may seem insignificant in the grand scheme of your life, it holds value untold. The gods themselves tremble beneath its weight, the tremors of the earth quake for its life. Hold onto this and you hold onto what men are willing to go to war for.”

 Sonja delicately grasped its stem, a serious look on her face. “I will, O’ great wizard. I will guard this to my last breath, travel across a thousand seas, five hundred miles of land, to bequeath this to the god of which I hold most dear.”

 Her lips twitched as she tried to keep her laughter in. “Ianite, of course.”

 Wag, however, burst out laughing. “Oh yes, the god you follow, Ianite herself. Mianite who?”

 Facade breaking, Sonja joined in the laughter. Placing the flower down, she held onto her stomach, curling around it. Wag tried not to fall over from his dramatic kneel.

 They took a second to calm down, smiles still firm on their faces.

 “But yes, this will be satisfactory as a gift to Mianite.” Sonja appraised it, looking past him to eye the bush it came from. “What are these flowers? I don’t think I’ve seen them before.” She looked back to Wag. “And I dabbled in Botania in the other realm.”

 Wag stood up, turning his attention back to the flora. “Cornflowers. They live in more temperate climates; plains, some forests, and such. It’s strange to have found them here, all things considered.” He gestures around vaguely. “We do live in a mostly savanna environment. I’m not even sure how they made it to this little patch of paradise, never mind the fact that this area exists as it does.”

 He shrugs. “It is what it is. They are rather pretty. They are most typically associated with hope, devotion, and remembrance.”

 “And,” He places a hand on his heart, “According to some good ol’ folk tales, men in love would carry them around. If the color of the flower faded quickly, it meant their love was not returned. So,” Wag picked it back up, “If you wanted to listen to superstition, if the color lasts that means Mianite cares a whole lot about you.”

 Sonja scoffed. “Oh please, he is far too regal and orderly to fancy anyone, never mind a human. Or, well,” she flicks her tail, “someone mostly human.”

 “Imagine if he actually did, though! Tucker would be in for quite the competition. Champion of Mianite? Try Queen of Mianite.” Wag winked, holding the flower back out to her.

 Except it seemed that was the wrong thing to say.

 She held her breath, wilting before him “Yeah,” Sonja mumbled at the flower, “Tucker would really be in for it.”

 There was a pause.

 Wag eased back down towards the ground, getting comfortable. He tugged on Sonja’s sleeve to bring her down as well. Setting the flower aside, he pondered his next words. If he was going to pull out any wisdom, it better be now.

 “Things aren’t going too great between you two, are they?” Wag started, giving her the option to push the conversation aside.

 Sonja was silent for a second. Her ears flicked back and forth, agitated. Then she let out a sigh, deep and heavy.

 “No.”

 Wag nodded slowly. “It’d help to talk about it.”

 He wanted to help, wanted to know more, but he didn’t want to press. He wouldn’t dare push the boundaries when it felt like he was already on the brink of losing someone else he cared about. A two for two special on failing relationships would hurt.

 Biting the inside of his cheek, he reminded himself that this was about Sonja. Not his life problems. Hers!

 “It’s…” she cast her eyes around them. “Kinda heavy. Would you be ok hearing about it? I don’t want to bring your mood down.”

 Wag gently bumped shoulders with her. “Of course. I’m all ears if you ever need it.”

 Sonja opted for a smile, though it fell more towards a grimace. “Thanks.”

 She went quiet again. Wag could see the thoughts churning in her head, gears clicking and turning along.

 “I was.” She stopped. Started again. “I used to be.” Biting her lip, she took a breath. “There was a brief moment of time that I worked for the Shadows.”

 Oh.

 Oh shit.

 She couldn't meet his eyes, which is probably a good thing because he didn’t know what to say. ‘Sorry that you used to work for the people who wanted to kill all the gods and take over the world, or some stupid thing like that’? ‘Yikes’?

 ‘Cause yikes.

 “That’s, well, not what I was expecting.” He suppressed the urge to crack a joke. “And yeah, that’s pretty heavy.”

 Sonja drooped a little beside him, and he had to rush in the rest of his words.

 “But that’s not the end of the world. You aren’t working for them anymore, and even if you were you have been my friend and helped save so many people that I feel that it wouldn’t matter. Your actions say more about your character than who you follow does.” He hoped that curbed her fear and doubt, if only for a moment. And, because he couldn’t help himself, he added, “Hey, look at Tom. He’s a little chaos rat who followed a real evil guy and we still love him. The standards can’t get lower than that.”

 She huffed, and Wag counted that as a win.

 She took a peek at him. “You took that a lot better than Tucker did.”

 Suddenly, it clicks. She told Tucker, the ultimate devotee of Mianite, who had been willing to follow an evil version of his god just because he had the same name as his actual god. Tucker, who held strong to his beliefs and only turned on the Other Mianite when he went too far. Tucker, who’s devotion to Mianite came after little else, if after anything at all.

 Tucker would not only have been appalled that she faltered in her devotion to Mianite, but felt down right betrayed that she would work for someone who wanted to kill his god.  

 Tucker wasn’t Tom. He wasn’t willing to work for a god that was near unanimously seen as chaotic, destructive, and evil. But he would also be easily blinded by the misdeeds of his god after seeing only the good in him for so long. He wouldn’t kill his god for his friends, he wouldn’t save his friends from his god. If Mianite told him to kill, he would.

 He had killed the Ianitas under the Other Mianite’s command.

 So Sonja, regardless of how much he loved her, telling him she had been part of the Shadows?

 Wag could only imagine his reaction.

 Instead of making much comment on Tucker, Wag offered her a smile. “The Shadows don’t mean as much to me.” That got her to look up. “I’m- I was a wizard, remember?”

 Meeting her eyes, he saw the start of understanding. Then it struck him- he never told her how he became a wizard. “Sonja.” It was his turn to look away. “Do you know about the Cult of Athar?”

 She mouthed the words, face scrunching up. Silently, she shook her head. “The Cult of Athar was formed in the name of Athar, who was a god. Or close to one. They weren’t sure of that, at the time they formed the Cult, but he was. Instead, they thought he was a godly power that existed and was given to those who were worthy. In a way, they weren’t wrong.”

 “Was?” Already she was picking up on the ending.

 “We’ll get to that.” Wag picked at the grass in front of him. “The Cult was made of four mortal people. They studied, they trained, they crafted, they worked their assess off to get a glimpse of the Athar. Nothing worked.”

 Sonja nodded, eyes searching Wag’s face. Connecting dots. Her gaze lingered on his dark skin and endless tears of blood. It wouldn’t be long before she pieced it together.

 “One day, they found an ancient scroll.” Sonja scoffed at this detail. “Look, I know it’s cliche but this is my story I’m telling and you will suffer through any cliche moments in it. I will add a magical girl transformation scene in here just to spite you.” They held each other’s gaze for a moment.

 Then both burst out laughing. With a fond shake of her head, Sonja shoved him gently. “Who’s to say you won't anyway?”

 With a mock offended gasp, Wag dramatically clutched his heart. “How could you. I guess you don’t want the story of this freaky, weird cult of absolute dorks.”

 “No, no, I do. Please continue, Mr. Extravagant Storyteller.”

 Holding back a smile, Wag started back up. “In this scroll was a ritual. According to the scroll, if you performed the ritual you could summon down the god that possessed the power of Athar- who was actually called Athar so really calling the ‘godly power’ Athar was redundant. By calling him down you could duel him for the right to hold that power and use it yourself.”

 He trailed off now. It seemed, now of all times, that the reality of what he had lost sunk in. “By defeating Athar, who was a selfish, greedy god, they themselves could become gods among mortals. But they vowed to be benevolent, loving gods. Gods who would help humanity unlike that who came before them. They wanted to make a change in the world, to help build it up in the name of peace and prosperity.”

 “So they killed him?”

 Wag nodded.

 “You were one of them, weren’t you?” Sonja pressed gently. “And the rest of the wizards, too?”

 He nodded again.

 When he made no further comment, she spoke again. “I always wondered how you guys became wizards. I just figured you guys were born from, I don’t know, dragons or something. Something badass like that. Or maybe just one day you guys popped into existence all like, ‘Golly gee, there’s an open plot of land here, and I sure do feel like making something. You guys want to build? I want to build.’”

 Wag laughed despite himself. “I wish we were dragons. That’d be so much cooler than waltzing up to a god and telling him you’d be better at his job.”

 “No, I think that’s still pretty badass.” She slowly leaned over to rest on his shoulder.

 The sun was just starting to fall from its highest peak, making it just past noon. They still had a whole day ahead of them, if they pleased. But there was something settling about sitting here, with a friend, letting your secrets loose.

 “The point is,” Wag rested his head on hers, “That I’ve actually killed a god. I formed a cult with the intent of becoming godlike. You joining the Shadows? For whatever reason? I’m not that phased. Sure, the Shadows wanted to kill all the gods, even the nice ones, but I’m not about to go cherry picking which gods can and cannot live. You guys didn’t kill Dianite until he almost killed Ianite. Eye for an eye, y’know?”

 They were silent after that. Just sitting there, looking out into the mix and blend of savanna, plains, and desert. This didn’t fix anything for Sonja, he knew, but at the very least she knew she had an ally, a friend through all of this.

 “Thank you,” Sonja blurted. “It’s. I feel better knowing someone won’t ostracise me for my past.”

 “No one is going to ostracize you!” Rolling his eyes, Wag turned to look at her. “And if they do they’re a bitch and you didn’t need them in the first place.”

 “I don’t know. Tucker was really upset. I think I’ve burned any relationship we had.” She pulled her legs up to wrap her arms around. “I’m afraid that he won’t even be able to look at me. What would Jordan think? What would Tom? Or Dec or Champ? What would the gods?”

 Wag wrapped an arm around her. “It’s going to be a shock, for sure.”

 But the thing was, she was still their friend.

 “Jordan will take it with suspicion and unease, which is usual for him. But, for all that he will be wary, he will still be your friend. Honestly?” He squeezed her arm. “Your situation isn’t new to us, not exactly.”

 An ear flicked against his cheek. “What do you mean?”

 “Well,” Wag blew on it and it flicked again, “There’s Tom’s whole thing.”

 She lifted her head at this. A frown tugged at her lips. “What? What do you mean by that?”

 Ah, Wag had a feeling that she hadn’t thought about this.

 “Tom was the loyal champion of this world’s Dianite.” He was trying to lead her into the connection. It’d be easier for her to relate if she figured it out on her own.

 “So?”

 However, that meant she had to figure it out.

 “I suppose it’s a little harder to see from your perspective. Tom, the friend you guys all love despite his love of chaos, stealing, and murder,” He stressed the murder part, “was the champion of the god you had to kill to stop from killing Ianite.”

 Sonja blinked at him.

 Maybe it wasn’t as obvious as he thought.

 “Tom was loyal to Dianite above all else. He’d kill for him, he’d die for him, he was practically a lapdog at points, eagerly wanting to please him. Even when he failed him and was punished.” Wag shook his head fondly. “He would have killed Ianite if Dianite asked. He would have killed Ianite.”

 Tom would have done a lot of things for Dianite. The Shadows wanted to recruit him for his burning loyalty to who he followed and his willingness to kill and destroy.

 It was starting to click in Sonja’s head. Her frown became less confused and more thoughtful.

 “Maybe it was hard to see, since you were much closer to him than I was at the time, but Tom was set against all of you. Yet he still wanted to be your friend. He still wanted the best for you- when it didn’t involve him stopping his own chaos and fun- because he cared about you guys. In fact, he repeatedly stole from you and killed you, and he’s still your friend.”

 She was there. So, so close. Right on the edge of a breakthrough.

 “But Tom was,” she waved a hand, “Tom.”

 And there it was. The thing that she held her back. The thing that pulled at her conscious in this whole debacle.

 “So?” Wag wasn’t going to pull any punches. “Why are you holding him to a different standard than yourself? If he gets a pass, if he can follow someone who’s intent was destruction and death, just like the Shadow’s was, in a way, why can’t you?”

 Sonja was silent. She opened her mouth. Then closed it. Her eyes went wide.

 Gently, he squeezed her shoulder. “Jordan is still friends with Tom. Tucker is still friends with Tom. They both suffered at his hands, but they’re still friends. They still care about him. Just because you served, for some brief time, an entity that was just as evil as Dianite had been, at one point, doesn’t mean they’ll stop caring about you.”

 “What about Tom, then?” She straightened up, something stirring in her eyes. “What would he think?”

 Wag held back a laugh. “He wouldn’t care? Remember Nadeshot? Remember Cronus? He was friends with both.” Sonja gave him a look. “Oh come one, this one should have been obvious. Nadeshot told Tom he joined the Shadows, and what did Tom do? He had the us- the wizards- build him a fucking castle. The last person who would give a shit about you being part of the Shadows- having used to be part of- would be Tom!”

 Sure, she looked like she was about to punch him, but it was a little ridiculous to think that Tom would give a shit about something like that.

 Wag turned his head away. “Sorry, sorry. I shouldn’t be laughing. This is a very serious situation and I should try my best to stay serious.”

 “Yeah, you should.” Sonja gave him a light punch to the arm, “Asshole.”

 “But the thing is, we’re still going to be here for you. We’ve been to a whole other world, we fell through the void together. You’ve had our backs from day one. We’ll always have yours.” He ended with a gentle smile.

 Sonja settled back down, head on his shoulder once more. “That does make me feel a little better. But things won’t be the same. Nothing will, really.”

 That was true. They would probably look at her different, in a new light. They’d reconsider some things, rethink what image they had of her. But at the end of the day, they’d still be together.

 As Wag set his head back down atop hers, she whispered, “I guess things haven’t really been the same in a while.”

[spookyrobbins]

mint chip

fandom: mean girls 

ship: regina/janis

rating: very light m

read on ao3

I just wanted a taste.

In Janis’ defense, it was really hot out. Like balls fucking hot outside. Like she had ditched the tights and was just in shorts. But that didn’t entirely excuse the way she practically fainted when Regina pressed her lips against Janis’s.

Wait, maybe she should back up a bit.

It was all Cady’s fault, because of course it was.

If it weren’t for Cady, she wouldn’t have been at Gretchen’s house in the middle of July, sitting on the side of the oversized pool with Regina. If it weren’t for Cady, Janis wouldn’t even have been talking to Regina (but that was a whole ‘nother story). And most importantly, if it weren’t for Cady, who forgot to pick up more ice cream because she was too busy making out with her boyfriend, they wouldn’t have run out of mint chip.

It was also sort of Gretchen’s fault, although not as much as it was Cady’s fault. Gretchen was the one who wanted them all to have ice cream cones for her instagram.

(“Well, Janis, I don’t know if you know this, but there’s a certain aesthetic to be maintained on Instagram.”

“Thank you, Gretchen, I had heard of that thing you’ve called aesthetic.”)

And so, thanks to Gretchen, Janis had found herself, watching behind overly large sunglasses thank god, as Regina licked around a chocolate ice cream cone, her pink tongue peeking out from even pinker lips.

It was enough to make a girl swoon, regardless of the heat.

Not that Janis would ever admit that to anyone, ever.

(She didn’t have to. They all knew anyway.)

“Oh fuck!”  Janis cursed as some of her mint chip dripped onto her hand, shirt and leg. “Jesus.” She stood up abruptly while Regina looked at her with amusement over her Prada sunglasses. “I’m just gonna go, ya know, clean up.”

“Make sure to dab, not scrub, dearest!” Damian called out from his spot lounging in the sun.  

“Good plan,” rasped Regina, her tone light and amused.

Janis cast a glance towards the rest of her friends who were busy with a game of chicken, Karen and Cady perched on Gretchen and Aaron’s shoulders respectively.

She slipped into Gretchen’s ridiculously large kitchen, all fancy marble and copper pots hanging from the ceiling. Wetting a paper towel with one hand, Janis licked up the last of her ice cream before it could drip onto her hand.

“Is there any more of that?”

Janis spun around, almost dropping the ice cream.

“Geez, you need like a bell or something.” Regina nodded towards her ice cream with a set of raised eyebrows. “Uh, no, uh, Cady and Aaron didn’t pick up any more, so it’s just whatever’s left from last week.”

That seemed to satisfy Regina who shuffled off to the freezer and rummaged around.

Janis focused back on the sink and trying to scrub the sticky green stuff off her leg. She and Regina had spent minimal, if any time, together since the Spring Fling. Regina had been nice? Sort of, kind of, Janis wasn’t really sure.

“Ugh, gross, she’s out of mint chip.”

“Oh, yeah, I think I got the last of it.” Janis glanced over at Regina, who had the same pout on that she had when they were 10 and couldn’t win the big bunny at the state fair. “Go complain to Cady, she’s the one who didn’t get any more ice cream.”

Regina let out a long exhale and returned to the freezer.

Janis stifled a smile and went back to scrubbing at her leg.

And then there was a wall of pink in front of her. Janis glanced up to find Regina standing in front of her, an odd look in her eyes with an emotion Janis couldn’t quite place. Janis slowly straightened up until her eyes were level with Regina’s nose.

Before Janis could say anything, Regina moved forward and pressed her lips to Janis’s.

Unlike the last time they had kissed at a sleepover in 8th grade when Regina had been nervous about her first slow dance and the fact she had never kissed a boy, this was more than just a quick press of the lips.

Regina cupped the back of Janis’s head, gently tugging on her hair. She slowly sucked on Janis’s bottom lip, drawing out a low moan. As Regina’s tongue slipped into her mouth, Janis was vaguely aware of the sound of the ice cream hitting the floor.  

Stars popped behind Janis’s eyes and then Regina moved away.

Janis blinked her eyes open, finding Regina only a few inches away.

“What the fuck, ‘Gina?” She choked out, stumbling backwards.

“What? I just wanted a taste,” said Regina with a smirk. She left with a kiss on the corner of Janis’s mouth and then sauntered back out to the pool.

“Holy fuck,” Janis let out a choked laugh, leaning against the counter. “What the fuck just happened?”

xx

RG [11:09 PM]: Is your room the same one it’s always been?

JS [11:09 PM]: ????

RG [11:10 PM]: Janis, answer the question

JS [11:11 PM]: yes … but ur being weird

RG [11:12 PM]: Check your window.

RG [11:12 PM]: The other one

xx

Janis twisted around to her other window, the one that looked out onto the big oak tree and the tree house her dad had never finished. And sure as fuck, there was Regina fucking George in all of her pink sweat suited glory.

And she was throwing fucking pebbles at Janis’s window.

Janis wrenched the window open and called out, “What in the everloving fuck are you doing, Regina?”

“I’m being romantic. Do you think that branch will still hold my weight?”

She motioned towards the branch that practically hit the side of the house. She and Regina had figured out at about age nine that they could come and go as they pleased by crawling out on the branch to the half finished tree house. Until, that is, they both fell out and broke their right wrists.

“Are you stupid?” Janis hissed out, her voice carrying on the summer air. “You haven’t done that in ages. Come through the front door like a normal person.”

“Aren’t your parents home?”

“Nah, my step-dad’s on a business trip and my mom’s got the night shift at the hospital. C’mon, I’ll let you in.” She stared out at Regina for a moment before turning away, a fondness seeping through her. She hesitated in front of a mirror and tucked her hair behind her ear before shaking her head. “Grow up, Sarkisian.”

She bounded down the stairs, the lightness she had been feeling since May carrying her.

And there, sure enough, on her front porch was Regina, looking unusually unsure of herself.

“Hey,” breathed out Janis.

“Hey.”

“Wanna come in?” Janis stepped aside to let Regina in. Regina stopped as soon as she got into the hallway, staring around the room. “So… should we talk about what happened earli-” Janis was cut off by Regina kissing her fiercely. After what felt like a wonderful eternity, Regina pulled back, letting Janis finish, “-er. Or, we can just do that.”

“Sorry, I don’t mean to keep jumping you, but once I started, I-”

“Couldn’t stop.” Janis smiled at Regina, tugging Regina back to her. As they kissed, Janis pushed Regina back until her back hit the wall. Regina let out a yelp and stiffened against Janis. “Oh fuck, ‘Gina, I’m sorry, shit, fuck, I’m an idiot.”

“You talk too much, Jan.” Regina flipped their position so Janis was the one pressed against the wall. Regina kissed her again as Janis let out a moan. Janis nipped at Regina’s lip as one of Regina’s hands slid until her sleep shirt. Janis moved down to Regina’s neck, pressing open mouthed kisses to Regina’s neck until she found a sensitive spot near her ear.

“Don’t suppose you wanna take this upstairs?” Janis ended the sentence on a high note as Regina’s other hand pinched her ass. “I’m taking that as a yes.”

Janis led Regina back up to her bedroom, glancing over her shoulder every few times as if to check that Regina was still there. She was still there with bruised lips and dark eyes fixed on Janis, or more specifically, Janis’s ass.

Once they reached Janis’s room, she was seized by nerves and doubt until Regina grabbed her hand.

“We don’t have to do this, Jan. Not if you aren’t sure.”

“You know, ‘Gina, I think I want a taste at the very least.”

[takerfoxx]

RD Walpurgis Nights 7: Part 4

Ophelia sucked in sharply through her teeth. “Okay, um. Well, that’s really good advice and all, but I’m guessing things didn’t turn out well.”

“No,” Homulilly said, shaking her head. “It was a disaster.”

…

Three days ago…

“I’m so glad you decided to come,” Gretchen said happily as she and Homulilly walked hand-in-hand through the FIB’s schoolhouse. “You’ll love it, I promise!”

Homulilly smiled reassuringly, but she was gnawing the insides of her cheeks.

It was early evening, and they had just gotten out from dinner. Normally this would be when the two of them would return to their dorm to work on homework, relax, read, watch holovids, or just goof off, but Gretchen still had a few more meetings to attend with the planning committee for the festival, and Homulilly would be damned if she spent another night alone, much less leave Gretchen alone around Mitty without supervision.

Surprisingly, the committee had no issue with letting Homulilly tag along. She had expected Mitty at least to raise some kind of protest, but she apparently had been fine with it.

Maybe she had other things to worry about. Maybe she liked the competition. Or maybe…

Homulilly’s smile began to get a little strained.

…maybe she didn’t see Homulilly as competition at all. And why would she? She was gorgeous, while all Homulilly could manage was…cute. Maybe this was intentional. Maybe she wanted to steal Homulilly’s girl right in front of her.

Well, Homulilly for one was not going to taking that lying down. She was wearing a silky black dress that came down to just before her knees, and black stockings that extended just above them, leaving a few centimeters of skin in between. Every knot and tangle had been combed out of her hair and it now practically shined, every petal on her spider-lily was perfectly curled, and she had had one of the caretakers help her a few touches of makeup.

Gretchen, it should be noted, had just been confused when she saw how much Homulilly had made herself up, and was just wearing a frilly pink blouse, a white hooded jacket, and shorts. Still, she had been very complimentary regardless.

The planning committee had their meetings in the big auditorium where the FIB put on plays, rallies, and other school events. Homulilly imagined several professional looking people sitting politely in the first few rows, facing the stage, where the president was standing at the podium giving a presentation, probably one with holographic flowcharts or something.

As they neared the auditorium, Homulilly reflexively headed for the big double-door, but Gretchen passed right past them to head for the smaller side-door instead, the one near the stage that let staff get in and out without disrupting whatever was going on.

Homulilly got another surprise when they entered the room. Given that class sizes depended on girls dying and randomly ending up in Freehaven, it was only about twice the size of one of the classrooms. Still, it was one of the larger rooms in the FIB, and Homulilly had expected to see the members of the planning committee filling the seats, dutifully listening as the president addressed them from the stage.

Instead, the stage was empty, almost all the chairs were folded up and stacked along the walls, and only four girls were hanging out near the back. There was a plastic table set up with a variety of snacks and a keg of punch set up, and a few chairs were set up in a disorganized ring. Only one of the girls was actually sitting normally, while another had her chair backwards and was leaning over its back while the third was lounging her legs across three chairs while the fourth was at the table helping herself to the snacks.

Mitty was nowhere to be seen.

Homulilly hesitated. Her earlier conviction that she was headed to war and confidence to win suddenly started to dry up, and she felt very overdressed. The committee was a third of the size she was expecting, and like Gretchen, everyone else wore comfortable clothes and was chatting casually.

As Homulilly hung back, Gretchen bolted ahead toward the group. “Hey, guys!” she said cheerfully. “This is my girlfriend, Homulilly. She was getting bored without me and wanted to tag along!” She pointed to the girl sitting normally, who was Middle-Eastern, short of stature, and had her long, bright yellow hair tied back. “This is Yasmin Asfour, our president.”

“Hi,” Yasmin said with a shy wave.

Gretchen then turned to the girl reclining across three chairs, who was Caucasian, slightly overweight, and had short blue hair that looked like it curled naturally.

“That’s Patricia Sanders, the vice-president!”

“Hi,” said Patricia said.

“That’s Jada Avidan, the secretary,” Gretchen said, indicating the girl helping herself to snacks. An olive-skinned Jewish girl with wavy pink hair, Jada merely gave a quick half-salute over her shoulder and went back to what she was doing.

“And that’s Madeline, the treasurer,” Gretchen said as she pointed out the girl with the backwards chair. A black girl with bright red hair, she was a witch with arms and legs shaped like Corinthian columns. At her introduction, she just nodded and went back to talking to Vivian.

“Um, hello,” Homulilly said. “I, uh, hope I’m not intruding.” Then she remembered that she was supposed to look cool and confident and gave herself a mental kick.

“Where’s Mitty?” Gretchen asked as she grabbed a pair of chairs for her and Homulilly and sat down, her legs spreading in all directions.

Hopefully sick, Homulilly thought as she took her seat next to Gretchen. Or in jail. Or expelled. Or-

“Here,” said the familiar voice, dashing Homulilly’s hopes. It came from the far end of the room. There, a brown couch was facing the wall, with Mitty’s bright orange hair hanging out over one armrest and her bare feet dangling over the other. “Howdy.”

Then her feet disappeared, her knees appeared over the top of the cushions, and she kipped up, leaping fully off the couch to land on her feet on the floor. She was just wearing a pair of sweatpants and midriff exposing tee-shirt that bore the logo of some band that Homulilly had never heard of. Her hair was tied back in a messy ponytail and she wore no makeup.

“Okey-doke,” Mitty said as she picked up a folded chair and approached the small group. “Jalaga should be back in a bit, and we can get started. Hey, Homulilly. Glad you could make it.” Then she saw what Homulilly was wearing and her eyes went wide.

“Damn,” she said. She tossed the chair at the chair, giving it a weird twist of her wrist as she did. It somehow unfolded as it spun through the air and landed perfectly on all four legs, facing the rest of the group, letting her sit down. “Where’s the party? Can I come?”

Homulilly had no idea how to respond to that.

Right about then she heard the big double-doors opening behind them, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps. “Hey, Jalaga!” Jada called. “Right on time!”

That was when Madeline suddenly looked worried. She leaned over and said to Gretchen in a low voice, “Uh-oh. Hey, Gretchen? You warned your girlfriend about Jalaga, right?”

Gretchen’s eyes went wide.

Warn? Warn her about what? Homulilly instinctively turned in her chair to see what the problem was.

“Lilly-chan, wait,” Gretchen said grabbing her by the arm. “Maybe you shouldn’t-”

“Hey, everyone!” said a deep, booming voice, one that was definitely not human. “I got the rest of the flags, so we should be ready to-”

Homulilly finished turning fully in her seat. Then her face lost what little color it had and with a loud shriek she fell backward to the floor, nearly taking Gretchen with her.

Jalaga was a vaskergoros, all fur-covered muscle, sharp tusks, and four massive arms. Not a tall one, as such things were judged, but even at her three-and-a-half meters, she had to stoop to keep her head from scraping the ceiling.

That in itself would have been a surprise, but not a shock. Vaskergoros were not common in Freehaven, but Homulilly had seen enough of them to at least get sort of used to their size and fearsome appearances. However, this particular vaskergoros differed greatly from the ones she had seen in one significant regard: namely, she was a witch. A witch whose entire chest, shoulders, arms, and head were completely skeletal, and her living skull of a head levitated over the thick bones of her shoulders in a ball of green flame.

At Homulilly’s reaction, Jalaga froze in place and stared down at her. “Oh,” she said, her voice emanating as much from her fleshless chest as it did her mouth. “I…didn’t know we had someone new. Sorry for scaring you.”

Trembling like hairless rat freezing to death, Homulilly could do nothing but remain right where she was and gape up at the demonic visage staring down at her.

A very long silence passed, and then Jalaga said, “Oh. Hey! You got the same kind of arms I do! Neat.”

More silence. Someone coughed.

Jalaga glanced around and tried again. “So…do your elbow joints grind together whenever you try to reach around and scratch your back? Because mine do, and it is just the worst.”

Still no answer.

Jalaga slowly breathed out, no mean feat for someone who should not even be capable of the act. “So, is she going to be okay?” she asked the others as she pointed down at the cowering Homulilly. “Because this is getting really uncomfortable.”

…

Now…

“Ouch,” Ophelia said with a wince. “Ouch.

“Yeah,” Homulilly said with a sniff. Just reliving the memory was making her turn pink. “It was Dr. Antercateract all over again.”

“Dr…Oh, right. Oktavia’s tentacled friend. Um, would I be correct in assuming that this was one of those nights where literally everything that could go wrong did go wrong?”

Homulilly sighed. “Yeah,” she said. “Absolutely.”

…

Then…

Once everyone was finally all circled up, Yasmin cleared her throat, drawing everyone’s attention. “All right, all right, meet and greet’s over. Now, we need to-”

Homulilly, who had been itching for this moment, abruptly raised her hand.

“-and, ah, yes?”

Almost immediately Homulilly felt the urge to apologize for the interruption and say it was nothing, anything to get all the eyes now focused on her to turn anywhere else. Even the look that Gretchen was shooting her was more confused than supportive.

However, it was too late to back down now. “Hi. Um, sorry, I know I’m not really part of the committee, but…I did have some ideas I wanted to, you know, throw out there.”

Homulilly knew that the others probably wouldn’t be expecting her to contribute, but she wanted to at least justify her being there. Plus, given her recent gaff, she hoped that by offering up something they would be more quick to accept her.

However, it wasn’t interest in what she had to say that they were displaying, nor was it hostility for daring to speak up. Rather, they all just looked completely bewildered. Even Jalaga managed to convey an expression of total bemusement on her fleshless features.

Well, she had gone this far, and it was too late to pull out. Clearing her throat and hoping that her nervousness wasn’t showing in her voice, Homulilly pressed on. “I, uh, looked up the stuff you guys did the last few years, and noticed that there was, like, a dance theme going on, and, and how you’d do a dance from a different part of…” For a brief moment, Homulilly completely forgot the name of the planet they had lived on when they had all been alive, and nearly blanked out. “Er, th-the world of the living. So…I was thinking that you could…continue that, and this year you could…”

Madeline then cleared her throat, bringing Homulilly to a sudden stop. “Um, Homulilly? The festival is right around the corner. We’re pretty far past the brainstorming stage. In fact, most of our part’s already set up. We were just going to finish what we’ve got left and make sure everyone’s ready.” There was a pause, and then she added, “And this year’s theme is the Samba.”

“Oh,” Homulilly said as she slowly sank back into her chair. “Sorry.”

Gretchen gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

Yet another beat passed, and then Mitty said, “Still…it’s good that you wanted to help out. So…maybe you could join the committee next year, yeah?”

Homulilly didn’t trust herself to respond. Mitty…was trying to comfort her, to make her feel better. Mitty felt sorry for her! Gretchen felt sorry for her! They all felt sorry for her, at least the ones that weren’t annoyed by the interruption! Homulilly had shown up hoping to impress and show Mitty up, but instead she had embarrassed herself so badly that Mitty was taking pity on her!

And the worst of it is that it was all Homulilly’s fault. Of course they wouldn’t need any more ideas; of course they would be almost done! Why hadn’t she known that? It was obvious! But she had been so caught up in the idea of going to war with Mitty that she had completely failed to think logically and instead had jumped at every dumb idea that had crossed her mind.

Yasmin had started talking again, picking up where she had left off, no doubt in part to steer attention away from Homulilly’s latest screw-up. Homulilly planted her hands on her knees in hopes that it would keep them from shaking, but she couldn’t stop her fingers from curling, crinkling the fabric of her skirt. She had started the evening primed and ready to go to war, but now it was herself that she wanted to smack.

…

Now…

“Wow,” Ophelia said. “Okay then.”

Homulilly was already red in the face due to what had recently gone down, but reliving the previous night’s humiliations darkening the color into purple. “I was an idiot,” she mumbled. “I was such an idiot.”

Ophelia pulled out another candy bar (how many of those did she keep on her?), slowly unwrapped it, took a contemplative bite, chewed for a bit, swallowed, and said, “If I tried to make you feel better, would it make it worse?”

“Yes.”

“Duly noted. So…what happened next?”

…

Then…

The actual meeting part had been mercifully brief, and within minutes everyone headed outside to get to work. Homulilly sulkily followed, mentally kicking herself every step of the way for every single decision she had made in the last twenty-four hours.

Sure enough, everything was practically done. The dance circle was an octagonal wooden stage surrounded by a white lattice wall, with a big opening on one side. All that was really left was to put up the last few decorations.

Once outside, everyone quickly dispersed to their tasks. Nobody said anything to Homulilly, so she sat down on a bench to watch as the last bits of light-hanging and sign-painting was taken care of.

The first thing she noticed was that Mitty and Gretchen weren’t working anywhere near each other, which was a relief. Or maybe it wasn’t. Homulilly had half-expected for Mitty to take advantage of Homulilly’s public humiliation to swoop in for the kill, but instead the two were barely interacting. Maybe she felt so sorry for her rival that she had decided to back off for the time being, out of pity.

Or, as Homulilly bitterly reflected was most likely the case, she didn’t consider Homulilly to be any kind of rival and saw no need to capitalize.

At the moment, Mitty was hanging out near the FIB’s wall, talking to Madeline. Homulilly watched as the two chatted and laughed, playfully exchanging barbs. Homulilly frowned. Come to think of it, Mitty was acting much the same around Madeline as she had with Gretchen. What was going on? Was she trying to seduce everyone on the planning committee?

Then, right there in front of everyone, Mitty reached down and grabbed a big handful of Madeline’s butt.

Homulilly’s jaw dropped at the boldness. Well, sure, she was used to Ophelia and Oktavia’s open appreciation of any cute girl that walked by, but they at least kept their hands and comments between the two of them. This was a whole new level of brazen!

“Sexual harassment!” Madeline called out, laughing. “Sexual harassment!”

“Hey, Mitty!” Patricia called over from where she was working. “Wait until after we’re done before you start molesting people!”

Confused, Homulilly just shook her head. Okay, maybe she was worried over nothing. Maybe that was just how Mitty was with everyone.

Still laughing, Mitty grabbed up the banner she was to put up and a bucket of tools and turned toward the wall. Homulilly expected her to leap or run her way to the top like everyone else, but instead she lifted her right leg, planted her foot against the side of the wall, lifted her left leg, and then proceeded to casually walk all the way to the top, her body perpendicular to the ground.

Despite the dark cloud that was hanging over her, Homulilly couldn’t help but leap to her feet and blurt out, “She can walk on walls?”

Though there was a fair distance between her and the apparent human spider, it was close enough for Mitty to hear, and she turned her head to smirk down at the stunned girl. “Hell yeah, I can walk on walls! Used to need to summon up my uniform boots to do it, but since that ain’t happening anymore, now I can do it whenever!”

“You know, I never got that,” Jada remarked from where she was working over at the stage itself. “We can still summon up our old weapons, right? So how come we can’t get our uniforms back?”

“Who the hell knows?” Mitty said with a shrug. “But hey, given the choice, I’d go with ol’ Sexy here.” She shifted the banner under her armpit, moved the bucket over to her left hand, and held out her right. There was a flash, and then a long green staff with a triangular yellow crystal at both ends was in her hand. She spun it around one-handed like a baton and then jammed it against the side of the building. The crystal seemed to melt and mold itself against the wall and the whole pole stuck.

Hanging the bucket on the pole, Mitty knelt down on the wall to get to work.

Homulilly thought back to her visits to the Ladoga house, where Ophelia, Charlotte, Oktavia, and Candeloro had their old weapons hanging over the fireplace, as they had managed to hold onto them when making their escape from Dead Drop City. She wished that she and Gretchen had had the presence of mind to do the same, but they hadn’t even seen theirs. Presumably they were still there, within that terrible clock tower. Just another thing Puella Magi had over witches.

“Lilly-chan!”

Homulilly turned to see Gretchen waving over to her. The pink-haired witch was hanging flags on the wooden latticework wall that surrounded the courtyard. She was making good time too, as she had her nest of wire-legs stretched all the way across the wall, each one plucking up flags to tie them into place in an impressive display of multitasking. It made her look like an incredibly cute pagan god of legend.

“Come on! You can work with me!”

Normally Homulilly would have jumped at the chance, but now all she could do was wonder why Gretchen even needed the help, as she was handily doing the work of at least six people with little effort.

It’s because she feels sorry for me. I mean, look at me, sitting by myself and looking pathetic.

Still, at least it was something to do, and maybe by being helpful Homulilly could make up for her earlier slipups. Sighing, she got up and walked over to where Gretchen was working.

Gretchen reached down with several of her legs and twisted them around to form a pair of step-ups. “C’mon,” she said. “I’ll give you a boost!”

Homulilly glanced over to where Mitty was still crouched on the side of the building, half-singing and half-humming a pretty raunchy hip-hop song. “No, it’s okay. I got it,” she said.

Gretchen blinked. “Are you sure? Because I-”

Homulilly took a few steps back, calculated her path, and bolted toward one of the columns. Then, just like she had done a hundred times to reach the rooftop pathways of Freehaven, she leapt up.

At first everything went as planned, and Homulilly was able clear most of the column’s length with a single bound. However, as she did so, she realized her mistake: sure, the walls she was used to scaling were far higher, but they also included a series of handholds and footholds, whereas the column had nothing for her to hold onto.

As Homulilly felt her ascent start to slow and her descent starting to take hold, she desperately braced her feet against the side of the column and pushed up. It wasn’t much, but it gave her enough momentum to seize onto the top of the beam with both hands. Then, before anyone could notice her near-mishap, she hauled herself up.

Straddling the beam with her legs, she shot Gretchen what she hoped was a confident smile. “See?” she said. “Nothing to it.”

Then she saw that Gretchen had several of her legs reared up around her like a startled octopus, no doubt at the ready to catch Homulilly if she fell. “Oh,” she said, looking genuinely surprised. Then she grinned and lowered her legs. “Cool! All right, let me show you what we need to do.”

Homulilly’s smile faltered. Wait, did she really think that Homulilly wasn’t going to make it?

Then she heard a small chuckle. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that Mitty was shaking her head as she snickered. There was no doubt about it; she had seen how close Homulilly had come to falling.

Wincing, Homulilly turned away and instead focused on helping Gretchen with the flags.

The two worked in silence for a bit, which for them was unusual. Homulilly honestly found it hard to concentrate on what she was supposed to be doing, as her mind kept racing to come up with something to break the silence, anything they could talk about that wouldn’t betray the nerves she was feeling.

Then Gretchen said, “Um, Lilly-chan? Can I ask you something?”

The last time Gretchen had ventured that kind of question in that tone, it had led to their first kiss. But given recent events, Homulilly wasn’t exactly optimistic that the subject matter was going to be anything nearly as positive. Forcing what she hoped was a warm smile, Homulilly said, “Sure!”

True enough, Gretchen’s question was not one that Homulilly really wanted to answer. “Um, are you…okay? Because you’ve been acting very weird lately.”

Though she wasn’t much for swearing, all the time spent with Cheese the parrot had given Homulilly a large and filthy vocabulary to work with should ever the need arise. And though she said none of the words out loud, mentally she ran through most of them in seconds.

Fighting to keep her panic from her face but knowing that she was failing miserably, Homulilly stammered out, “Uh…wh-what do you mean?”

Gretchen was many things, but an idiot was not one of them. She just gave Homulilly the look, obviously not fooled in the slightest.

Damn. Damn, damn, damn. What was Homulilly supposed to do? She couldn’t come out with the truth, which in itself just felt so completely wrong, as Gretchen was the one person she could always be honest with. But she couldn’t just tell the truth and say that she was worried that Gretchen might leave her one day.

Think, Homulilly. Think! There had to be something she could say, had to be something she could say to allay Gretchen’s concerns.

And then, in a flash of inspiration, she had it.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and fortunately did not have to fake it. “I know, it’s just…you know, after the museum trip, everything’s just been feeling like it’s upside-down, and…” She sighed, and said again, “I’m sorry.”

The annoyance in Gretchen’s eyes softened, to be replaced with sympathy. “Oh, Lilly-chan.” Then she suddenly lunged forward to seize Homulilly in a tight embrace.

Homulilly, who had not been expecting that reaction, almost went stiff with surprise, but thankfully her reflexes took over and she immediately returned the gesture, wrapping her arms around Gretchen in return.

Her face close to Homulilly’s ear, Gretchen whispered, “Lilly-chan, I know things are scary right now, but you don’t have to worry! You heard what they said: so long as we stick together, we’ll be all right.”

That was just what Homulilly needed to hear. She sighed, letting the tension in her shoulders recede a little. Maybe she had been a little silly. Maybe she had let Annabelle Lee’s words get to her. But everything was going to be fine, right?

Then Gretchen said, “That’s why you don’t need to act cool for me, okay? Just be yourself. That’s all I want.”

Normally Homulilly would have been just fine with that, but something about the way Gretchen said that sounded sour to her ears. “Don’t need to act cool”? So…Gretchen didn’t think she was cool?

Well, granted, Homulilly herself didn’t think that she was cool, but now she was starting to realize just how cool everyone in her life was. Ophelia was really cool, Oktavia was also really cool, and Charlotte was pretty cool herself, with their brash personalities, funny quirks, and the confidence with which they did everything. Even Candeloro, who was the least aggressive and most feminine of the group, was also cool in her own way. And Gretchen, who was small, cute, and really pink, seemed to have no difficulty endearing herself to the cool people and making friends with them.

In fact, now that Homulilly thought about it, back when they had first met all of their friends, Ophelia had first approached her because Cheese had scared her and Ophelia had wanted to cheer her up, and it had taken a lot of coaxing to just get Homulilly to talk to her. Whereas Gretchen had been the one to approach Oktavia and strike up a conversation.

And then there was Mitty.

Everywhere she went, Gretchen just kept fitting in with cool people, while Homulilly just seemed to be tagging along for the ride. It had even been Gretchen that had rescued herself from the torturous situation she had found herself in and saved Homulilly from the clock tower.

Gretchen said that she loved her with all of her heart, and Homulilly believed her. But with all the talk she had been hearing lately about soul resonance, how much of that was because they had joined together as a Walpurgisnacht, and how much would have happened anyway? Did they even like each other in the old life? Were they even friends?

Homulilly had an image flash through her head, that of what their old Puella Magi team might have been like, where the past-selves of Gretchen, Ophelia, Oktavia, Candeloro, and…maybe Charlotte (they had never really worked out why she didn’t share the same reflexive recognition as the others) risked their lives to protect the city and looked really cool doing it. And in the back was Homulilly, always holding the others back, always coming up short, always screwing up and making things worse.

Always letting everyone down.

And that was her now. The others kept her around, sure. And she had no doubt that they liked her. But how much of that was out of pity? For all she knew, in their former life she had been the black sheep of the group, the one that the rest just kept around for the sake of having as much firepower as possible.

All of this passed through Homulilly’s mind in just a few seconds, but she couldn’t let Gretchen know. So she just forced everything she was feeling and thinking from her face and voice and said, “Okay. I’m sorry. Thank you.”

They parted then, though Gretchen kept her hand on Homulilly’s shoulder.

“Just hold on,” she said. “We’ll be fine.”

Homulilly nodded and turned in her seat…

…only to just then remember that she was seating on a wooden beam fifteen feet in the air.

She felt her balance leave almost immediately. She tried to correct herself, but somehow her stupid skirt had gotten twisted under her and that just threw her off all the more. She then tried to grab onto the beam for support, but somehow her hand fell onto the bucket of flags that was sitting right behind her.

The bucket fell, and Homulilly slipped right along with it.

She let out a loud yelp as she went horizontal, headed for what promised to be a very painful impact on the wooden stage below.

And then she stopped.

A moment later she heard the bucket clatter against the ground.

Blinking in surprise, Homulilly looked around to try to get some sense of what had happened. She was still horizontal, hanging perpendicular to the wooden beam, one leg still thrown across it. But in defiance of gravity itself, she was floating in midair.

Then she felt the wire-thin bindings around her waist and arms.

Gretchen had lashed out with four of her legs, snatching her before she could fall and keeping her in place. Looking concerned, she slowly maneuvered Homulilly back into place. “All you all right?” she said.

Though her illusionary heartbeat was still pounding in her ears, Homulilly managed a nod. Whew, that had been a close one.

And then she heard Yasmin say from down below, “Um, you guys okay up there?”

Homulilly turned, slowly and carefully, to look. Everyone had stopped what they were doing and were all staring at the pair.

Gretchen waved to them. “We’re fine!” she said. “Just a little slip. Don’t worry!”

Homulilly’s eyes swept over the group, seeing the looks of pity and disappointment.

Then she looked up. Mitty was now standing on the roof of the FIB building, far above them, her head bowed with one hand pressing against her forehead. She slowly shook her head, in clear disbelief that the klutz had done it again.

…

Now…

“Well?” Homulilly said.

“Well what?” said Ophelia.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?”

Ophelia leaned back to recline across the wall on her elbows. She pushed her hat back and said, “Got plenty to say, but I think I’m gonna wait until you’re done before I say it.”

Homulilly sighed.

“Well?” Ophelia said, rolling her wrist to urge her on. “Keep it going.”

…

Then…

At the start of the night, Homulilly had been confidently striding forward with her shoulders straight, her head held high, and ready to prove herself to be just as cool as Mitty.

Now she no longer cared about any of that. She slumped into her seat next to Gretchen, head down, eyes moodily studying how the tiny marshmallows bobbed around in the steamy brown swamp of her hot chocolate.

At long last the night had come to an end, and everyone had decided to go hang out at the FIB’s all-hours coffee shop. Homulilly had frankly would have preferred to not to, but she was in such a bad mood by then that she couldn’t even muster up enough energy to say otherwise, so she had just said nothing and slouched after everyone.

Since Jalaga was still with them and couldn’t exactly come inside, they were all sitting in the outside area in a circle around a firepit, nursing their drinks and pastries and chatting away. It seemed that the others had decided to just ignore Gretchen’s moody and kind of embarrassing girlfriend and just act like she wasn’t there.

Some things never changed.

Though she wasn’t participating in the slightest with the conversation, bits were drifting past her consciousness. Apparently they were talking the museum trip.

“It was just such a trip, you know?” Mitty was saying, referring to their excursion to the museum the day before. Unlike Homulilly, she was wholly at ease, relaxing with one leg up over the armrest and the other stretched out onto the edge of the firepit. And why wouldn’t she be? She wasn’t the one that had made a fool of herself in front of everyone. “I mean, it’s one thing to read about all that stuff, see the pictures, watch the videos…er, holos, but it’s another to like jump into someone’s freaking memories.”

“Yeah, I remember going through the same thing last year,” Jada said as she shook her head. “Only worse. I hadn’t even heard of the Void Walkers before then.”

“Seems kind of scummy, if you ask me,” said Madeline. “I mean, to drop that on us right before the festival. Kinda kills the mood, right?”

“Maybe they’re hoping it’ll cheer us up,” Jada said.

“It didn’t for me.”

“Okay, but you know what I don’t get?” Mitty said. “See, the part I was really looking forward was meeting Astrid. Because she’s supposed to be one of the only witches to turn back into, uh, into a Puella Magi, right? And if we were going to see her memories…”

“You thought you would get to see how it happened,” Patricia said.

“Yeah, pretty much. Except no, that’s when they decided to show us her girlfriend’s memories of that moment. And when I looked it up to find out why, it turns out that it’s because there wasn’t any memories to show. Like, they actually scanned her brain and found this great big blank spot.” Mitty shrugged. “So…who the hell knows what happened?”

“We don’t have brains anymore, dumbass,” Jada said.

Mitty flicked a straw at her. “Well, maybe you don’t. ‘Sides, you know what I meant.”

“It was the Ideal Witches,” Jalaga said in a low voice. The flaming vaskergoros witch was sitting on the ground with her legs crossed and her arms folded in her lap. She was already kind of eye-catching like that, but that pronouncement brought all attention to her.

A strange change had suddenly come over the group. Despite the warmness of the night, Homulilly felt a strange shiver run down her back. Something about the way Jalaga drew her full attention. “I’m sorry, the what now?” she said.

Mitty shot her a look. “Seriously, you’ve never heard of the Ideal Witches?”

“Um, I haven’t either,” Gretchen said as she hesitantly raised her hand. “What are they?”

“Not everyone reads as much as you, Mitty,” Yasmin said.

Jalaga shrugged. “Still. Given that you’re all on the planning committee for the Cultural Exchange Festival, I’d expect you all to know a little more about cultures outside of Freehaven.”

“Earth cultures, and other species’ cultures, not afterlife cultures,” Yasmin retorted.

“Even so.”

A silence fell over the group. Though they were sitting in a well-like plaza in a thriving metropolis, Homulilly suddenly felt like they were really out by themselves in the wilderness, gathered together around a crackling fire, the only thing holding the darkness at bay. Certainly Jalaga’s demonic visage added to the effect.

Then Gretchen tried again. “So…what are they?”

Jalaga didn’t answer right away. She just stared into the firepit, seemingly lost in thought. and when she did speak, she didn’t even seem to be speaking to them at all. “The Ideal Witches. Seven beings of unfathomable power. Some say that they were once a Walpurgisnacht made up of thousands of souls, but somehow only split into seven pieces. Others say that they each were a Walpurgisnacht that somehow remained whole upon death, keeping all the souls that they had absorbed. But they’re out there, out in the wild, untamed territories, luring the lost and unwary into their realms, entrapping them and feeding off their souls forever.

“It is said that each one presides over a separate aspect of our lives here, and our fates are steered by their wills. There is Mephisto, the human witch of Dreams. Nefflin, the andalite witch of Love. Zuffren, the vekoo witch of Desires. Kuh’sur’ri, the ai’jurrik’kai witch of Hate. Vendrel, the Nesk witch of Despair. Folc, the vaskergoros witch of Deception. And Irn, the kotoss interdrent witch of Determination. They are said to test those that they find interesting, to see if they’re worthy of receiving their blessing. And those who pass are granted their heart’s desire, while those who fail are added to their collection of souls.”

“So…like a reverse Incubator then?” Madeline said.

“Not a bad way of looking at it. Though with Incubators you got your wish and lost your soul. With the Ideal Witches it’s either/or.”

Patricia’s face screwed up in confusion. “And people believe in all this?”

“We go to school with a girl who can take her head off and dunk it like a basketball,” Mitty retorted. “Also, we’re dead and still sipping hot chocolate with a flaming alien. And I can walk on walls. How is any of that less weird?”

“Technically from my viewpoint, you all are the aliens,” Jalaga said good-naturedly.

“Yeah, I guess you have a point,” Patricia sighed. “Hell, if they are real, I kinda hope they’d visit me and give me some idea of what to do after graduating.”

“That brings up a good point,” Madeline said. “What do you guys want to do? Because I keep changing my mind.”

“…I’m honestly not sure anymore,” Mitty said. “I mean, I was going to go into professional dancing, but apparently you got to be something spectacular to compete out there, given what everyone can do, and I guess it doesn’t have the same mileage that it used to. So maybe I’ll just keep doing it as a hobby.”

“I know what you mean,” Gretchen said. “Our friend Ophelia-chan is an amazing dancer, but she still works at the power plant.”

Mitty stiffened. “Wait, wait, wait, hold up. Ophelia? Like, the bald girl who always wears red? That Ophelia?”

“You know her?”

“Know her? Of course I know her, every dancer in the city knows her! She’s great! She trains at the studio where my dance class is, and even subbed in on a couple classes!” Mitty shook her head. “And you’re friends with her?”

Now Homulilly interest was piqued enough to look up. After all, she had suddenly found something that she had that Mitty could be envious of. “Um, yeah. We go hang out at her place all the time.”

Sure enough, Mitty looked downright stunned. “Wow. Wow. So you get to go behind the scenes and everything. Hey, is it true that she has a private studio in her basement, just for her?”

“Er, no?” Gretchen shrugged. “Not that we’ve seen.”

“If she did, why would she be training at your studio?” Homulilly added.

Mitty pursed her lips, and Homulilly realized that she had sounded a little flippant.

However, Mitty didn’t press the issue. “I guess you have a point,” she said with a shrug. “But you have seen her dance battle?”

Gretchen nodded. “A couple times. That one time they took us to Sardi’s Land of Miracles-”

Mitty’s jaw dropped. “Ophelia was the one to take you to Sardi’s?”

“Well, her and the rest of our friends, anyway,” Gretchen said with a shrug. “Anyway, they had this big tent with a…a dance battle thing going on, and Ophelia took on this vaskergoros called, uh…”

“Busker?!” Now Mitty’s eyes were practically popping from their sockets. You saw an Ophelia vs. Busker dance-off at Sardi’s Land of Miracles?! Why the hell didn’t you ever tell me?!”

“…you, uh, never asked.”

“But you know Busker, right?” Mitty said, turning to Jalaga. “She’s like this famous top-boxer, does a lot of crazy stuff with water magic?”

Jalaga somehow managed to convey a look of befuddlement despite not even having much in the way of a face. “Er, no?”

“Seriously? How could you not have heard of Busker?!”

Two flaming, skeletal shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Not every vaskergoros knows each other. Besides, I don’t follow top-boxing.”

Mitty sighed in disappointment. “Aw, Jesus Christ. Okay, who won?”

“Busker, I think,” Gretchen said. “They were tied up until then.”

“So it was the third one.”

Jada stared at her blankly. “How many of these things were there?”

“Five so far. Ophelia’s in the lead, so there’s probably going to be another before too long.” Mitty sighed. “I hope I can find out where the next one’s happening in time to clear my schedule. I have to see one before they call it quits.”

“You think you’ll be up to challenging them one day?” Madeline asked.

Mitty snorted. “I wish. I mean, I’m good, but I’m not that good. Well, yet.”

“Well, I mean, it’s not like you have to rush,” Vivian said. “You have pretty much forever to practice.”

Gretchen made a face. “I guess…”

“And there’s no lack of choices,” Mitty added. “I mean, you don’t have to stay in Freehaven. You could go to Cloudbreak, or Marsters, or Steel City, or the Music Box, or like a gazillion other places.”

“How is it that you already know so much about…everything?” Yasmin asked.

Mitty stared at her in bewilderment. “Everything?”

Yasmin shrugged. “You already knew everything about Reibey and Oblivion, you know all about these Ideal Witches. I’m starting to think we don’t even need to study, we just need to get you talking to find out everything we need to know.”

“How can I not?” Mitty said. “Seriously, we live in a magical afterlife with a bunch of cool aliens! How can you not want to find out everything about it?”

“She’s got a point,” Madeline said between sips of hot chocolate.

“I understand,” Gretchen said. “Our friend Charlotte’s the same way. I think she knows more than the teachers.”

“See?” Mitty said, gesturing toward Gretchen. “There you go. Seriously, it’s kinda weird that you don’t…” Then she cut herself off. “Hold up. Charlotte? The librarian with the pink hair and the tail?”

Homulilly sighed and slumped down deeper.

“You know her too?” Gretchen asked.

Mitty nodded. “I was going to say the same thing! I mean, the library’s the best place to find out anything, and she’s the one that’s been helping me! But I’ve never seen you guys there. How do you know her?”

“Oh!” Gretchen beamed. “Well, she and Ophelia live together, so…”

“Uh…what?” Mitty’s jaw dropped open. “I thought Ophelia was dating that mermaid with the blue hair.”

Patricia perked up. “We have a mermaid?”

“Uh, yeah, haven’t you ever been to the Magi’s Gifts Emporium?” Jada told her. “She teaches music there.”

“You know her too?”

“I’m actually kind of surprised that you don’t! But yeah, my roommate gets guitar lessons from her.”

“She is!” Gretchen said. “Dating Ophelia, I mean. But Charlotte lives with them too!”

Mitty’s brow raised in appreciation. “Really? Huh. Wow, I know Ophelia had game, but…”

“Not like that!” Gretchen said with a slight blush. “There’s four of them: Ophelia, Charlotte, Oktavia, and Candeloro. They’re a Walpurgisnacht, so they stuck together. Ophelia is with Oktavia, and Charlotte is with Candeloro.”

“Ophelia’s part of a Walpurgisnacht?” Mitty said as she rubbed her chin. “Huh, I had no idea.” Then she frowned. “Wait, who’s Candeloro?”

“Uh…you ever been to the Honey Hive?” Gretchen asked.

“The coffee shop? Over on Avenida Sevilla?”

Gretchen nodded. “Yes. She’s one of the managers there. Um, the one with golden hair and ribbons for arms?”

“Oh.” The side of Mitty’s mouth lifted in a sly grin. “Oooooh, her. Yeah, I know her.”

Homulilly sighed. Of their little group, Candeloro undeniably was blessed with the most impressive figure, so it wasn’t uncommon for her to get quite a bit of attention from passersby.

But did they all have to be so overt about it?

Gretchen nodded. “Well, that’s her. She actually does most of their baking. Her strawberry honeycakes won prizes and everything! She’s actually taking a trip to Orya’s Furnace right now for the Sweet Tooth Symp…sympuh…symphony…”

“Symposium,” Homulilly said.

“Right! That word!”

“What’s that?” Jada asked.

Mitty stared at her. “Uh…seriously? It’s a jott city that’s-”

“Not that!” Jada said with a roll of her eyes. “Of course I know about that! What’s the Sweet Tooth Symposium?”

Homulilly cut in before anyone else could. This, at least, she knew more about than everyone else. “It’s a convention. For people who make sweet stuff, like cakes, candy, chocolates, that sort of thing.”

“Gotcha,” Mitty said with a thoughtful look. “And you said she does the baking for the Honey Hive. Y’know, I’ve been over there once or twice. The cupcakes are to die for.” Which is kind of funny, seeing how I did!” She grinned, as if expecting laughter, but the others just stared at her in an uncomfortable manner. Yasmin especially looked a little annoyed. Sensing that her morbid joke hadn’t gone over well, Mitty cleared her throat and hastily moved on. “Anyway, you’re telling me that there’s this house where Freehaven’s best dancer, musician, researcher, and baker live together, and you two just…hang out with them whenever?”

There was a pause, and then Gretchen said, “Well, I never really thought about it like that.”

“We’re actually pretty sure that we all knew each other before,” Homulilly chimed in. Finally, there was something impressive that she had that Mitty didn’t! “Um, you know, when we were…alive.”

“Huh?” Mitty said, tilting her head. “I thought you were both separate Walpurgies.”

“Oh, we are!” Gretchen said. “They’re all one, and we’re another. But when we met…you know how you said that your girlfriend felt like she recognized you, even if she didn’t really know who you were?”

Mitty arched an eyebrow. “Yeah…?”

“It was the same.” She clasped her hands over her heart and smiled at the memory. “We both felt like we knew them, and they felt like they knew us. So…we figure that we were all friends, but they turned into witches together, and we turned into witches later.”

Mitty shook her head. “Wow. Two Walpurgies showing up in the same town, only a…little time apart. Your town must be a crater by now.”

Gretchen’s smile withered. “I…never really thought of it like that.”

“But if that’s true, then you two must’ve been the ones to bring them down,” Mitty pointed out. “Like I did with Bobby…er, Alyssa!”

“Um…okay!” Patricia said quickly before Homulilly’s glare could get any more fierce. “So, what you two want to be after we graduate?”

“What?” Gretchen scratched her head. “Oh, um, actually…we’re not sure yet.”

“Well, that’s fine,” Jalaga said. She reached over and stirred the embers of the firepit with one finger. “You have plenty of time.”

“That’s for goddamned sure,” Patricia said darkly. Homulilly pursed her lips but said nothing.

“Well, what do you two like to do then?” Mitty said.

“Huh?” Gretchen said.

Mitty shrugged and gestured with one hand. “You guys gotta have hobbies, right? Stuff you do in your free time. So what do you like to do?”

“Oh!” She and Homulilly exchanged a glance. “Um, well, when we’re not studying or whatever, we like talking, visiting our friends, going for walks, watching holos…”

“Yeah, but anything artsy?” Mitty pressed. “Do you paint, write, draw, garden, do pottery, weave baskets, anything like that?”

“Not everyone has go into the liberal arts, Mitty,” Jada said with a disapproving look.

“Well, yeah, but there has to be something! Come on, don’t you ever get the urge to just go out and create something?”

“I guess we’re not really the artsy types,” Gretchen said in a small voice.

“Huh,” Mitty said. “That’s weird.” She shook her head, and then smiled. “Well, that just means we gotta change that! It’s not right for you guys to be hanging out with all those geniuses and not have something to-”

“No,” Homulilly said in a soft but commanding tone.

“Huh? Why not?”

“No,” Homulilly said again. “Leave us alone.”

While all this had been going on, the others had been having small whispered conversations of their own. All of those stopped in a second, and everyone looked up to stare at Homulilly and Mitty. For her part, Mitty’s eyes had narrowed to slits.

“Hey,” she said. “Do we have a problem? Because I’m starting to feel like we have a problem.”

“Okay, no!” Jada cut in before Homulilly could respond. “Look, whatever problem you guys have, deal with it on your own time, okay?”

“I don’t have a problem,” Mitty said. “She’s the one who-”

“I said, deal with it later, okay? Because I am way too tired and stressed out to put up with this now. Got it?”

A moment passed, and then Mitty said, “Yeah, okay. Sure. Fine with me.”

“Good.” Then Jada turned to Homulilly and Gretchen. “And you? Are we all cool here?”

“Sure,” Homulilly said in a neutral tone. “We’re…cool.”

“Great. Now, chill out, already.”

Mitty slouched back and folded her arms. Homulilly did the same. The two glared at one another.

Then Gretchen abruptly stood up. “I think we’d better go home,” she said to the group. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Yeah, me too,” Mitty said as she stood up as well. “Mood’s killed dead. So…bye.”

There was a small chorus of awkward murmured goodbyes from the others. Mitty went off in one direction, Gretchen and Homulilly in the other. For their part, Gretchen was completely silent the whole walk, while Homulilly just slouched with her head bowed and mouth set in a straight line.

When they reached their dorm Gretchen waited until they were both inside and the door was firmly shut before addressing the problem. “Homulilly,” she said. “What was that all about?”

Homulilly turned away.

“What’s wrong? Why did you snap at her like that?”

Homulilly slowly took a deep breath and let it out. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she muttered.

“But-”

“Drop it,” she said, and then stomped into the bathroom.

She locked the door and looked at the mirror. Oh God, her face was a mess. Her blush was all smudged, her mascara was starting to run, and her eyes were all watery. She had been so proud of how she had looked at the start of the night, but now it was horrid.

Which was just the perfect metaphor for everything about her, Homulilly bitterly reflected. She could do everything she could to make her look pretty, cool, and confident like just about everyone else, but as soon as something went wrong it all collapsed. It was just a frail façade, a fake mask.

Meanwhile, Mitty could show up with no makeup, baggy clothes, and her hair undone, and still come off as way better than she ever could! Same with the rest of them! Ophelia was practically a celebrity, Oktavia had actual albums and everyone knew who she was, Charlotte was about to become a published author, and Candeloro was off winning awards and getting invited to big events in other cities! Even Gretchen was out there joining committees and making friends. And Homulilly?

Well, she was ruining things for everyone just by being there.

Homulilly wet a washcloth and furiously wiped away the mess on her face. When she was done, she looked again at her reflection.

She didn’t know why she did. It wasn’t like there was anyone special looking back.

Homulilly threw the washcloth at the mirror. It hit and slipped down to the sink with a wet splat, leaving a bit blotch over her face’s image.

Then she slowly sat down onto the toilet and turned the shower on full blast so Gretchen wouldn’t hear her crying.

[mysimsloveaffair]

Gretchen stands up quickly.

Gretchen: Fishing?! Ewww...no! That’s where I’ll have to draw the line.

Adwin-Jamie: I’ll answer anything you want to know. Fishing is where I feel the most relaxed. I promise not to hold back at all. 

Ajay has sweetened the deal to the point that Gretchen can’t resist.  All of Gretchen’s professionalism slips away as she mentally tries to talk herself into it...

Gretchen: *deep sigh* Okay...uh, I guess I can do that. Anything for a story, right? Yeah...fishing. So what...shorts and a t-shirt?

Adwin-Jamie: Anything you feel comfortable in. 

Gretchen: Okay. See you tomorrow...I guess.

Ajay waves and Gretchen walks away.

[2700fstreet]

OPERA / 2018-2019

FAUST

STUDENT GUIDE

Washington National Opera Open Rehearsal Music by Charles Gounod Libretto by Jules Barbier and Michel Carré Based on Faust: Part I by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

School show: March 13

Teacher and Parent Guide: Faust

Who’s Who

Main Characters

Faust, a learned scholar (tenor—the highest male voice) Méphistophélès, a demon (bass—the lowest male voice) Marguerite, a young woman (soprano—the highest female voice) Valentin, her brother, a soldier (baritone—a middle-range male voice) Siébel, a young man (mezzo-soprano—a middle-range female* voice) Marthe, Marguerite’s neighbor (mezzo-soprano)

*It’s common for opera composers to assign young male roles to female singers.

So, What’s Going On?

The sixteenth-century Germanic countryside.

Poor Dr. Faust (pronounced FOUST). He’s been a scholar for decades but has now become an old man with nothing to show for it. He doesn’t really know anything. He doesn’t really feel anything. He has no idea what the meaning of life is. And he’s entirely alone.

Determined not to wait for death, he attempts suicide only to be distracted by a chorus singing God’s praises outside his door. Annoyed, Faust cries out that God can do nothing for him. Faust wants his youth back. He wants love and affection. God can’t give him any of those things.

So Faust calls upon the Devil instead (what a brilliant idea).

Immediately, the Devil appears in the form of Méphistophélès (meff-uh-STOFF-uh-lezz), a demon disguised as a wealthy gentleman. Faust explains he wants a chance to be young again (with maybe the added bonus of a few girlfriends), and Méphistophélès proposes a deal: all the youth and ladies Faust could ever want in exchange for his immortal soul.

Faust hesitates, but when Méphistophélès tempts him with a vision of a breathtaking woman who lives close by, he’s sold. The two sign a contract and Faust is transformed into a dashing young man, ready to hit the streets.

Take a listen…

Faust makes the spectacularly dubious decision to invoke the Devil. Listen for Faust’s breathless, agitated phrases. Think about how his outbursts compare to Méphistophélès’s smoother, more even-keeled melodies and deeper tone of voice. (Bonus: Check out the “word-painting” technique used when Méphistophélès stretches his voice to its lowest extremes as he sings about the hellish place “là-bas,” or “downstairs”).

In the nearby village, a young soldier named Valentin (vahl-ohn-TAEHN) prepares to go to war. Worried that his sister, Marguerite (mahr-geh-REE-tuh), will be left un-chaperoned, Valentin asks his young friend Siébel (syeh-BELL) to watch over her.

Take a listen…

Valentin says a small prayer that his sister will be kept safe (“Avant de quitter ces lieux,” or “Before I leave this place”). Listen for how this aria (solo song) is broken up into three sections: 1) a heartfelt plea with a plaintive melody, 2) a military march as Valentin preps himself for battle, and 3) a repeat of the first section with a few minor tweaks.

But soon, Méphistophélès arrives to stir up trouble.

Take a listen…

In his aria “Le veau d’or” (“The golden calf”), Méphistophélès conjures up the image of a devilish idol that inspires Satanic dances and possesses the power to bring down the human race. Listen for the cymbal crashes and fluttering wind instruments (think piccolos, flutes, oboes, and clarinets) that give Méphistophélès’s song the sense it’s whipping into a devilish frenzy.

After singing a song to entertain the locals, Méphistophélès teases Valentin and his friends by reading palms and predicting not-so-nice futures. The demon then proposes a toast in honor of Marguerite. Shocked that Méphistophélès knows his sister’s name, and sensing this stranger is up to no good, Valentin draws his weapon—only to have it shatter in midair. Valentin calls on God for protection from evil as the crowd disperses.

Later, Faust urges Méphistophélès to introduce him to the maiden from the magical vision. Méphistophélès cautions that this particular lady may not be interested in Faust’s advances—she is, after all, none other than (surprise!) Marguerite, Valentin’s pious sister. Still, Faust demands to see her, and Méphistophélès orchestrates a “meet cute.” Faust turns on the charm, but Marguerite shies away.

Attempting to speed the love affair along, Méphistophélès leads Faust to Marguerite’s house and leaves her a basket of jewels, hoping they’ll help Marguerite look more favorably on her new suitor.

And—boom—the gamble pays off.

As Faust and Méphistophélès hide nearby, Marguerite—who’s been daydreaming about her brief encounter with a handsome stranger (Faust)—uncovers the jewels and treats herself to a luxurious “makeover.”

Take a listen…

Marguerite checks out her new look in her aria, “Ah! Je ris de ma voir si belle” (which roughly translates as: “I’m laughing at how pretty I look”). Notice how she sings several notes in rapid succession (a style known a coloratura), to give the effect that she’s literally laughing.

Her neighbor, Marthe (MAHR-tuh) interrupts her, and Marguerite is slightly embarrassed, but not half as embarrassed as she is when Faust arrives, complimenting her beauty and proclaiming his undying love.

Méphistophélès distracts Marthe, leaving Faust and Marguerite alone. In no time at all, Marguerite reveals she’s just as smitten with Faust as he is with her, despite her concern that a whirlwind romance could bring her everlasting shame. (Marguerite may be innocent but she’s not stupid; she knows the other villagers won’t look kindly on an unwed woman who spends all her time with a young man). And yet, with a little coaxing from Méphistophélès, Marguerite agrees to be Faust’s girl forever.

Several months later.

With no recent word from Faust, Marguerite sits nervously at her spinning wheel. Siébel arrives to keep her company, but his attempts to comfort her are in vain: She’s carrying Faust’s child, and there’s no ring on her finger.

At this (very) inopportune moment, Valentin and his army come marching home from war. Having emerged victorious, Valentin is ready to celebrate with Marguerite, but soon discovers something’s gone very wrong in his absence (thanks for blabbing, Siébel).

As Valentin goes off to confront his “disgraced” sister, Faust and Méphistophélès turn up at Marguerite’s door hoping to smooth things over, as Faust has been feeling remorseful about leaving his former love.

But everything goes to hell (see what we did there?) when Valentin bursts on the scene, demanding someone take responsibility for his sister’s situation. A fight breaks out and Faust ends up stabbing Valentin. Faust and Méphistophélès disappear just as some villagers gather to see about the commotion. Marguerite rushes to her brother’s side, but Valentin pushes her away, claiming his impending death is all her fault and cursing her as he collapses on the ground.

With nowhere to turn, Marguerite goes to church to pray. Once there, however, an unforgiving voice (which sounds mysteriously like Méphistophélès) declares that her sins have damned her forever.

Sometime later, Marguerite has landed in prison. Her brother’s death and Faust’s abandonment have driven her mad, horrifically causing her to murder her newborn child.

Convinced he’s loved Marguerite all along and that the trials and tribulations of the past few months were all the Devil’s doing (really, dude?), Faust persuades Méphistophélès to help him break Marguerite free.

But will Faust’s newfound sense of commitment be enough to save Marguerite before it’s too late? Can his love rescue her from execution? Will they both be able to escape Méphistophélès’s eternal damnation?

Good to Know

By the time Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (GEUH-tuh, 1749-1832) began writing the epic saga that would inspire Charles Gounod’s (goo-NOH, 1818-1893) opera, the legend of Faust—the ultimate “deal with the Devil” story—was already a few centuries old. Indeed, German texts from the sixteenth century reveal “Doctor Faust” may have actually been a real doctor or magician who reportedly died a very strange, very gruesome death. The doctor’s bizarre bio eventually made its way into Germanic folklore (way before the days of the Brothers Grimm), where it was transformed into a cautionary tale about the dangers of asking too much out of life.

Faust would later be immortalized by Shakespearean contemporary Christopher Marlowe in his play Doctor Faustus, and would enjoy even greater fame nearly two hundred years later thanks to Goethe’s massive two-part drama (a work that took him nearly 60 years to finish). Goethe’s version came with a twist, however: He was the first to introduce the character of Margaret (also known as “Gretchen” and referred to as “Marguerite” in French), the young woman Faust seduces and then discards.

It was Marguerite’s side of the story that proved so moving it went on to influence a long list of nineteenth-century Romantic artists, including powerhouse composer Hector Berlioz (who wrote his own Faustian opera, La damnation de Faust), song master Franz Schubert, and Gounod, who became a fan of the Goethe story during a trip to Rome—a place filled with images of angels and demons.

Faust’s tale continued to spark imaginations well into the twentieth and twenty-first centuries (think of movies like Damn Yankees and Bedazzled or more recent TV series like Lucifer or Chilling Adventures of Sabrina), and the term “Faustian bargain” has become a universal phrase meaning “to sell one’s soul.” The original Doctor Faust may have met a tragic end, but his legacy isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Learning to Listen

Going to the opera means you’ll have to start listening in a new way if you want to take in everything the music and the voices have to offer. And guess what? This is less difficult than it sounds.

Try thinking of opera singing as its own type of language or speech. When we’re speaking, our emotions can change the way our voices sound from moment to moment—and one word can have a thousand different meanings depending on how we say it (loudly, softly, quickly, slowly, with a high- or low-pitched voice, etc.). The same is true for the characters in an opera. Each voice you’ll hear will have its own special flavor depending on who the character is and what he or she is saying.

Marguerite, for example, is an innocent and sensitive young woman. Her voice, therefore, will be on the higher side (to provide a clue that she’s youthful and inexperienced) and will occasionally soar above the orchestra with intense emotion (such as when she raises her voice in prayer or when she pleads with Faust not to break her heart).

Faust, on the other hand, spends much of the opera as a young man with a tremendous appetite for fun. His bright tenor voice (a vocal type associated with heroes) symbolizes his youthful, reckless, and passionate personality. His melodies often pour out in short, explosive musical phrases that are meant to remind us of his lust for life.

When in doubt about how a character is feeling or what they’re thinking, always pay close attention to exactly how they sound. (The instruments in the orchestra will give you hints as well.)

Check This Out…

Gounod frequently uses musical foreshadowing to signal his listeners as to where the story of Faust is headed. Can you identify any specific moments in which the music provides some dramatic spoilers? (Hint: Listen carefully to the overture, Mephistophélès’s entrance, and Marguerite and Faust’s tortured love duet.) On the other hand, are there any scenes in which the music fakes you out by evoking the wrong mood? (Hint: Listen for the upbeat victory march that plays when Valentin returns home.)

Watch for the ways in which the costume, lighting, and makeup designs help give you hints about each character’s status and their relationship to those around them. Do the costumes and lighting provide you with any clues regarding the characters’ personalities? Can you tell who’s “good” and who’s “evil” based on what they wear or what colors they’re associated with? Do you notice any shifts in how the characters look as their stories progress or their motivations change?

Marguerite’s spinning wheel aria (“Il ne revient pas,” or “He hasn’t returned”) was inspired by an actual poetic “song” in Goethe’s text, and there are many other musical settings of the exact same scene. Why do you think this moment gets such special attention in so many different versions of Faust? What do you think the spinning wheel might symbolize? (For extra points: How would you know Marguerite’s aria features a spinning wheel even if you closed your eyes? What instrumental sounds are used to create a spinning effect?)

Think About This…

In opera, supernatural and/or extremely powerful figures such as gods, demons, kings, or ghosts are usually sung by basses. Why do you think composers gravitate toward lower male voices when writing these characters? Do you feel the bass sound suits Mephistophélès? How so?

The chorus plays an essential role in Faust. Why do you think Gounod opted to feature such a large group of men and women in so many scenes? What function do they serve? Can you recall any other theatrical or literary works in which a chorus is used in a similar way?

In Goethe’s homeland of Germany, Gounod’s Faust is sometimes called Marguerite instead. Why do you feel that might be? Who do you think is the true hero of the opera? Who’s the true villain? (Consider this: Mephistophélès may be a demon, but are his crimes any worse than Faust’s? Or Valentin’s? Or anyone else’s?)

Take Action: Social Serenade

Though Gounod’s opera could be looked at as one big ethical fable, many of its themes and lessons come packaged in folk songs or serenades—miniature fables told by the characters as they sing of hypothetical stories that mirror their own. These include Marguerite’s ballad of the King of Thule (who dies for love), Mephistophélès’s satirical tune about a woman named Catherine (who must resist her boyfriend’s advances until marriage), and the soldier’s brief song about a cat and a rat (or a predator and his prey).

Gounod’s not alone in using this trick. You probably know this already, but many artists—poets, painters, songwriters, you name it— choose to bury significant social messages in made-up tales about distant historical figures or even non-human characters (think Aesop) who speak in simple phrases or easy rhymes.

Think you’re up for trying out the same tactic in the real world?

Pick a news story or social cause that concerns you (anything from politics, to polar bears, to the potholes on your local highway) and take a shot at weaving a fake story around this theme. Try and present your tale in small sections or stanzas (like a serenade) and, if you feel like it, see if you can use a rhyming scheme as well. Most importantly, be sure to add a clever moral at the end if you can. (If you want to go the extra mile, write a tune to accompany your poetic “song.”)

If you’re comfortable, share the finished product with family and friends, or submit it to a local newspaper or regional poetry competition. See if your readers can uncover your hidden message and/or guess which real-life story inspired your sneaky serenade.

EXPLORE MORE

Go even deeper with the Faust Extras.

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All photos by Lynn Lane for Houston Grand Opera.

Writer: Eleni Hagen

Content Editor: Lisa Resnick

Logistics Coordination: Katherine Huseman

Producer and Program Manager: Tiffany A. Bryant

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David M. Rubenstein Chairman

Deborah F. Rutter President

Mario R. Rossero Senior Vice President Education

Timothy O’Leary General Director

Francesca Zambello Artistic Director

Major support for WNO is provided by Jacqueline Badger Mars.

David M. Rubenstein is the Presenting Underwriter of WNO.

WNO acknowledges the longstanding generosity of Life Chairman Mrs. Eugene B. Casey.

WNO's Presenting Sponsor

This performance is made possible by the Kimsey Endowment; The Morris and Gwendolyn Cafritz Foundation and the U.S. Department of Education.

Major support for educational programs at the Kennedy Center is provided by David M. Rubenstein through the Rubenstein Arts Access Program.

© 2019 The John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts