#and I hope that maybe I can find unobtrusive ways to teach a bit of Bible interpretation here and there

[asinglesock]

they got me again and they probably can always get me again

[queen-of-my-goofball-army]

Glittering Prizes And Endless Compromises (shatter the illusion of integrity)

Hi everyone! This is my latest one shot that I have taken a small detour in doing. I have decided to change my mind on my Sk8 The Infinity fic and instead shrunk Haru and Sakura's ages. This is post-series and I thought that it would be cute to do Sakura x Miya. I hope that you all enjoy this fic! I have the song list if anybody is interested as well.

Haru: Thirty Three by the Smashing Pumpkins.

Miya: Limelight by Rush

Sakura: Spirit of Radio by Rush

The sun shone through my window in the early morning and I instantly rolled over softly hissing at the idea that it was way too early for anybody to be awake. It was a big day for me though. Today was the tryouts for the professional skateboarding team. It was time for me to show that I was worthy of Miya’s love and affection. I knew that I could do something really special with my board and my love of Rush. So I themed my skate around my favorite song. Very few skaters actually skateboarded to music it was seen as a distraction and something that brought them out of the experience. For me though, music grounded me and it reminded me that I wasn’t in front of a hundred different people. I loved performing through skateboarding to me that’s what it was. It was a way of expressing the way that I felt about a handful of things but mainly about the way that my favorite band made me feel. The different emotions that lyrics brought to me through skating. I slowly rolled out of bed and grabbed my skating gear that I would wear today. Reki had apparently made a brand new board that was special for this day. I had no idea what he was planning on doing but I willed myself to just be surprised. Putting on my FullMetal Alchemist themed hoodie I remembered why I was doing this.

“I’m doing this to prove to Miya that he doesn’t have to do this alone. I’ll always be there for him to support him and catch him if he ever happens to fall. This isn’t a battle that he has to fight alone. I want to make him happy. In order to show him that I can this is what I need to do.” I tied my hair into a braid and tossed it over my shoulder with a small smile on my face. I looked over at the picture frame that was on my desk of Miya and I when he was first teaching me how to skate. It brought a smile to my face every time that I saw it.

“I love you Miya, so much. Today I’m finally going to tell you just how much. I don’t care that you don’t like me back, all I want to do is prove myself worthy of your love and affection. This is more for me than it is for anything else.” I encouraged myself with a bright smile on my face. I tied my high tops around my ankles and put my headphones around my neck.

“Sakura?” My brother looked up at me from down the hallway and I waved to him tentatively coming closer to him.

“What are you doing up moron? You have a big today too if you want to skate and get yourself a spot of the Japanese Nationals team.” I told him lightly and he just hugged me tightly to him. I stiffened in surprise. I was usually the type to hug my brother not the other way around. Even then it was rare that he would hug me back preferring to keep me at arms length as of late.

“I love you Sakura…” He reminded me and I felt tears come to my eyes at the admission. He truly did love me I could tell. For as much as we fought and bickered I knew that I would never have anybody in my life quiet like my younger brother.

“I love you Haru. Where’s this coming from?” He showed me his board and I smiled softly at my signature that looked really frayed and choppy.

“I just was looking at my board and saw your signature there from when we were kids. I miss those days.” I smiled softly at my brother and he hugged me tightly. I hummed under my breath the song that usually got my brother back to sleep.

“Were you listening to Thirty-Three as well? It’s too early for you to be awake officially idiot. Get back to bed.” He just sighed against me with a small smile on his face. I carded my fingers through his green curls humming the Smashing Pumpkins song that I knew got my brother through the day. Where I had grown up loving Rush, my brother took a shine to the band that our mom had skated to as a teenager. It always made me laugh when I thought about my mom skating to screaming heavy metal music.

“I was. I woke up from a nightmare and had to go to take a leak.” I pushed my brother away from me playfully gagging.

“God you are the most disgusting pig that I’ve ever met. I’ve got to get going. I wanted to get an early skate session in before dad makes breakfast. Knowing him we’ll be having a full course meal when I come back. You try and get some sleep seaweed brain.” I teased lightly ruffling his seaweed colored hair and he just chuckled a little bit at me.

“I’ll try to go back to bed. Good luck skating, be safe out there and don’t get hurt. I know that you’ll be alright sis. It’s just a reflexive response.” I pulled my headphones on over my ears seeing the sun barely rising in the sky. It was so early that the rest of the world was still asleep like I should have been. I went through my playlist knowing that Geddy Lee would get me awake and moving.

“Begin the day with a friendly voice a companion unobtrusive plays that song that’s so elusive and the magic music makes your mornin’ mood…” I could always count on the beautiful lyrics of Rush to call out to me like an old friend wrapping me up in a warm embrace and reminding me of how much I loved music. I skated to the song pulling out all my tricks that I would be doing for today’s show outside of the shop. There was something really specific that this song in particular meant to me. It was about childhoods spent in long car ride with my dad as he introduced me to the band that changed his teenage years. It inspired me to go out there and change the world through the beautiful song lyrics that I had grown up hearing. Geddy’s voice called me to like no other ever had and it had me tearing up now that I was older.

“Man it’s too early for me to start crying…” I heard my phone buzz and I took my phone out of my backpack that I was skating with. It was an early morning text from Miya.

Miya: Turn around, your music is too loud. I’ve been calling you for the last three minutes. I whipped my head around seeing the familiar green and purple cat hoodie and the boy that had the most beautiful sea green eyes that I had ever seen.

“You nervous?” He asked me and I nodded my head. He parked his board next to me bumping his shoulder with mine.

“Sakura if anybody is even close to my level it’s you. You’re going to amaze so many people out there today just by showing them what you’re made of.” He reminded me with a light smile on his face when I nodded my head with a small smile.

“I’m not just doing this because I want to beat you Miya. There’s another reasoning behind it. I’ll tell you about it later. Just know that I’m going to do the best that I can. My brother is too, he’s been skating a lot recently. He still hasn’t told me what to just like I haven’t told you what I’m doing for my song. Are you finally ready to spill your beans?” I stretched my arms over my head and I saw the small smirk on my best friend’s face.

“That is for me to know and you to find out later this afternoon. I think I have a good idea of what your brother is doing, how is he?” I nodded my head smiling softly thinking about the softness that he had when he hugged me earlier.

“He’s good! He hugged me this morning, I think that he’s just really excited about today. He hasn’t hugged me a lot lately. I wish that I could make everything better for him just by magic. Give him the body that he’d be the most comfortable in and maybe then he’d hug me more…” Miya put his arm around my shoulders and the scent of apple and deodorant came over me that I had loved since I was eleven years old. I was fourteen now and I still couldn’t think of a better scent to wrap myself up in.

“He’ll open up to you it’s just that well as you often call him he’s an idiot. Speaking of idiots, are you sure about letting Reki make you a new board for today that you have never in your life skated on?” I laughed a little bit at my best friend.

“I’m positive about it, I trust him. I know that he’ll make a board that I’m able to skate with. I’ve had this one for the last three years anyway and it’s looking pretty bumbish at this point.” I joked and picked up my Beauty And The Beast board.

“Do you think that this one will be Rush themed? That would be really cool and it would suit you in some degree. Your a misfit and they are the band for misfits.” I smiled softly at the support that my best friend had always given me to pursue my interests.

“It would be amazing if that’s what he came out with but at this point I have no idea since he wants for it to be a surprise. You’ve had your board for even longer than I’ve had mine. When are you going to trade up?” I teased lightly and he just gasped playfully at me clutching his board tighter to him as if I would wretch it from his hands.

“I would never give up my baby like that.” I rolled my ruby eyes playfully at him shaking my head at his ridiculousness.

“Fine, be an overdramatic baby for all I care. I’m just trying to be useful.” Miya looked at me with a small smile on his face lightly leaning against my side.

“You are useful Sakura. This isn’t about that at all it’s about you trying to just make small talk. You only do that with me when you’re really nervous about something and you don’t want to talk about your feelings because they’re too big for you to handle.” I looked down at my high top sneakers not expecting to have woken up this morning to be totally called out.

“You want to tell me what’s really wrong with you? If you don’t want to tell me then that’s fine. You’ll tell me eventually and I don’t want to start a fight with you today.” Miya argued and I felt the color drain from my face.

“It’s just, there’s this person that I really like. But at the same time I feel like I have to push myself to feel like I’m worthy of them. Because why would somebody as incredible as they are want to be with somebody like me?” My best friend slowly stopped walking next to me and I turned around to look at him.

“It’s Kayla, isn’t it?” In my head, my brain was laughing hysterically. Kayla was one of my friends that I had met through band, she was an electric guitarist and I was a bass guitarist. I basically saw her as the Alex Lifeson to my Geddy Lee so to me this was the funniest shit ever at three in the morning.

“You don’t know them, it’s not Kayla. Geez, she’s basically my sister don’t be gross. I met them in my art class.” I lied through my teeth and Miya looked at me with one skeptically raised eyebrow. I had always sucked at lying to my best friend.

“But you flirt with Kayla all the time…” I cocked my head to the side thinking about the relationship that I had with my friend from my band class.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about she’s basically the Alex to my Geddy.” My best friend caught up to me and I could see the sprinkles of doubt in those eyes that I held so dearly.

“Don’t they flirt too even though they’re both straight?” I laughed at my best friend bumping my hip with his.

“Well they’re mostly just a super open friendship where they can admit that they love each other than insist that one of them is an idiot five seconds later. Seriously, you don’t know them. I never talk about them with you because I thought that you would mock me for it. They’re a cartoonist in my art class that I’m taking.” Miya sighed heavily running a hand through his dark black hair with a small frown on his face.

“What’s their name?” His voice took on that sad tone that I knew all too well when he would talk about his own parents.

“It’s Jacob. He’s a transfer student from America.” It wasn’t a complete lie, there was a transfer student in my art class who was from America. However, I had barely talked with apart from acknowledging that we were both interested in the same types of art. Due to my just in general social awkwardness it was rare for me to talk to anybody other than Kayla or Miya. I only talked with Kayla because she talked with me first when she realized that I was playing Fly By Night.

“You told me a little bit about him, he draws the superheroes right? I think you should go for it Sakura. Anybody in the whole world would be lucky to call you their girlfriend. Do you know if he likes Rush? I happen to know for a fact that not liking Rush is a relationship deal breaker for you.” I couldn’t help but laugh at my best friend.

“It is not a relationship deal breaker for me! It’s just something that I look for. I love music and I like to talk about it probably way more than I should. But that’s only because the two friends that I have were adamant about either getting into it or already knew it when I met them. I don’t know if he knows Rush. I don’t know a lot about him. It’s mostly a crush from afar and I don’t know how to talk to him.” Miya just looked at me skeptically.

“Sakura Nanjo, the most popular girl in our middle school class, voted kindest girl, doesn’t know how to talk to somebody? Not buying it.” He mentioned as an afterthought and I sighed heavily pulling my hood up past my pink hair.

“Well better start buying it, I’m socially awkward at the best of times. I’m just nice there’s nothing really all that special or unique about being nice.” My best friend stopped walking and looked over at me thumbing over my cheeks.

“Just try talking to him about what he’s interested in. I know that you can do it Sakura. I feel like the two of you will have a lot in common. Do you want to talk about something else?” I nodded my head with a small smile on my face. Miya supported his arm around my shoulders with a small smile on his face.

“Yes please.” My best friend got out his phone so that he could show me something that he had found to make me laugh.

“Do you remember when I told you that my old friend was starting to talk to me again? He hasn’t been on a board in over three years and this is what happened.” I laughed softly at the image in front of me at the boy that my best friend had told me had hurt him so badly in the past.

“How is that going by the way? I’m really happy that you managed to make a friend other than little ol me.” I teased lightly pinching his cheek and he just swatted my hand away playfully hissing at me like a small cat.

“Don’t discredit yourself Sakura. You’re an amazing best friend who changed everything for me. I know that you wanted to make better friends with Kayla due to your shared love of a certain progressive rock band that basically stole your heart. It’s actually going good, he’s coming out today to watch us skate.” I smiled softly at my best friend who had been there for me pretty much since he met me.

“I’m glad to see that he’s trying. I know that what he said and did really hurt you even if you didn’t talk about it with me a lot of the time. I got used to it eventually and knew that you’d come to me whenever you had problems that you needed to talk about.” I reminded him lightly and he just snuggled against my side with a small smile on his face.

“Your forgetting, I’m friends with you because you make good food and you have good taste in music.” I rolled my eyes lightly with a fond chuckle.

“Well nice to know that you’re best friends with me because of my wonderful personality you piece of shit.” I ruffled his black hair the familiar feeling of the soft strands wanted to make me bury my hands in there and just never leave.

“Nah your personality is hot garbage and you yell a lot I think I’m good.” He hugged me even tighter to him and I smiled sadly at him.

“I know I get frustrated and yell a lot. Especially at Haru. I wonder if he blames me for it.” Miya just stopped walking and officially hugged me for the first time that day. He had grown a solid four inches taller than me within the last couple of months and was now able to rest his chin on my head.

“I don’t think that your brother blames you for it in the slightest. I think that he’s just going through a lot and won’t accept help from anybody other than himself. He struggles a lot with the transitioning period and I did research and saw that a lot of people who are transitioning especially as harshly as he is that they struggle with depression, body dysphoria, and anxiety.” I nodded my head with a sad smile on my face thinking all that my brother had to struggle with.

“Why did you look that up?” I asked him and he just thumbed a lock of my pink hair into my braid with a small smile on his face.

“Because he’s your brother and I wanted to know what he was going through so that I could better help you. You’re a really touch affectionate type of person and I think that also makes him just the smallest bit uncomfortable. I was just teasing you when I told you that you yelled a lot. It’s not a bad thing to get annoyed and start yelling. Your mom does the same thing so it’s genetic probably just like his anxiety is for you.” I sighed because he just had to go and try to make this situation logical. I couldn’t help but smile softly at my best friend as he supported me throughout everything. He was always there when I needed for him to be to remind me that I hadn’t messed up too poorly with my brother.

“I don’t mean to get mad at him, I just want to help. But he won’t even let me help him at all… I don’t know what he’s thinking or why he’s doing what he’s doing. We used to be so close and I don’t know when it happened. When he went too far for me to keep up with him.” Miya just pulled back from the hug cupping my cheeks in his warmed gloved palms.

“I know that you just want to help and that you’re scared of one day him not needing you anymore. He might be experiencing self doubt and gender envy because you weren’t humiliated with the body that you have like he was. How did he come out to you again?” I closed my eyes at the familiar memory. It had been just a normal day for me running the restaurant and making sure that people left with full bellies and happy hearts.

“I had been making the bread for that day’s restaurant service. He came out to me first and he just asked me if I ever felt like I wanted to be a boy instead of a girl. I told him no but if he felt that way than I would encourage him. I’ve always just wanted to support him and have him be the best person that he could ever dream to be. But sometimes that’s easier said than done.” Miya put his arm supportively around my shoulders.

“He’ll come to you if he ever needs your help. He probably thinks that asking for help isn’t the “man” thing to do. It wouldn’t surprise me if your idiot brother was getting too sucked into his own head or if he was just sad about something in particular. Has he had a crush lately and been turned down?” I shook my head because as far as I knew my brother had never felt that way about anything. It wouldn’t surprise me if he came out to me again as aroace and told me that he wasn’t interested in relationships at all.

“Not that I know about, he’s always thought that my random crushes that last for like a week were super dumb. He used to tease me all the time about it when we were younger but he hasn’t lately. I’m sure that he’ll come to me when he wants to talk. It wouldn’t surprise me if mom just forces him to talk to us. He hasn’t been talking to him at all either as far as I know.” Miya leaned his dark head against my bright pink hoodie sleeve.

“Well maybe then it’s just something else and he’ll come to you when he feels ready Sakura. You can’t force your brother to talk to you it’s something that he needs to do whenever he feels ready.” He reminded me and I sighed a little bit.

“I know that already. It’s just that I worry about him even though I know that Haru is perfectly capable of taking care of himself. Maybe he’s just been hyper-focused on today more so than you or I.” I still had no idea what my brother was planning on skating to but I knew that he was going to amaze everybody with his rod actual talent.

“You’ve been practicing a lot lately to, more than normal. What’s going on inside that big brain of yours?” He asked me and I shrugged my shoulders trying to maintain my usual picture of nonchalance that I was used to.

“No particular reason I just love boarding that’s all. Making up for last time since I haven’t been able to skateboard for nearly as long as you or Haru has been able to. I’m able to skate because of you and I don’t think that I ever truly thanked you. Thank you Miya.” I thanked my best friend and he just smiled brightly at me.

“I didn’t do really much of anything I just taught you everything that I knew. You were a really fast learner and even learned how to ollie in record time. You mastered that within a month and it was amazing to finally see you soar high above everything else.” I smiled softly at the boy that had come into my life and taught me everything that I would need to know about freestyle skateboarding. The life of a skateboarder was something that I never knew that I would be able to have.

“That’s just because before I actually got on a board I knew all about the mechanics of how it all worked. I’m a natural fast learner but I took to boarding like a fish to water once I was finally able to with these bad boys.” I gestured to my skateboard that I was carrying and I smiled softly at the design. Reki had talked to me about getting the training wheels off of my board so that I could be able to skate like everybody else for the performance today. It was going to be my second surprise for Miya by the end of the day.

“Well yeah you kind of did go above and beyond. Was that for Haru when he was younger?” I nodded my head with a small smile on my face.

“It was. Skating has always been his special interest of choice and I was encouraging of it from a young age I just wanted him to be happy. It’s probably going to take a few years for him to be really genuinely happy but that’s still all I want for my brother.” Miya just sighed a little bit running a hand through his black hair.

“Can I come over for breakfast? My parents are having one of their let’s pretend that I don’t exist phases.” I nodded my head looping my arm around my best friend’s shoulders pulling him in closer to my side knowing that was what he needed.

“Course, you don’t need to ask if you can come over for breakfast. My parents are better than yours anyways. You’d think that they’d be more encouraging because you’ve got a big day today. Do they not want you to board anymore or something?” I asked him quizzically and he just shrugged his shoulders with a small sigh.

“Who the fuck knows anymore what my parents want for me to do. At this point I just do whatever and let them deal with the consequences. They’re not going to stop me from boarding even if this doesn’t work out. I think part of it was because they didn’t agree with how I’m doing today’s skate. They told me that I should take it more seriously.” My best friend sighed kicking a rock with his boot clad foot and I could tell that the talk that he had with his parents had gotten to him in some way.

“Did they find out what you were doing before even I did?!” Miya just chuckled softly at me shaking his head at me.

“I told them like an idiot what I had planned to do when they asked. Do your parents not know?” I shook my head making a fifty fifty hand motion.

“I’m sure that they have some idea that it’ll be to Rush since I can’t not skate to them but they haven’t specifically asked me what I’m doing yet.” My best friend just smiled softly at me keeping his head perched on my shoulder.

“What do you want for breakfast?” I asked him and he hummed a little bit from where he was rested against me.

“Frittata maybe?” I nodded my head since that was the perfect weekend brunch breakfast for when we had company over.

“Might have to stop at the grocery store then. I’m not sure that I have everything that I need to do for that. What kind of sides do you want? Fruit salad?” He nodded his head and I heard a soft mutter of house potatoes against my shoulder.

“You got it hun, come on. Let’s race to the store.” I got a head start on my board and heard the call of hey that’s not fair coming up from behind me as I started my playlist again. Trees was one of my favorite Rush songs because it was calming but at the same time energizing and invigorating. I saw the store up ahead and I rounded the corner seeing Miya coming up just behind me and he quickly cut me off just before I got there.

“You son of a bitch I was literally so close…” I whined getting out my phone and seeing that my mom had texted me.

Mom: Darling, your father wants to know if you are still making breakfast. There isn’t a whole lot of food at the house and considering that you are already out for the morning could you please do the weekly shopping for us? I’ll pay you back and then some. I smiled softly tilting my phone up and taking a screenshot of the market.

Me: Already here mom! Miya is coming back with me for breakfast today. He wants a frittata, home fries and I might make a watermelon salad. Miya just smirked a little bit at me seeing that I was texting my mom.

“Is it okay with Cherry that I come with you?” I smiled softly shaking my head at my best friend running a hand through my fringe.

“Of course it is, I don’t even need to ask him anymore. He already treats you like you’re his second son. Come on dummy, let’s get the shopping done.” I lightly hit his shoulder in retaliation for saying such a stupid and ridiculous thing.

“Do you want watermelon salad? It’s watermelon season so if you want that I can make that.” He nodded his head and I grabbed a cart quickly wiping it down.

“This might take a little while since I have to do the weekly shopping. Did you bring your switch?” He nodded his head and I saw the familiar red and blue portable gaming console in his hands.

“What kind of protein do you want in your frittata?” I asked my best friend and he handed me thick cut bacon and I couldn’t help but smile at him.

“But bacon makes you fat Miya…” I lightly teased and he just rolled his eyes at me with a small smirk holding the item way too far over my head.

“I like the way that you make it. You can make just about anything and I’ll eat it and then some. I’m not the same skinny kid that I used to be.” My heart melted and I couldn’t help but smile at my childhood friend.

“I know babe, I’m just messing with you. I’m sorry if that joke was a step too far. Come on, help me pick out a watermelon. Remember the way that I taught you?” He nodded his head and led me over to the summer fruit as he rapped his knuckle light on top of it.

“This one sounds good.” He handed me the big fruit and I lightly tapped it hearing the juicy sound and I nodded my head.

“Good find, I just need cucumber and then some feta for my watermelon salad! I have all the herbs at home in our kitchen garden.” My dad insisted on growing his own spices for the restaurant so we had a small greenhouse in our kitchen.

“Do you want anything else in your breakfast?” I asked the boy and he went off to the vegetables coming back with mushrooms, spinach and grape tomatoes. He also did me a favor and grabbed me some potatoes and onions.

“Good job! This will be delicious, come on, now to do the rest of the weekly shopping. I’ll also stop at the bakery for some fresh bread. I didn’t have enough time to make any lately. I know it’s not the same as mine though…” I whined and my best friend put his arm around my shoulders with a small smile on his face.

“It’s fine if you didn’t have enough time to bake lately. Baking bread takes a lot of time but the bakery stuff is still delicious. There’s just something special about your bread specifically that I love. Probably because it comes from you and I love you.” I felt my cheeks flush a bright pink as I just pushed the cart ahead of me. I checked my phone seeing that my mom had sent me a list and I quickly took care of everything that was on it.

“That’s everything, we can head to the bakery and then home James.” I joked and my best friend just smiled softly at me. When we checked out he took the heaviest bags as per the usual before I could even stop him.

“I can carry stuff on my own I hope you know.” I reminded him and he just picked up his board putting his hoodie down his inky black hair all in disarray from being inside of his hoodie for so long.

“I know that you can it’s just that you don’t need to carry it. I want to be useful to you and this is the only way that I can think of to be helpful.” He wants to be useful to me? Just like I want to be useful to him? Why was I having a hard time believing that.

“Fine do what you want but I can help you carry that watermelon. It has to be heavy.” He shook his head at me balancing it on one arm.

“I have been trying to bulk up a bit more mostly to get better at skating. Not like your dad or anything he’s a bit ridiculous.” I laughed at the idea of Miya looking anything like my dad shaking that image from my head.

“I think he’s the only one who could pull off the muscly himbo aesthetic. I love my dad he’s the best but that is not my type. It’s just my mom’s type.” I laughed a little bit at the idea of the two of them together walking down the road next to one of the most important people in my life.

“I admire both of your parents in very different ways. They’re both amazing people and they raised two of the most amazing kids possible despite the fact that they were working and boarding the entire time.” I smiled softly since a lot of people didn’t give my parents the credit that they deserved for raising my brother and me.

“You’re right and you should say it louder for the people in the back. Did you catch the last episode of Demon Slayer?” I had gotten him hooked on the demon hunting anime and he nodded his head with a bright smile on his face.

“It was really, really awesome. It’s such a good show! It’s kind of like if FullMetal was about demons instead of about science.” I snapped my fingers with a bright smile on my face. My best friend was always really good at noticing the similarities of certain things. Especially manga and anime.

“Especially when you consider the fact that they both were manga’s made by biological women! Even though Gotogue identifies as nonbinary. I still think it’s wicked awesome! More people other than men writing manga we love to see it.” I joked and my best friend just laughed a little bit for my bad joke. Talking about everything and nothing was always easy with Miya. I loved hearing his opinions about the things that had captured my interest. Whether that be a Rush song, a chapter of manga that I was obsessing over, a show that had stolen my heart I introduced them all to him and he always listened to me. It was one of those things that I loved about him the most.

“I mostly just started it because you were so passionate about it. That’s pretty much why I get interested in anything these days other than boarding.” I felt my cheeks color a bright pink as I walked next to the boy that had stolen my heart with one single look of his sea green eyes against my ruby ones.

“Wh-What?” I stuttered out in surprise and he just sighed a little bit looking out at the world around him. He shook his head with a small smile on his face rubbing the back of his neck.

“Don’t worry about it Sakura, it’s nothing. I promise you I’m fine I guess I’m just really getting hungry.” I laughed a little bit at him since that made all the sense in the world. I waved him behind me as he walked.

“The bakery where I buy the bread for the upstairs is this way. It’s the closest thing that is to my baking but mom usually won’t let me bake the bread that we eat. He told me once that it was too much work for me to be doing simply for our family to eat when it’s just as good from a local bakery. And it’s supporting a small business which he’s always encouraged.” He took my hand in his and I felt my face flush a flaming bright pink so grateful that he was behind me and couldn’t see it.

“Your bread does take you forever to make but that’s why I love to keep you company while you’re making it after school.” I couldn’t help but grin at the memory of him sitting at the bar while I worked on making the bread for he customers that night. When he was first getting into Rush I would play individually because that’s how I got interested in them. Then I started to play his favorites. Those early days of him simply sitting there and enjoying my music were ones that I looked back on with fondness.

“That’s why dad told me that I should just work Monday’s on bread and that I should make four times the recipe so that he could bake it throughout the week keeping it fresh. He also decided that he should give out much smaller baskets.” Miya squeezed my hand softly as I stopped in front of a traffic light and I looked ahead of me.

“Can we get a fruit tart as well?” I nodded my head with a small smile on my face. I knew that my dad was planning on baking strawberry shortcake tonight but my best friend loved fruit tarts and he was nearly impossible for me to say no to.

“You can pick it out while I’m doing my bread thing okay?” I held the door open for him since I was ahead of my best friend and he instantly went rushing for the bakery case. I went over to the bread with a small smile at him taking a picture of the bright smile that was on my best friend’s face texting it to my mom.

Me: We’re at the bakery now! He’s getting a fruit tart for our dessert for brunch. I know that dad promised a strawberry shortcake but we’ll get plenty of exercise today. My mom sent me back a series of teary eyed emojis.

Mom: Have you asked him out yet or will that be done later? I felt a trickle of panic go sousing through me.

Me: How did you know that I was planning on asking him out?!

Mom: Sweetie, I’m your mother I know these things. I know that you are terrified of losing him but you won’t and he’ll still love you no matter what.That boy has been enamored with you since he was a smart mouthed 11 year old. I put my phone away so that my best friend would be no wiser as to what I was talking about with my mom. I grabbed the bread that I wanted three loaves of it and went up to pay for it at the front counter while my best friend was staring at the pastries.

“Do you want cream puffs or fruit tart?” I asked my best friend and he pointed to the nectarine fruit tart. I smiled softly at him nuzzling against him.

“Can I have the nectarine fruit tart please?” The worker smiled softly at the two of us and wrapped up the tart that I wanted.

“Of course! You’re both extremely cute together. It’s nice to see young lovers together.” I felt my cheeks flush a bright pink and I wanted to protest.

“We’re just friends ma’am it’s cute though that you would think that we were dating.” Miya explained a little bit to her. The woman’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she sputtered out apologizes.

“No worries we get that a lot but I’m just super clingy with her. I can’t help it, if you were my age wouldn’t you be?” I felt my cheeks stain a bright pink color but I couldn’t help but positively melt under the affection of my best friend.

“There you cuties go! Good luck today!” She encouraged the two of us and I picked up the tart Miya picking up my bread and putting it into his bags from the grocery store.

“Have a nice day!” I waved to the bakery owner with a bright smile on my face. Miya looked over at me and I cocked my head to the side.

“What’s up?” I asked him and he looked at the hair that I had tied back into a braid on my left side of my face.

“Your hair is getting longer, I was just noticing how beautiful it looked in this lighting. I think that it just looked really pretty and I wanted to tell you how pretty it looked.” I flushed a bright pink lightly shoving my best friend’s side little bit.

“Stop it you big flirt, you’ve been hanging out with my dad too much it’s starting to mess with your brain.” I mocked and he just sighed a little bit looking at me with one black raised eyebrow at me.

“I’m being genuine that’s not being flirty Sakura. Your dad’s compliments to your mom are always genuine.” I looked down at my sneakers that I had put on earlier. I didn’t know what to do whenever Miya flirted with me because it was a rare occurrence but whenever it did happen I wound up wanting to both treasure the moments and bury myself into a hole.

“I never know what to do when you flirt with me hun it’s so embarrassing…” Miya laughed at me a little bit poking lightly at my cheek.

“That’s why I do it to see how you react. Do you think that you can help me study for the history exam tomorrow?” I nodded my head with a small smile on my face. I always helped him to study for tests whenever he asked me.

“Of course, you don’t even have to ask me I always will. History is one of my better subjects too. I might not be a very gifted writer or calligrapher like my brother but he sucks at history.” My best friend laughed openly at my bickering relationship with my younger brother by five minutes.

“You both have your strengths and weaknesses. It’s why it’s fascinating being friends with both of you since are so different.” I smiled softly at my best friend as I walked next to him. The walk back home was spent in comfortable silence. Miya was one of the few people that I didn’t need to talk to in order to feel comfortable with him. He held the door open to Sia De Luce for me and I smiled up at my best friend.

“Thank you, alright time to make the grub for the fam.” We walked up the stairs together and I heard my family talking from the kitchen.

“We’re back and I’ve brought the other slacker!” I toed off my sneakers and Miya muttered softly I am not a slacker causing me to laugh and ruffle his dark hair.

“You did help me to carry the groceries that’s more than Haru.” I teased lightly hearing my brother’s call from the kitchen table.

“I carry the freaking groceries!” He fought back at me and I put the food items that I would need for my breakfast. “Morning beautiful flower.” My dad kissed my forehead standing above me to get mugs for coffee. My mom hugged me with a small smile on his face.

“Morning sweetheart, hello there Miya.” My mom waved to our shirt member of the family who was relaxing on the couch.

“Hi Kaoru, thank you for having me.” My mom kissed his forehead lightly with a small smile on his face. My dad made his coffee and brought it over to him with a gentle kiss.

“Of course it’s always nice to have you over. Did your parents and you get into another fight?” Miya leant against my mom’s side when he put his arm around his shoulder’s.

“Yeah they’re not a fan of me right about now. I stupidly told them that I was skating to music when they asked me what I was planning. So it’s been a lot of fighting with them lately. I wanted to stay away from them this morning so it was lucky running into Sakura.” I smiled softly at my best friend getting a mug of hot chocolate to my best friend on the coach.

“It’s not your fault that you told them what you were thinking about doing. If anything it’s your parents fault for getting pissed at you for no reason. I skated to music all the time when I was your age. It’s how I got into Rush.” My dad reasoned sitting next to my mom as he leaned his head against my dad’s shoulder. I went over to my brother to make sure that he got more sleep.

“Did you go back to sleep Haru?” I asked him looking at my brother to make sure that he was telling me the truth.

“I did don’t worry about me. I’ll be able to skate perfectly fine without falling off of my board.” I smiled softly at my brother ladling him up some hot chocolate and adding the fresh whip cream and cinnamon on top just the way that he liked it when he wanted to spoil himself.

“I was just making sure hun because you looked pretty ragged when I ran into you this morning. Are you… okay? You know that you can talk to me if you ever need to. I’m here for you.” I squeezed his shoulder and he looked down his green curls in front of his face.

“I’ve just been going through a lot on my own and I don’t need any help with it. I can handle shit on my own.” He went up and went over to the living room and I buried my head in my hands feeling tears come to the corners of my eyes. What was I doing wrong? Why couldn’t I be a better older sister? One that he can trust and lean on. I heard a soft pitter-patter of footsteps and a warm arm go around my shoulders as I was pulled into my mother’s side.

“Carla, play Sakura’s Best Of Rush Playlist on shuffle.” He told the AI that we kept on the table when he wasn’t skating.

“Of course master, playing Sakura’s Best of sparkle Rush sparkle Playlist.” I couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the fact that the AI pronounced the emojis instead of just leaving them out like anybody else would.

“Your brother does love you Sakura. It’s just that you know that he needs to figure things out on his own sometimes. He wants you to be proud of him. That has always been the goal that he strives for. That’s why he’s been pushing himself so hard lately. He wanted you to be proud of him today that’s why he shut himself off from you. He has also just started taking T on the doctor’s requirements and she warned him that it could make him become irritable and moody. I assume that he’s taking it out on you because you don’t hate your body the way that he does. I’d recommend just letting him work through his issues and remember that he does love you. I love you Sakura. You’ve made me very proud of you not just today but everyday.” He reminded me lightly thumbing over my nose with a small smile on his face. I closed my eyes at the feeling of my favorite band coming over me.

“I know but he told me that he would try not to get angry at me for no reason because he knows that I’ll wind up fearing that it something that I had done.” He kissed my forehead with a small smile on his face thumbing over my knuckles.

“Just wait until you see him skate today and the decide whether or not your brother hates you okay? Do you need anything from me?” I shook my head and Miya peaked his head into the kitchen pressing his index fingers together lightly.

“Can I keep you company Sakura?” I looked at my best friend skeptically wondering if he had heard the conversation between my brother and I from the living room.

“I think that’s a lovely idea Miya. I am going to try and talk to my wayward son and help him figure out why he’s so angry.” I stood up from the kitchen chair that I was sitting on and my best friend took my hand in his pulling me into a tight hug.

“He’s not mad at you Sakura, it’s just an alternative reaction from the T…” He reminded me the same thing that my mom had just told me.

“But what if he is mad at me? He has every right to be if he is angry at something that I did. I’ve messed up so many times, I always yell at him when he’s had a bad day, I’m a bad sister…” Miya just lightly shushed me hugging me even closer to me.

“You are not a bad sister. You’re the best sister in the entire world and Haru couldn’t have thought of a better one even if he wanted to. He loves you it’s just the hormones that he’s adjusting to getting him into a bad spot and a serious case of gender envy. Didn’t he recently get onto the boys basketball team for high school?” I nodded my head and my best friend just rubbed soothing motions into my back with a small smile on his face.

“Then that would explain some things, he’s around biological males all the time now and he’s getting all pissy because he wants to be one so badly. But he knows that he isn’t hence the gender envy thing. He’ll apologize to you in his own special way and it’ll remind you that your brother always has your back.” Miya pulled back from the hug drying my tears with the pads of his fingers lightly. He got me a cup of hot chocolate putting whip and rainbow sprinkles on it.

“Here you go take some deep breaths for me…” He handed me the cup and I followed his instructions taking deep breaths and the warmth of the drink calmed me down instantly.

“What’s first on the itinerary, is it chopping the watermelon? I want to do it!” He exclaimed and I looked at my best friend as he cut into the water melon getting all of it off of the rind.

“Want one?” He asked me stuffing a piece of it into his mouth and the watermelon rind made it into a smile. I couldn’t help but laugh at him as I took my own slice and made my own smile with it.

“I’ll start cutting the vegetables and frying the bacon for the frittata.” My best friend told Carla to turn up the music as he tapped his foot to the familiar drum solo on Limelight his favorite song. I got out a pan and sheeted the bacon on top of it. My dad came into the kitchen and smiled softly at the two of us.

“I was going to see if you needed any help flower but you seem to have everything handled.” He leaned against the kitchen counter and I looked up at him.

“I’ve got it Kojiro, thank you though. I’ll take good care of her.” My dad fluffed Miya’s hair and got the familiar batting away that my best friend gave to him.

“You always do kid that’s why you’re the only guy I’ve ever let hang around my daughter.” I flushed a bright pink and my dad just smirked at me winking in my general direction on his way out.

“Sakura? You okay?” I nodded my head with a nervous smile on my face dusting my shorts around my leggings.

“I’m fine, just my dad being an idiot again. He’s exhausting…” He laughed at me openly his sea green eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

“Does he really do that with every other boy that comes to the restaurant?” I nodded my head because so many people from my class had come to ask me out. Before I even told them that I wasn’t romantically available my dad would give them the shovel talk and the kick your ass out the door treatment.

“You have no idea he has done it so many times that it’s honestly one of the most annoying things that he does. You wouldn’t believe me I told you and I don’t have any videos. Haru has all of those.” Miya instantly texted my brother and he got several videos back.

“I will definitely be watching those later with a bowl of popcorn.” I sighed heavily. This was the boy that I had decided that I wanted to be good enough for and that I was proving myself for.

“Who’s side are you on here?!” I asked him exasperatedly and he just laughed openly at me lightly hip checking me.

“The side that makes the most jokes at your expense that’s what side I’m on.” I rolled my eyes heavily at my best friend.

“Fine be that way asshole…” Miya looked at me with a worrying expression on his face. He put his arm around my shoulders comfortingly.

“You only call me an asshole when you’re in a bad mood and I push it too far. Do you think that you’re going to be alright? For skating today?” I nodded my head with a small smile on my face. I heard probably one of my favorite songs from the synthesizer era of Rush and I lightly closed my eyes just letting Geddy’s voice wash over me.

“I’ll be fine thank you for worrying about me though. I know that I can handle this. I’m stressed out and worried about Haru but I think that eventually I’ll make it through. He’ll come to me when he needs me and I’ll try my best to be a good listener and the best older sister that I can.” Miya leaned his head against my shoulder and carefully cubbed the watermelon so that it would fit into the salad slicing the rest into a Tupperware for later use. “

That’s my girl.” I couldn’t help but smile softly past the high blush on my cheeks ignoring the feeling of heartbreak in my chest that reminded me that I wasn’t his anything. I just minced the vegetables in companionable silence with my best friend not sure what to talk about at the moment. I just wanted to enjoy the silence.

“What are your plans for the summer?” Miya asked me and I brushed a lock of pink hair behind my ear with a small smile.

“I have no idea really other than probably seeing you every day because you never leave me alone. I’ll also probably jam with Kayla a lot as well. Other than that we’re not going anywhere special. Last year was a rare occasion.” Last year my family had gone to Italy for a good chunk of our summer break. Miya had whined about it the entire time leading up to the trip.

“That’s good, I was super lonely when you were gone. I know that you had a great time with your family and I didn’t want to stop you from having fun with your family. I just didn’t know what to do with myself.” I smiled softly at my best friend at the fact that I had made such a big impact on his life that he got like this whenever I needed to leave for any length of time.

“Other than the usual festivals and things like that we’re not doing anything special. Trips to the beach as well!” I cheered at the idea of the yearly found family trip to the beach. I hadn’t seen a whole lot of Reki and Langa lately outside of when I visited Dope Sketch.

“Oh geez that’s right summer found family beach trips. Do I have to go? Whenever I do Reki always teases me and I hate it…” I fluffed the back of my best friend’s dark hair with a small smile on my face.

“He only does that because he loves you and he likes to get under your skin Miya. It’s in his nature to be teasing, he does it with me too in case you’ve forgotten. It’s impossible to get away from teasing Reki Kyan.” My best friend sighed muttering fine that he would come and it made me smile that I had managed to convince him.

“Good, now can you hand me the eggs? You’re closer to the fridge than I am.” He handed me the eggs carefully and I cracked the amount that I wanted into the bowl also adding the half n half, bacon that was crispy, and vegetables into the frittata pan.

“Can I ask you something? Do you think that you’re going to do band club again after break?” I nodded my head since I had gotten my offer to come back the other day.

“I got the offer to come back so I’m going to keep coming back as long as they need a bass player and they want for it to be me. I had fun there this last semester. I know that you were waiting there for me until it was all over but you don’t need to do that.” He thumbed the corner of my nose lightly booping it and I just pouted at him.

“I wanted to wait for you and I’m going to continue to do so every day after school. My parents couldn’t care less about me right now and I’d rather wait to spend time with the person who means more to me than anybody else than go home and be ignored.” My heart squeezed at the admission and I looked down at my Disney themed socks nervously.

“Thank you for that. I know that it took a lot of guts to tell me all of that but you’re getting better at being honest about what you’re going through. At least better than me. I’m still trying to shoulder the world and only relying on people when I have to.” Miya just smiled softly at me helping me to pour the egg mixture into the baking pan that I would need cutting the cheese and putting the cubes into the eggs. When the oven dinged he carried the pan over to the oven and scheduled the practiced cooking time.

“I think that you’ve gotten a lot better at taking breaks than when I met you a few years ago. You’re working out the kinks in your problems. Hey it’s Presto!” He cheered with a bright smile on his face and I hummed the familiar tune that I had grown up hearing.

“What a fool I was for you!” I sang along with the iconic lyrics of the song thinking about about how true they really were when it came to my best friend.

“These are some of my favorite lyrics of Neil’s…” He wrapped his arms around my waist resting his chin on my head.

“I love it too, they are really pretty. You comfortable up there?” I asked my best friend who pressed a kiss to the top of my forehead watching the flush down my cheeks.

“Yes I am your hair is a great pillow. It’s insanely soft…” I felt the blush start to travel from my cheeks on downwards and I just shook my head at his ridiculousness. I was used to the goofiness that my best friend exuded and how tactile he was. Once he learned that hugs, cuddles, and just genuine affection were basically considered normal I became attached to his hip.

“Hey Sakura, do you think that you would ever go out with me?” I froze instantly looking up at him feeling my heart lurch at the idea that we were having this talk now when my dad crashed into the room.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything!!” Miya leapt away from my hair and where he had been clinging onto me and I sent my dad my death glare.

"N-Nope we’re totally fine.” He squeaked and I couldn’t help but chuckle a little bit at him as I chopped the potatoes.

“Have you had any cocoa yet Miya?” I asked him getting a mug for my best friend as he shook his head and I ladled him up a mug topping it with whip cream.

“Anything else?” He reached for the purple sugar dust and I couldn’t help but chuckle lightly at him. Some things would never change, like the fact that he preferred his foods in childish colors. His favorite being the childish purple.

“That’s so good…” He sighed with a small smile on his face. He put his mug next to mine lightly clinking it.

“My dad makes it the best, I’m still learning how to make the perfect hot cocoa. We’ll continue that talk later you asshole. I can’t believe you sometimes. I was going to tell you something after you got onto the Japanese Nationals team and I tried out for it. It’s something that I’ve kept inside of me for a really long time.” He squeezed my hand with a small smile on his face. My favorite of his smiles. The one that was reverence and comfort, it was days spent watching Disney movies as he helped me to pass a level on Pokémon.

“Are you gong to profess your undying love for me?” He teased lightly and I felt the colors go across my cheeks looking down at my socks. Oh you absolute adorable dumbass, you have no idea how much I love you. I just hope that you don’t hate me by the end of the day. The song changed to one that always made me want to sing along with. It was the song that my parents danced to at their wedding when they renewed their vows a few years ago, Closer To Your Heart the lines etched around their ring fingers in tattoos. My dad bolted out of the room probably to go and find my mom and my heart warmed when I saw them dancing in our living room.

“I love them so much…” Miya muttered and I smiled softly at my best friend leaning against his side. I got out my phone so that I could take a video of my dad spinning my mom around.

“They’re the best parents that I could have ever wished to get. They’re basically your parents too since yours suck ass.” He just laughed at me putting his arm around my shoulders with a small smile on his face.

“I’d rather them just be my uncles thanks. That would be creepy. As much as I joked a few years ago about them being my mom and dad. Mine are okay it’s just that I wish that they took the time to know me more than they actually do.” I smiled lovingly at my best friend running my finger around the bridge of his nose booping it lightly. I watched his sea green eyes widened in surprise at the sudden attack when he just laughed at me.

“You can’t sneak up on me like that!” He whined and I laughed at him swatting him with my spatula that had used to cook the vegetables for the frittata.

“You do it to me all the time!” I fought back and he just cackled with laughter, that delicious sound that always lit me up from the inside.

“That’s because you’re usually spacing out when I do it and that’s the only way to possibly bring you back.” He reminded me and I sighed running a hand through my hair with a small smile on my face. These were the moments when I was reminded of how lucky I was. I got to have two amazing parents that loved me and were proud of me at every moment, an amazing brother even if he didn’t want me to help him out, and most of all the most incredible person in the world to call my best friend. Throughout every changing whirlwind Miya was there for me so that I would make it through okay. I was so grateful for him at every turn that he was there for me with a lightly teasing remark.

“I’m sorry about what I said Saki…” My brother’s voice brought the two of us out of bickering match that we had fallen into and I looked over at him with red-rimmed eyes. I knew that my brother was genuinely sorry about what he had said to me and that he didn’t mean it in the long run. The use of my childhood nickname that he rarely used nowadays as a way of talking to me.

“I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at myself for feeling this anger building up inside of me at every waking moment. The T has been making my emotions act up, it’s been keeping me up at night, that’s not an excuse. You deserve a better brother than me. That’s why I’m going to make you proud when I skate today. I’m not skating to a traditional skating song.” I blinked at him in confusion and he just shook his head with a small smirk on his face.

“That’s the only thing I’m telling you about my skate. You’re not getting anything else out of me and you’re going to have to just wait until this afternoon. I left my post for just a second to hug my brother tightly.

“It’s okay Haru. I know that you’re going through a lot right now that I couldn’t even begin to understand. You’re going to be okay though. You know why?” He shook his head against my shoulder and I just kissed his forehead gently.

“Because I’ll always be there for you. Even when you’re angry with me and you hate me I’ll still be there for you to support you and love you. I know that I yell at you a lot but it’s only because I care about you and I hate being left in the dark about what you’re going through. I’ll try to tone it down a thousand though.” He just laughed softly against my shoulder as I ran my hands through his hair with a small smile on my face.

“Carla, switch to my calming Smashing Pumpkins playlist.” I told the AI sitting on the other side of the counter as the music changed and I just lightly swayed with my brother.

“I love you Sakura. I could never, ever truly hate you. I might say so in a fit of rage against this medication that I’m on now but it will never be genuine.” Haru’s golden eyes looked at me and I saw the rawness and general vulnerability that he usually covered up.

“I know that you couldn’t it’s just that sometimes I hate myself because I feel like I should be a better sister…” He shook his head with a small laugh escaping him. He held me closer to him and I could feel the binder through his shirt.

“I think that I got really lucky. I got the best sister in the entire world. I could only ever love you Saki you’ve worked so hard to make everyone proud of you even if you rain yourself into the ground. I’ll always be here to help even if I can be a bit of a lazy ass when it comes to the restaurant business.” I squeezed my brother tightly. It had been so long since he had last hugged me this tightly and damn if I wan’t going to savor every second of it.

“I love you Haru, so much. You’re my brother and the only one that I’ve got and I want you to remember that I happen to believe that you’re perfect just the way that you are. I want you to remember this always that no matter what you’re older sister, by ten minutes, will always love you.” I threw in the age gap between the two of us to lighten the mood and he just scoffed at me a little bit with a teasing smile on his face.

“You might be older but just because you were born first doesn’t mean that you got all the brains or the good looks.” He joked and I lightly shoved his side with a small laugh looking over at Miya who was holding up his phone.

“I had to record that because you so often over analyze the hell out everything Sakura. This way you’ll have video evidence of your brother saying that he loved you, hugging you, and telling you that you were the perfect big sister.” I looked up at my best friend gratefully when my phone buzzed and I saw the video sitting there.

“Sakura… this is not your fault okay? You aren’t a bad sister just because I keep losing my temper. It’s my fault if anything and I’ve said so many mean things to you…” I lightly ruffled my brother’s curls with a small smile on my face.

“I’ve said just as many back to you, we’re siblings that doesn’t mean that we have to get along idiot. I was just over analyzing that you might hate me because I am constantly getting on your case about things that you don’t want to be doing.” He put his arm around my shoulders with a small smirk on his face. I sighed a little bit mentally smacking myself for ever thinking that my brother would hate me. I would do anything to keep my brother happy and healthy. Sometimes even at the expense of my own mental and emotional health.

“Things are going to get better between us. I can’t promise when they are going to be but I do know that they will eventually. It’s been a long hard road for both of us but one day I’ll be able to apologize and actually make it better with more than just words. Need any help?” I shook my head a light teasing glare coming from me.

“You’d just burn it, leave the cooking to the professionals.” I mocked and he sighed heavily muttering that it was just one time that he burned water.

“Once was enough for me to never trust you around a stove again. Now sit your ass down or get out.” Haru sighed before sitting at the table getting out his switch. Miya leaned against my side resting his cheek on my shoulder.

“That went well, don’t you think so?” I nodded my head with a small smile on my face. It had gone better than just about every situation I had played in my head.

“I do think so! I’m sorry for freaking out on you earlier. I think that slowly but surely we’ll get better.” He nodded his head with a small smile squeezing the hand that was getting a sheet pan out for the potatoes.

“This kind of thing doesn’t just wake up and one day it’s different you can get along now. I think you know that just doesn’t work. To have a good relationship it takes effort from both sides consistently.” I smiled sadly at my best friend thumbing his cheeks lightly.

“And now we’re talking about your parents. Do you want to talk about your parents?” He sighed heavily but I could tell that there were some things that he did want to get off of his chest.

“Mostly just that I wish they tried more like Kaoru and Kojiro. They are constantly working together to make sure that you two get along and that you’re both happy. It’s not an easy job but they’ve never complained about it even though they can bicker until the world burns itself out. I just wish that they talked to me more. Not talked at me.” I wound my arms around my best friend’s waist in a tight hug. I always hated his parents, true they’ve never liked me all that much either. Claimed that I was a bad influence on Miya and that I would make an awful girlfriend. True, what did they know? They didn’t even take the time to know their son.

“Sometimes they do disagree about big choices that they want to make about me or Haru. It’s just really, really rare. They have other things that they would much rather get into bickering arguments about. I love them but sometimes it does get annoying. I know that they love each other but when I used to watch sitcoms of loving families I wished that was me.” Miya just lightly laughed a little bit at me nuzzling my nose against his.

“Well you did get one sitcom parental unit as your parents, remember your love of the Dick Van Dyke show?” I laughed openly at the comparison nodding my head since yeah, that was accurate to how my parents were. Constantly playfully bickering with one another when it was obvious how much they worshiped one another and getting stuck in petty disagreements all the time before they made up faster than you could say what happened.

“I still love the DVD show okay, leave that man alone he’s a national treasure from the States.” My best friend just laughed openly at me rolling his sea green eyes at me.

“I caught her rewatching some of the episodes just the other day on her box set of all of them. I watched some of them with her even. That was fun.” Haru mentioned off handedly and I couldn’t help but grin at my brother.

“You’ll have to watch more with me at some point!” He nodded his head with a small smile on his face. The oven dinged and I took out the frittata. It looked perfectly made and smelt just as amazing. Miya looked at his favorite breakfast food nearly drooling and I lightly rapped his shoulder.

“Not yet, you have to let it cool. I already know what you’re thinking and it’s my job to talk you out of it.” Miya sighed pouting a little bit as I carried my potatoes over to the oven with a small smile on my face washing my hands one more time.

“It looks delicious Sakura. You really did come through for brunch yet again. I’m proud of you.” My mom doted on me and I couldn’t help but grin at him.

“I just did what I always do, I had to stop this one from digging in already.” My dad looked at the frittata with a smile.

“It looks amazing flower, great job. I can tell that you put a lot of love into this.” He told me and put his arm around my shoulders.

“Are you nervous about skating today love?” My mom asked me looking me over just making sure that my brother and I had patched things up.

“I’m not that nervous. It’s mostly just excited butterflies in my stomach than anything else. How about skater boy? How you doing?” I asked Miya and he just leaned his head against my side with a small smile on his face.

“I’m good, I’m looking forward to skating my heart out and doing my best. I’m not going to let what my parents and I have been fighting about get in the way of doing what I love.” He reminded me and I pounded his fist with my left hand.

“I hope that you bring your A-game Haru, I’m going to totally whip the floor with you.” He lightly threatened and I could see the spark of competition in my brother’s eyes.

“Oh it’s so on cat boi, you’re going down.” I sighed heavily shaking my head with a small smile on my face at my two favorite boys in my life.

“Save it for the competition, I can’t handle this much toxic masculinity in my life.” My mom lightly threatened and I couldn’t help but chuckle at the two of them. My dad carried the watermelon salad and frittata to the table.

“I already have to put up with the oaf gorilla I don’t need to deal with the two of you.” I smiled softly at the three of them shaking my head.

“I can’t help you mom, I’ve tried to get them to stop. They just constantly try and pick fights with each other. It’s the teenage boy in both of them.” Miya patted the seat next to him that I easily took without needing to think about it too hard.

“Well they can keep it to themselves or to the competition later.” He complained and I couldn’t help but laugh softly at my mom as the potatoes finished and my dad gave them our coveted fork test.

“These look good to go!! I’m proud of you two for getting breakfast ready, I thought that I would have to do it today.” Miya put an arm around my shoulders with a small smile of encouragement. He ran a soothing circle into my shoulder and I positively melted into the touch.

“I always make breakfast on the weekends, it’s part of my job around here. I prefer to help as much as I can. Bon appetite!” I dished everyone their individual portions and Miya sighed at the taste of his favorite breakfast.

“Delicious as always.” He praised and I felt my cheeks turn a bright pink color. I did that. I made him love food as much as he does now. That idea alone made me proud of myself because when I had met him he had been so terrified of food and weight gain that it squandered how food should be. Food should be delicious and it always made me light up from the inside when he told me that my food was.

“I’ll be the judge of that…” Haru tried one of our potatoes that we had both made and he gave me a double thumbs up his bracelet jingling around his wrist.

“Another home run sis, this will definitely fuel us up for competing later. Are you ever going to tell me what you’re skating to?” I shook my head with a small smirk on my face. If he wasn’t going to tell me than I’d prefer to surprise him as well.

“You’re going to have to wait and see what I’ve got planned. You have not told me what you were doing either so in general I do not have to tell you.” Miya’s comforting circles continued and I couldn’t help but melt into the touch of affection.

“Touché Saki, touché. Are you two going to study tomorrow? Can you help me too?” He whined and I nodded my head. History was one of the few areas in school where I outdid him in terms of grades.

“You did a really, really good job on breakfast today Sakura. Thank you very much.” My mom thanked me with a patient smile on his face.

“It’s no problem really. I love cooking and if my cooking can make people happy that’s all that I want.” I glanced over at Miya who had a contended smile on his face around a mouthful of watermelon salad. I’ll keep cooking for you, introducing you to new flavors and dishes. Just please, don’t move forward without me.

“That was why I opened the restaurant too, it was to feed this one since he is constantly forgetting about a little thing called quality nourishment.” My mom sighed at him and I couldn’t help but laugh at my parents interacting with each other. I knew that there was nobody in the world who loved one another more than they did.

“That’s why your portions are always so outrageously big you continue to try to make me look fatter than I already am you food pusher.” I laughed at my mom openly shaking my head. For all that my mom protested he was still really, really skinny. Almost scarily so for somebody that had basically all but retired from professional skating after his beef with Adam a few years go. I heard recently that the creep finally wound up in prison and part of me wished that he would rot there for the rest of his life.

“Can you pass me the bread please Haru?” Miya asked my brother bringing me out of my thoughts and he cut a slice of it handing it to me.

“Bread for you, bread for me.” I smiled softly at my best friend as he put some of the honey butter that we bought from the bakery. Most of the brunch was spent just with the three of us with us hyper focused on what was going to happen when we skated this afternoon.

“You’re remarkable quiet sweetheart, are you nervous?” He asked me and I nodded my head with a small smile on my face.

“A little bit. Most of the time I’m just scared that I won’t be able to achieve what I’m going after.” Miya squeezed my hand with a small smile on his face.

“I just want you to do your best out there. I love you Sakura and you’re going to be amazing out there.” My mom reminded me with a small smile on his face. I knew that he was encouraging me but I just wanted to make myself proud and Miya. It might have seemed dumb if anybody really knew why I wanted to skate today but I mostly just wanted show him that I was on the same playing field as he was.

“He’s right flower, you’ve been practicing for over a year now all on your own and even though you were a beginner skater you’ve accomplished a lot in a little amount of time. I know that you can go out there and kick some ass. All three of you can.” My dad reminded me ruffling my hair lightly with a small smile on his face.

“Are we driving you up Miya?” My best friend nodded his head sadly and I sighed a little bit. That already answered my question that had been bothering me for the last few hours, his parents weren’t going to show up.

“They’re watching it on the television at home. At least that’s what they told me, some parents right?” I clenched my fists in sheer rage but his hand squeezed one of mine.

“We’d be glad to take you with us Miya. Then afterwards we’re all coming back here for a celebration!! You are not cooking a damn thing. You already busted your cute butt making us breakfast. Dinner is my job tonight.” My dad teased me lightly and my mom swatted his lower arm lecturing him about being a creep.

“Alright dad, I’ll stay out of your kitchen tonight then. Thanks for everything.” I thanked him and he just hugged me tightly to him.

“I’m so proud of you flower. You’ve been able to do everything and manage your time so well. You’ve been working so hard while maintaining your grades as well. I knew that you could do it if you just put your mind to it. It’s been a lot for you but I know that whatever goal you’re after you’ll achieve it.” He reminded me kissing my forehead lightly before pulling my brother into the hug as well.

“Both of my kids growing up into their own individual people, I couldn’t be prouder of either of you. I know that whatever dream you both have you’ll be able to achieve it by just doing your best out there. I say that all three of you grab your boards because we’ve got a long ride ahead of us.” I nodded my head with a small smile on my face picking up my skateboard.

“Are you going to sit next to me?” I tapped my chin lightly considering Miya’s question with a small thoughtful hum.

“Well gee I don’t know…” He shoved me and I couldn’t help but laugh at my best friend putting my hands into my pockets.

“Of course I’m going to sit next to you, it’s not like I have anything else to during this hour car ride.” My best friend smiled softly at me leaning against my shoulder with a small smile on my face.

“I was just wondering if you’d rather sit with Haru…” My heart warmed at his consideration but I knew that if I sat with my brother with the way that things were right now we’d end up fighting.

“I appreciate the sentiment, thank you for checking with me first. But we really should just keep our distance for right now as much as we can anyways. I think that a majority of this car ride I’m just going to sleep if that’s alright. I’m really tired and slipping into a good food coma.” He smiled softly at me hugging me to him.

“I’ll look after you while you nap. I’ve got my friend the switch so I’ll be totally fine.” He reminded me and I went down the stairs with a small smile on my face. I slid into a booth with Miya next to me while we waited for the rest of my family. Haru came down carrying his board and I saw sloppy signature again on his board.

“Do you think that Reki will get there before us so you can test out your new board?” He asked me sitting down next to me on the other side of me.

“He’s already there! He went there last night to make sure that the board worked. Apparently him and Langa stayed in a hotel.” I heard the familiar bickering about who was going to drive before my mom yanked the keys out of my dad’s hands.

“It would be better if I drove you stupid gorilla you would just get us lost.” I laughed a little bit at my dad and his pout. My dad’s shoulder went around my shoulders with a proud grin.

“How you doing flower power? Need some sleep on the road?” I nodded my head and he pushed a lock of pink hair behind my ear.

“I’m going to sit by her.” Miya was already racing my brother to get the car and my mom sighed muttering teenage boys.

“You gotta love them mom, I call dibs on the way way back!” I climbed into the backseat of the car with a small smile on my face. Miya climbed next to me and put his arm around my shoulders as I snuggled into his side taking off my shoes.

“Any music requests?” My mom asked and I heard my dad tell him nothing too loud right as I started drifting off to sleep. I slept on Miya’s shoulder throughout the whole ride until he lightly shook my shoulder.

“Good afternoon sleeping beauty! We’re here, oh shit here comes Reki. He looks excited brace yourself he’ll probably start talking a mile a minute.” I opened my ruby eyes yawning a little bit but I saw my favorite redhead.

“Reki!” I exclaimed climbing out of the car to give him a tight hug. The bubbly redhead instantly hugged me back just as tightly.

“There’s my favorite kiddo, I’ve got your new board right here!! Check it out!!” I looked at the light blue board in front of me turning it upside down as tears came to my eyes.

“Reki…” On the bottom of the board the Fly By Night owl stared back at me. It made me feel verklempt with emotion that was riding way too high for this situation.

“That is so badass! Oh my god, the slime ball actually managed it.” Reki yanked lightly on the hem of Miya’s hoodie glaring half heartedly.

“I thought that we were past the oh he’s a slime phase.” He impersonated my best friend’s voice and I saw the stadium in front of me that looked terrifyingly intimidating.

“You can do it Sakura. If I can do it then so can you.” My brother reminded me lightly and I looked at my new board seeing a lack of foot grips on it.

“I’ve upgraded you!! You won’t need those foot grips anymore I should have taken them off way earlier.” Reki rubbed the back of his neck a little bit and I could see the excitement in his eyes when I was able to ride my new board just as well as my old one.

“Thank you Reki, so much. I don’t think that I’ll ever find a way to repay you.” He smiled brightly at me and I saw the strong and quiet Langa who was looking at the atmosphere around him.

“The board looked good. You did a great job.” He praised me and I gave him a thumbs up. My mom led my brother, Miya, and me into the stadium and got us all signed in. It was loud and extremely chaotic inside but I just put on my headphones and tuned out the rest of the world through the sounds of Rush.

“Hey, I’m up next. Come and watch! Your brother is right after me.” Miya took my hand shaking me out of my nervousness. He led me through and I saw the ramps that I would be skating on.

“Our next contestant is quite a promising one, 14 year old, Miya Chinen!!” The announcer exclaimed and my best friend grinned at me waving a little bit. I watched as he stood at the top of the ramp and the obstacle course that we would be skating.

“I decided a long time ago that I was going to skate to a song if I ever got this far. I’ve learned a lot through the person that got me into this band and they opened my heart to a whole new world of experiences.” He explained to the audience and I heard the familiar sounds of “Limelight” play across the room. I felt tears erupt in my eyes and I couldn’t keep the sob past my teeth.

“You idiot… you can’t just do this to me and expect me to ever feel good enough for you…” My brother lightly thwacked me upside the head.

“You should be calling yourself an idiot for even thinking such a ridiculous thing. He chose this because he loves you. He changed your life and brought laughter into it. You changed his life by bringing food, comfort, affection, and family into his.” As Geddy’s vocals started to ring across the arena I couldn’t help but marvel at how amazing of a skater my best friend/skateboarding teacher really was. I knew that he was good but before now I had never known what his skating would look like when you put it to music, especially not to Rush.

“This song actually really fits him when you think about it. A child prodigy at skating from too young of an age, put into the spotlight and forced to do things that no child ever should have to do. He had to put up walls around himself until you came into his life and told him that was no way to live.” My brother noted and I couldn’t help but bury my face into my brother’s side. He just wrapped his arms around me as I continued to watch Miya’s skate.

“I can’t believe that he did this for me… he didn’t have to pick Rush… he could have skated to anything.” My brother laughed at me a little bit lightly pulling on my cheek as I tried to bat his hands away from me.

“Maybe this is the way that he thought of to tell you that he wants to be more than friends with you? That he loves you?” He noted and my eyes widened as I looked at my best friend out there skating his best. Could that really be what he’s trying to tell me? Everything seemed to add up in my head. All the touches, the flirting, the constant need to look after me and make sure that I’m okay… all of it was trying to tell me in his own way that he loved me.

“And she finally gets it nearly two years later…” I shoved my brother’s side with a small smile on my face shaking my head at him.

“Well, what do you want from me? He’s gorgeous, and I’m just me.” I gestured to my hoodie, shorts and leggings. He laughed at me shaking his head lightly tutting at me.

“And to him that’s more than enough to be remarkable.” I rolled my eyes with a small smile on my face. This boy was going to be mine by the end of the day, I swear it.

“Alright, my turn, better take notes because I’m about to kick this competitions ass to the curb.” My brother bragged and I blinked owlishly as Miya came over to stand by me nervously avoiding my gaze.

“You were amazing! I was totally surprised when you pulled Limelight out. Why-Why did you do that?” He sighed a little bit running his hand through his helmet hair that he had now.

“I was trying to tell you something earlier, when your dad came in and interrupted us. But it can wait! I don’t want you to miss your brother’s skate.” He quickly shifted topics and I watched as my brother got to the top of the ramp.

“I’ve been skating since I was really little. My parents have always joked that I was born riding a board. But they couldn’t always take me when I wanted to go around the neighborhood. That job was left to my amazing older sister who has always been there for me. Even when I yelled at her or she got under my skin, even when we can’t seem to get along no matter what we do, she’s always been the person that’s believed in me the most. The one with the most encouragement that I would succeed. This skate is for her.” He explained and I heard the soft tones that I was so familiar with at this point from all the times that I had to listen to Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness in the car. He smiled at me his eyes lighting up like little stars as he began to skate to the quiet song that I had grown up loving. The tears that trickled down my face were ones of infinite happiness. He had chosen this song with the purpose of me knowing that no matter what he would always be there for me. Even when I yelled at him and he yelled back, that all together meant nothing. We were siblings, we were going to fight and we were going to disagree about things often. But that also meant that we would make it through to the next day and continue to love one another as much as we did.

“He planned this out with a purpose that you’ve probably already figured out. He’s amazing…” Miya mentioned and I nodded my head as he handed me a bag of tissues that were in his hoodie pocket with a small smile on his face.

“He really, really is. I know that if he gets the offer that he’ll turn it down. This was so that I would know how much I mean to him. Is my dad recording this?” I looked up seeing a familiar mop of green hair and saw the video camera in his hands. My mom was sniffling and his eyes were red-rimmed. We could all be proud of Haru today because he had come out on top. Through everything that he had been through he had remained my overly confident younger brother. I would always do everything within my power to make sure that he knew how proud of him I was. I hugged my brother so tightly to me that I could hear him mutter too tight in a higher pitched and more breathy tone.

“Deal with it you asshole, you just made me bawl my eyes out.” I lightly flicked his forehead with a small loving smile on my face bouncing back and forth on my heels.

“We will now be doing the tryouts for the girls nationals team!!” I took a deep breath going up to the platform and suddenly the bright stage lights just hit me and I blinked at the onslaught of light.

“While most of my competitors have been skating for their entire lives that wasn’t possible for me. I had bad balance and bad visual spacial skills for a majority of my life so it made my balance flighty and weird. I learned how to rollerblade so that I could keep with my brother and so that somebody could go skating with him. I was lucky enough to have an utterly amazing teacher to educate me on the proper way to board. My teacher became my best friend and he’s the prime reason why I’m standing here today. He taught me everything I know not just about skating but how to make real genuine friends.” I explained my backstory of how I had gotten here today feeling tears come to my eyes but quickly blinking them back when I heard the intro guitar to the song that I had picked. I saw my brother laugh a little bit with a fond sparkle of I should have known written all over his face as I went down the ramp. I picked my song out of consideration for comfort over anything else since I knew that I would be nervous about what would happen if I got this far and had a sensory overload.

“Begin a day with a friendly voice, a companion unobtrusive plays that song that’s so elusive and the magic music makes your morning mood. Up on your way hit the open road there is magic at your fingers for the spirit ever lingers undermining content in your happy solitude….” Hearing Geddy’s voice along with the clapping of the entire stadium as if they had known exactly why I had picked this song above all the others lit me up inside. It hit me that a majority of these people were probably Rush fans. I was probably surrounded by the biggest congregation of Rush fans in my entire life. I did a rail slide down the ramp and landed it with practiced ease flying through the air as I went up the ramp. The wind in my hair had always been one of the countless reasons that I had loved skating so much over the last three years. It was something that could ground me but it could also compel me to do crazy things. Going through my entire routine and hearing the roaring applause from the audience, especially from the fourth row in the middle where I saw Reki, Langa, my dad, and my mom. I grinned broadly at my found family and I waved to the camera.

“That was quite the show that you just did. You will get your results after every other girl goes. Good job.” The head judge told me and I knew that even if I didn’t make it, I would still be immensely happy. I had achieved what I had come here to do. I had done my entire routine that I had practiced for so long and I had performed on the same course that Miya did. I was now on his level and I could meet him where he stood. I ran into my best friend’s arms and he caught me easily his bright beaming smile spinning me around tightly in his arms.

“I love you…” I admitted for the first time in three years and I saw his eyes widen with a small smirk on his face.

“I can’t believe that you beat me to it Sakura, don’t you know that there’s a line for these kinds of things? That the person who’s liked the other for the longest is supposed to confess first?” I blinked at him in confusion.

“How long have you-“ He laughed a little bit nervously rubbing the back of his neck with a small smile on his face and a bright pink blush.

“Since that first time you talked to me about skating…” The sheer shock of the confession caused a surprised laugh to leave me.

“I thought that you hated me back then.” He shook his head at me his sea green eyes making contact with mine I looped my arms around his neck.

“I never hated you, I thought that you were really cute. That’s why I didn’t want to be your friend at first because I thought that somebody as cute as you wouldn’t want to be friends with a moody thing like me.” I laughed brightly at him realizing just how stupid we had both been.

“Idiot…” He smiled softly at me lifting my chin up so that I could look at him, his sea green eyes flowing with emotions.

“Your idiot now, good luck getting rid of me.” He kissed my cheek with a bright pink blush on his cheeks and I heard the snap of a camera.

“Had to commemorate the moment!! You two have been making me nauseous for the last three years running it’s about time that I started to get my revenge.” I flipped my brother off and he just laughed at me.

“I’ll send you the picture and you can make it your new phone wall paper?” He offered me and I nodded my head with a small smile.

“Oh god, no not your wallpaper!” Miya put a hand over his eyes dramatically but I just smiled softly at him shaking my head. I turned my head in his arms so that I could watch the other girls skate. Most of the others definitely had more practice than I did since they were doing it for longer and could do more tricks than I could in their sleep. After all the girls had gone the judges talked amongst one another for a few minutes before they came over the loudspeaker.

“We have reconvened as your judges for the day and have come back with the people that will be on the Japanese Nationals team. This has been a rare year where two boys and one girl will be on our nationals team because a lot of us were blown away by what we saw.” I stiffened in my best friend’s arms and they tightened around me with a small smile on his face.

“That means that you have more of a chance baby!” I felt my cheeks flush at the pet name and he just smirked a little bit.

“I thought that you might like that one.” I lightly swatted his shoulder with a small sigh. I couldn’t help but have this nearly palpable nervous energy.

“For the boys we have chosen Miya Chinen and Haru Sakurayashiki.” My brother’s eyes widened and I cheered loudly for him.

“You did it Haru! You get to go on to the national team!” I encouraged him and he looked over at the stage as I retracted from Miya’s arms.

“Go and get your plaque my love.” I told him lightly pushing him forward and laughed a little bit when he adorably stumbled forward and turned to glare half heartedly at me.

“For the girls we were pleasantly surprised by one of them. Miss Sakura Nanjo, while not the most technically advanced is clearly passionate and wants to be better than those around her. She loves the sport clearly so she will be our girl to move onto the Japanese nationals team.” My eyes widened. Why had they picked me out of all the girl’s that were clearly more capable than me? I wasn’t that great technically yet and I was still mostly just learning how to do the trickier jumps. I could feel the other girl’s harsh glares sent my direction. I moved forward my knees shaking and Miya quickly handed my brother his plaque before helping me up to the podium.

“They picked you because even though the other girls were all technically very skilled they lacked the passion that you skate with. If you need me to speak personally with any of them than I will be glad to.” I smiled softly at my best friend as I took my plaque from the lead judge.

“I love you.” He told me and my heart threatened to beat right out of my chest. It went flying into the hands of somebody that I knew would take good care of it. I wound my arms around his neck and gave him my first kiss. While there were not fireworks going off in that moment every inch of me felt warm and contented. I felt the zings of happiness and electricity going between the two of us that made me feel all warm and sticky like melted caramel.

[awed-frog]

Do you have any advice for someone who’s really struggling to study? I’m really stressed and demotivated, and I can’t seem to sit down and just study. In my country we only have virtual classes so maybe It has something to do with that, it’s really sad that it’s my first college year and I haven’t attended one single face to face class. Anyway, If you have any kind words I would really appreciate it. Love your blog btw <3

Hey! Thank you for this! And I’m very sorry you feel that way...just know you’re not alone, I think we’re all a bit ‘what’s the point’ rn, and for students (and teachers) this period must suck especially hard. I don’t know exactly what can work for you, but here are a few things that come to mind. I hope you can find something useful!

Have habits and routines. Our days are all over the place, which is not good for motivation or mental health. Instead of procrastinating, feeling guilty, working in a hurry and then feeling even worse, decide on a schedule that works for you. Don’t be too hard on yourself - give it as much time as you need to do the work well, and devote the rest of your day to stuff that makes you feel accomplished and serene (maybe learn or practice a non-screen skill, such as cooking or painting?).

And: at risk of sounding like a yoga mom, don’t forget about your body. Very often stuff like bad mood or exhaustion has physical, not mental, causes. Try to make time for sport - dancing in your underwear, running outside, walking the dog, online pilates, a 7-minute app - and, if you can, a few minutes of meditation, singing or breathing exercises every day. I’d recommend the ‘cardiac coherence’ stuff - lasts about 3 minutes, makes you feel really great. And: remember to stretch, smile and drink water throughout the day. If possible, go outside or have plants and flowers around you.

When it comes to habit, try to understand what kind of person you are and react accordingly. Some people work best when they change cold turkey (new day, new me), while for others it’s better to adjust things more slowly (for instance by moving the alarm clock forward five minutes every week or two). If you’re the second type, a method like Pomodoro could work well to organize your work schedule. 

Have pretty things. Try switching to ink or coloured pens, have nice stationery, organize your Word documents so they’re neat and tidy, use candles, plants, ‘good mood’ incense - whatever makes you feel your work has meaning and worth.

Try background music. Some people work better with noise, and you can find all kind of noises online, from stations to coffee shops to purring cats. Others like classical music. For me, what works is video game music, which is designed to keep you alert and focused while being unobtrusive.

Try to keep your workspace as similar as possible to a ‘real’ workspace. No stack of dirty mugs and plates, no abandoned pajama bottoms. If you can manage it, start your day as if you were actually going outside - dress for actual human company, put on make-up if you like to - and remember to prepare your desk the night before: textbooks, charged laptop, notebooks, water bottle, possibly a diary or a motivational quote or anything you find useful.

If it helps, study with friends or classmates. Have video meetings, chats or shared Google docs and work together. Rant with people who’re going through the same thing, but also find a way to help one another. If you live with flatmates or family members, maybe you can find a moment to work together on your separate things? Dad does admin, mom prepares a work presentation, you do your homework and that’s ‘work time’ for everyone?

Divide your tasks. Make clear lists of what you have to do - as detailed as possible (not: shakespeare essay, but: 1. read book, 2. write essay, 2b. introduction and so on) and pay attention to when the stuff is due, either writing it down in agendas or post-its or creating alerts on your phone. Some people also like the square of doom (you know, that ‘important + urgent’, ‘important + non urgent’ thingy).  

Keep track of what you’re doing if you find it helps you. There are good apps for this, or you can use a nice journal or an Excel sheet. Track whatever you want - minutes of study, words learned, tasks accomplished...a favourite of mine is ‘a time logger’, which can track your entire day. When I was in uni, it made me realize I was working a lot more than I thought, and reaching daily goals kept me motivated.

Rethink your internet consumption, especially news, TV shows and social media. Try having periods where you go off-screen whenever you need a break. Stuff like, ‘no TV before 6 pm’ or ‘no tumblr on weekdays’ can automatically make you a lot less stressed and a lot more productive. 

You can also decide to modify the way you engage with these things. For instance, if your studies involve a language, you could watch only TV shows in [language], or turn on [language] subtitles, or you could switch to Buzzfeed [country]. If you like IG, pinterest or tumblr, try having a separate ‘weekday’ account which is about healthy escapism and/or accountability: landscapes and poetry instead of fandom content, or a personal blog about your day - use the right tags and connect with others who’re going through the same thing.    

Imagine you’re teaching someone. I’m guessing you’re passionate about your subject, so turn your study sessions into imaginary conversations. Teaching a lesson (or making a speech) is often the best way to see what you understand, what you need to work on, and what you’re interested in learning more about.

Websites like b-ok can help you find books about your subject (or not) - possibly stuff you’re not actually compelled to read, but which sounds interesting nonetheless. Broaden your horizon, discover different stuff, and sooner or later you’ll find yourself making connections between the exciting stuff you’re basically reading for fun and the actual subject you’re studying.

And: remember why you’re studying this. What are you passionate about? Why did you fall in love with your subject? Why are you studying it? Sometimes we have to endure a few boring classes to get to the good part, and that’s okay.

And finally: visualize the future. The world will get better, and at some point you’ll be glad you’ve spent a few (or many) hard and boring hours getting your degree. What are you going to do after this? Make a ‘future’ board, write a fake Wikipedia article about yourself, give a Nobel or graduation speech, give a pep talk to your (imaginary) future children about the hardships you faced on Zoom and how you overcame them to become the mom they know and love. Whatever works, no matter how ridiculous or narcissistic or far-fetched is a good thing!

I hope this helps! Remember to remain calm and positive, and talk to yourself as if you were talking to a child or a best friend. Less You suck and the world is going to end and more Yes, you didn’t do great today, but we can always do better tomorrow, it’s okay to have an off day! Uni is hard enough under any circumstances, and right now...do your best and resist the bait of dark thoughts: we will get through this, and everything will be alright. It’s how it works.

[chelsfic]

Trustfall Part 2 - August Walker/Reader - Mission: Impossible Fallout fanfic

Image: Stock image of multiple locks on a door beside an image of Henry Cavill with scruff and mustache and a curly lock of hair falling over his forehead. The Henry pic came up in a Google image search, but I think it should be credited to: @kinghenryviii-i-am

A/N: You’ll notice from some details (references to dollars, stores, elementary school) that this fic is set in the U.S., not in London. I felt it would be more authentic for me to write within my own frame of reference rather than try to manhandle English colloquialisms and such. You can think of it as AU. Or, I can just admit that I’m a bit lazy. Either way I really hope it doesn’t take you out of the plot.

P.S. I’ve never had a plan in my entire life. Somehow, this is the Home Depot episode of Trustfall. Enjoy!

Part One

***

You make up the guest room because that’s what you do when you have a guest. Never mind that the guest is a (former?) terrorist...a double agent and a traitor. Never mind that you don’t strictly want him here and he’s less of a guest and more of a...passive captor. Never mind all that. Making the bed with fresh sheets and putting out clean towels is what you do when you have...a guest.

“So...,” you gesture to the open doorway. The same doorway where you stood frozen, three weeks ago, while he pointed a gun at you. The memory rises like an unwanted specter before your eyes and you need to take a steadying breath before you can go on. “This will be your room. Th-there’s a bathroom attached. The linen closet is just across from you if you need more towels or blankets. I had an extra toothbrush so I put that on the sink for you….a-and the kitchen is downstairs just across from the living room if you g-get hungry…”

You’re rambling and this really is absurd. The bastard may be paying you but there is no reason you have to be nice to him. It’s like your brain is short-circuiting. You hate him for what he did to you and for making you feel scared in your own home. But you’ve never had it in you to seek out conflict when you find it so much simpler to take the high road and be able to live with yourself as a “nice person.” It’s a dysfunction. You should probably see a therapist about it. Or hit him. Maybe you should hit him. 

In an effort to assert yourself you add, “And keep out of my room. And my office downstairs. I’m not agreeing to you having access to every inch of my personal space.” 

The effort is somewhat diminished when you spy the unreadable, hard expression on his face and tack on a “please” to the end of your demand. Damn it.

“Of course,” Walker smiles and how can it be allowed for him to look so boyish and charming? He’s a criminal! “This is still your home, Y/N.”

You don’t know what to say to that. It sure doesn’t feel that way.

***

It’s amazing how quickly you can become accustomed to the most bizarre changes. Before you know it a  week has passed. Walker...August...keeps to himself in his room. He’s gone out a few times, always at odd hours. Sometimes he’s not back yet when you wake up in the morning. But for the most part he’s just...there. All the time.

You’ve spent every night since he came here laying in bed with your hands fisted in the blankets and your eyes locked on your door. His room is just on the other side of your bedroom wall and you can sometimes hear the muffled noises of him moving around at night. So far he’s respected your request that he not invade your space more than necessary but that can’t last, can it? You find yourself mentally reliving those terrible moments. The cold apathy in his eyes as he stood over you. The false concern in his words before he pulled the trigger. Why would he say he was sorry? If he was sorry...if he’d cared he wouldn’t have done what he did.

In the mornings, you feel tired, wrung out. This can’t go on. You’re due back at work on Monday and you can’t teach a class of second graders on no sleep. Friday afternoon you drive to the hardware store and purchase a sliding lock kit for your bedroom door. August is in the kitchen when you get home. He watches you set your bag on the kitchen table and remove the contents. 

You look up at him feeling absurdly guilty. You force yourself to square your jaw and look him in the eyes, “It’s for my bedroom...I can’t...I can’t sleep at night.”

August’s eyes flash with emotion before he carefully schools his features. He’s been trying to remain as unobtrusive as possible. For all he manipulated you into this situation he isn’t a sadist--he doesn’t want you to feel afraid. He just doesn’t know what he can possibly do to reassure you. 

He nods sensibly and comes over to inspect your purchase. It’s a simple sliding lock like the kind you’d see on a public restroom stall. He picks up the package turning it over in his hands. He’s standing right next to you, looming, and you’re aware again of his massive presence. You can feel the heat of his body and you can smell the scent of him. He smells like fresh soap and gun oil. You’re suddenly aware that he’s wearing casual clothes, a t-shirt and jeans and thick, white socks. The outfit makes him seem so normal, so human. Without your permission you feel your body sway toward him like a mosquito flying toward an electrified lamp. Why are you attracted to something that can hurt you?

“Smart,” he remarks, setting down the package, “but this type of lock won’t do much to keep out someone who’s determined.”

“What?” you ask sharply with a look of suspicion. Surely he must realize the lock is meant to keep out *him.* From the apologetic look he flashes you, you can tell that he does know. So why is he telling you this?

“Why don’t we head back to the store and find something more heavy duty?” he suggests.

***

Walking through Home Depot with August Walker at your side pushing a big, orange shopping cart is surreal. There’s no way you can forget who you’re with either because he draws attention. He’s tall, muscled and striking; people’s eyes are drawn to him like magnets. You wonder how he ever got by working under cover. 

He swings down aisle after aisle with a purposeful stride that leaves you nearly tripping over your crutches to keep up. When you reach the aisle with locks, doorknobs and other odds and ends he selects a heavy metal deadbolt from the wall display and tosses it into the cart.

He turns to you, looking doubtful, “Do you have a power drill at home?”

“Err...no,” you reply sheepishly.

He moves on: screws, drill, drill bits, a hole saw. Then he’s leading you to the back of the store and down an aisle lined with different style doors. You hook your hand into the crook of his elbow to slow him down.

“August!” you exclaim, practically out of breath trying to keep up with him. “I don’t need a new door.”

“Yes, you do,” he says simply and turns back to display. He selects a heavy steel door that looks more suitable for a jail cell than your bedroom.

“That’s hideous!” you snort, forgetting your anxiety and nerves.

August huffs out a laugh and shakes his head, “It’s secure.”

When the cashier rings everything up the total comes to over six hundred dollars. You widen your eyes and reach into your pocketbook with trepidation. You just don’t have that kind of extra money. August pulls out his wallet and hands over a stack of hundreds without batting an eye. You stare at him in shock and he just shakes his head as if it’s nothing. You are going to have a talk about household expenses. 

***

You watch him hang the new door, greasing the hinges and testing the swing of it opening and closing. You’re perched on the end of your bed and he’s standing in the doorway wearing a tool belt and changing out the bit in his drill to start making the hole for the deadbolt. You let yourself enjoy this bizarre, peaceful moment. Watching him do home repair is so...oddly calming. August could be your handyman or...your husband. 

But...he’s not, you remind yourself. No, this man is the reason you need a steel door installed in your bedroom in the first place. The reason you can’t sleep at night, the reason you have nightmares that cause you to wake up with tears in your eyes and a sob in your throat. You can’t--you cannot forget that. 

August finishes up installing the lock and the doorknobs. He takes his time tightening the final screws and checking that the lock slides effortlessly into position. As he fiddles with these adjustments he watches you from the corner of his eyes. You’re seated on the bed with your good leg tucked underneath you, chin resting on your palm and paying attention to everything he’s doing. Your posture is looser than he’s seen it since his arrival and he feels a rush of warmth in his chest that he can’t identify.

 All he knows is he hates seeing the flash of fear in your eyes every time he catches you unaware. He hates seeing how tired you are in the mornings. And he really, really hates the muffled sounds of sobs that come from your bedroom late at night. He wants you to feel safe again. He knows he robbed you of that feeling. When he came here a week ago it was with the calculating intention of taking advantage of the damage he’d done and forcing you into a position of being at his mercy. But since he’s been living with you and witnessing the consequences of everything he’s done all he feels is an unfamiliar guilt eating away at his stomach and making him feel like worse than vermin. 

He swings the door closed and twists the lock into place with a satisfying click. He turns to you with a smile and a feeling of accomplishment that he hasn’t felt in a long time. 

“There,” he says, twisting the lock again and opening the door so that you don’t feel trapped with him in your bedroom. “Now you’re safe.”

Tag List:

@thorins-queen-of-erebor @viking-raider @onceuponathreetwoone @angelic-kisses13 @afangirldaydreams

[chockfullofsecrets]

Bedridden

Rating: Gen

Summary: Toshinori is getting a little twitchy after being forced into an afternoon of bed rest, but a visit from his successor cheers him up much more than expected.

Wordcount: 2098

A/N: oof, it’s been a while... I promise you guys that there’s still so much fic I want to write, but I’m really not up to it right now. Still, I figured I wasn’t the only one who could use a pick-me-up, so here’s a bit of an older idea inspired by this.

There was so much worse that had happened to him, Toshinori thought wryly, than being confined to an infirmary bed for a few hours.

Unfortunately, that didn’t make it any easier to calm himself and relax as Recovery Girl had specifically ordered him to. As he lay flat on his back, a thin sheet draped over his legs and feet propped up on the metal frame in the only way that the bed could comfortably accommodate him, watching the clock tick past minute by painful minute felt like one of the tensest moments of his life.

His doleful contemplation continued - what if these hours of forced rest became more frequent, with teaching classes and doing what little hero work he could starting to chafe at the limits of his body? Was this all he had to look forward to? Stumbling to the teacher’s lounge and being met with demands of rest and recovery and obsolescence? Grading papers in a dark room to the background noise of students excitedly scuffing their way down the halls -

Ah, here came one of the scufflers now. Toshinori let his head loll sideways at the sound of sneakers against tile, trying to smile as he cleared his throat in preparation to tell whoever it was that Recovery Girl had gone off to oversee some third-years’ extra training.

A head of forest green hair popped around the doorway, and he felt his smile expand into something just a little realer. “Midoriya, my boy!”

“All Might!” his protege cheered softly, scooting cautiously into the room. “Hi! Ah - is Recovery Girl around?”

“No - wait, are you hurt? Sit down, I’ll go find her-”

“No, no!” Midoriya waved his arms frantically at Toshinori’s attempt to get up. “I’m completely fine, I promise!” Arms still half extended, he looked guiltily away in a manner that would have made Toshinori doubt him if the boy wasn’t so bad at lying. “I just didn’t want her to scold me for coming down here - I had to check - are - are you hurt?”

Toshinori took one look at those wide, worried eyes and had to turn away to stare at the ceiling instead. “No more than usual,” he reassured boldly. “Recovery Girl is just being cautious - in fact, I feel as if I could spring up and fight someone right now!” Himself, in particular, for concerning his students, but Midoriya didn’t need to hear that.

“Oh - oh, good!” Midoriya proclaimed unconvincingly. Toshinori looked over again to see the boy rocking nervously on his red-clad feet, each forward swing inching him a little closer to the end of Toshinori’s bed. “Though you really shouldn’t do that, haha, because you’d have to leave the infirmary and go outside to find a villain and I think Recovery Girl would be really mad-”

He was getting perilously close to Toshinori’s bare feet. With an instinct that was half heroic reflex and half a very unheroic need to protect that particular part of his body, Toshinori squirmed a little further back on the bed and tried to yank his feet unobtrusively off the railing to the safety of his blanket.

No such luck - at the slight movement, Midoriya sprang forward and wrapped a gentle hand around each of his ankles, pressing them back down to the railing. The boy’s reflexes had improved considerably since receiving One For All and starting at UA, Toshinori noticed, proud and annoyed. He was getting far too good at grabbing things. “Sorry, sorry! I just don’t want you to hurt yourself like last time!” A gentle pat to his ankles. “Hold still!”

Ah, last time. He and Midoriya had both been in the infirmary, the only two casualties of USJ that required supervision without needing to go to the hospital, and the boy’s mother had come to collect him. Toshinori had, as usual, been leaning his feet on the bed frame to avoid folding himself accordion-like onto the mattress. Midoriya Inko had walked by him, stumbling a little too close at the sight of her bandaged son, and he’d bent so quickly to move his legs that it had disturbed his healing ribs. He’d been subjected to the fretting of two Midoriyas as he curled in on himself, wheezing, and Recovery Girl had of course given him a strict lecture to follow.

Maybe it was safer this way. Of course Midoriya wouldn’t-

“Are these the acid burns from the time that you kicked Melter and he dissolved half your suit?” Midoriya asked, running a thumb gently up his sole with a disregard for personal space that only happened when he was in analysis mode. Toshinori’s breath caught. Don’t do it, don’t-

“M-my boy-”

“And, oh, this callus - wait, how do you distribute weight in your large form?” Another finger trailing innocently down the side of his foot, Midoriya’s other hand nudging insistently at his toes to stretch his foot for further examination. He scrunched his eyes shut, mouth working in time with the unbearable tingling of his nerves. Don’t laugh, he told himself firmly, he’ll stop in a moment, just hold still-.

“You move like you have all your weight on the balls of your feet, this doesn’t make sense, this space should be-”

What felt like an entire battalion of fingernails scratched softly against the arch of his foot, and Toshinori couldn’t even hope to suppress the string of near-hysterical cackles that escaped him as the boy just kept going.

“M-midoriyaha! AhAAAAHAHA! PLEHEEASE! HAHA! STAHAHAP!”

He was still banging a fist ineffectually against the bedcovers when he was released seconds later, coughing lightly to drag air back into his lung. Midoriya was gaping at him, utterly horrified. “Oh, oh no, I’m so sorry! How could I have done that?”

Tears welled up his eyes as Toshinori continued to wheeze and scrub at the huge grin on his face. “I - I didn’t mean to…”

Hearing the tremor in his words, Toshinori nudged him with his non-tickled foot - the other one was currently curled beneath him and still tingling a little - and levered himself upright. “Hey, hey, we’ve talked about the crying!”

“Sorry, s-sorry-”

“Mi - Izuku. I’m here. Tell me what’s wrong, if you can, and I’ll help you.”

Now Midoriya was the one gasping for breath, his voice small and wet. “I - I didn’t want to hurt you, I just wanted to come and see you, and I was worried, and you looked so tired, and I thought I could sit with you for a while and it would help but I just make you feel worse!”

“Whoa, okay, okay. Midoriya, come on - come, look at me! I don’t look worse, do I?”

Midoriya mumbled a protest, but obediently caught Toshinori in his hesitant gaze. Toshinori didn’t shirk it this time, letting him take in the half-shed tears of laughter caught in his eyelashes and the smile still tilting his lips up at the corners. “Y-you’re okay?”

“Ha, of course! I’m still very ticklish, but I don’t think even Recovery Girl could fix that.” He beckoned Midoriya to his side, reaching up to ruffle his wild hair into further disarray before the boy could start in on tears of relief. “I should be the one apologizing for making you worry! Thank you for putting a smile back on my face!”

And this was what he could look forward to, what would make any number of rest hours in the infirmary worthwhile - Midoriya flushing proudly as he smiled, shoulders straightening under the deserved praise. “Of course, All Might! After all, it’s a hero’s job to help others smile! Though maybe not with tickling - wow, I can’t believe you’re ticklish...”

Toshinori laughed awkwardly and ruffled his hair again, quirking an eyebrow as Midoriya’s smile turned mischievous. “You know, when I was little and got hurt, sometimes my mom would tickle me when she patched me up to remind me to be more careful next time. Maybe it’s good medicine for people who work too hard and end up in the infirmary!”

“Oh, really? I’ll have to remember that the next time you end up in here, then.”

“O-oh, you don’t have to-”

“I won’t have to remember for long, right? You end up here a lot - in fact, you’re here right now!” Toshinori teased, tugging at Midoriya’s jacket sleeve to pull him closer.

“Eep - All Might, noho!” Midoriya stumbled back, already giggling, but the firm hold Toshinori had on his sleeve resulted in a quick spin that had Midoriya tumbling belly-up into Toshinori’s lap. “WaitwaitwaHAIT - HEHEHE! THAT TIHICKLES!”

Toshinori tilted his head as he burrowed thin fingers under Midoriya’s jacket to squeeze at his sides, rubbing each thumb gently over a defenseless floating rib. “Oh, does it? Does this tickle less?”

The fingers diverted to spider over his belly, prodding mercilessly at hypersensitive skin through his shirt, and Midoriya shrieked in response. “NOHOHO! MAHAHARE! TICKLES MOHOHOOORE!”

“More tickles? If you say so!” Toshinori’s lap was a pile of flailing, sputtering child, Midoriya rolling frantically from side to ticklish side in vain attempts to find a position that rendered him safe from the onslaught of wiggling attackers. Toshinori didn’t make it easy, using his long reach to keep the boy contained; occasionally, he sacrificed a hand to pin one elbow down and launch a merciless assault under Midoriya’s arm that garnered breathless snorts of laughter loud enough to fill the oppressive infirmary atmosphere. He didn’t have a lot of practice at tickling, admittedly, but even his novice tactics of strumming at a single rib or reaching to where Midoriya’s knees hung off the edge of the bed for a couple clumsy squeezes were enough to render his victim completely helpless.

Midoriya ended up half enveloped in blanket, folding himself to bury his face firmly against Toshinori’s thin chest as he squealed with every single poke. Toshinori couldn’t help chuckling at the promising hero student curled up in a wobbly little ball against him, tugging his hands free and tapping Midoriya’s forehead gently. His other hand went to his shaking back, rubbing in soothing circles to calm him. “Ah, are you all right? You didn’t tell me to stop…”

The back of  the boy’s neck went bright red. “I’m gonna beat you next time,” he mumbled into Toshinori’s shirt.

“Oh? You and these ticklish ribs?” He prodded Midoriya in the appropriate spot and grinned at the resulting string of bubbly giggles.

“I’ll - I’ll bring backup!”

Toshinori flinched a little at the thought of being bombarded with one student determined to tickle him to death, let alone multiple children, but who was he to dissuade Midoriya from embracing teamwork?

“If you say so, my boy.” Patting his back, Toshinori looked up at the clock - it was nearly the time when he could leave without incurring Recovery Girl’s wrath. Surely leaving a few minutes early wouldn’t get him in that much trouble.

He was halfway through shuffling Midoriya off him when the instantly recognizable tap of a cane filtered down the hallway. They both froze.

Thinking quickly and probably poorly, Toshinori scooped Midoriya up and rolled him gently over the side of the bed opposite the door, straightening his blanket and flopping back onto his pillows just as Recovery Girl rounded the corner.

“Ah, Chiyo!” He pretended to stretch, dropping his feet back over the edge of the bedrail and giving her a genuine smile - he did feel much better, now. “I hope your afternoon has been every bit as restful as mine!”

Recovery Girl clucked at him, beckoning him to sit up and be checked over. “Some bed rest has done you good, Toshinori, I see the color’s come back into your cheeks. Maybe you’d look like this all the time if you slept properly at night, you foolish man.”

“I’ll do my best, Chiyo.” She clucked again, cane whapping in an insistent motion against the floor, and Toshinori winced. “I mean I’ll take any recommendation on sleep aids you have to offer, of course! Oh, and I have a visitor! Midoriya?”

Midoriya popped up from the floor, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. He’d managed to straighten his jacket, and his tie… well, that was always a mess. “Sorry, I was just… tying my shoe?”

Recovery Girl regarded his uncertain expression suspiciously. “As long as you didn’t break a finger doing that,” she sighed, “I’m not even going to ask. All right, both of you, get out! Toshinori, I’ll come find you tomorrow.”

Toshinori shivered. “Of course.” Scary.

He slipped his shoes on, bowed to Recovery Girl, and walked out with Midoriya at his side.

[gaysparklepires]

30. First Round

Read on OA3 - Links up Top!

How was I going to find time alone to hunt down J. Jenks, and why did Alice want me to know about him?

If Alice’s clue didn’t prove to be helpful, what could I do to save those I loved?

How were Edward and I going to explain things to Taras and his family in the morning? What if they reacted like Ivan? What if it turned into a fight?

I didn’t know how to fight. How was I going to learn in just a month? Was there any chance at all that I could be taught fast enough that I might be a danger to any one member of the Volturi? Or was I doomed to be totally useless? Just another easily dispatched problem?

So many answers I needed, but I did not get the chance to ask my questions.

Wanting some shred of normality, I’d insisted on staying in the cottage that night. Jacob was more comfortable in his wolf form at the moment; the stress was easier dealt with when he felt ready for a fight. I wished that I could feel the same, could feel ready. He ran in the woods, on guard again.

Once we were back at the cottage, I tried to unobtrusively search to see if there was a chance Alice had left something—anything else that could help me. When my search proved in vain, I returned to the front room of the cottage to ask my questions of Edward. The ones I was able to ask, at any rate; one of the most difficult problems was the idea of trying to hide anything from him, even with the advantage of my silent thoughts.

He stood with his back to me, staring into the fire.

“Edward, I—”

He spun and was across the room in what seemed like no time at all, not even the smallest part of a second. I only had time to register the ferocious expression on his face before his lips were crushing against mine and his arms were locked around me like steel girders.

I didn’t think of my questions again for the rest of that night. It didn’t take long for me to grasp the reason for his mood, and even less time to feel exactly the same way.

I’d been planning on needing years just to somewhat organize the overwhelming passion I felt for him physically. And then centuries after that to enjoy it. If we had only a month left together... Well, I didn’t see how I could stand to have this end. For the moment I couldn’t help but be selfish. All I wanted was to love him as much as possible in the limited time given to me.

It was hard to pull myself away from him when the sun came up, but we had our job to do, a job that might be more difficult than all the rest of our family’s searches put together. As soon as I let myself think of what was coming, I was all tension; it felt like my nerves were being stretched on a rack, thinner and thinner.

“I wish there was a way to get the information we need from Elena before we tell them about everything,” Edward muttered as we hurriedly dressed in the huge closet that was more reminder of Alice than I wanted at the moment. “Just in case.”

“But she wouldn’t understand the question to answer it,” I agreed. “Do you think they’ll let us explain?”

“I don’t know.”

I couldn’t waste one second of time today. There were answers I needed and I wasn’t sure how much time Edward and I would have alone today. If all went well with Taras’s family, hopefully we would have company for an extended period.

“Edward, will you teach me how to fight?” I asked him, tensed for his reaction, as he held the door for me.

It was what I expected. He froze, and then his eyes swept over me with a deep significance, like he was looking at me for the first or last time.

“If it comes to a fight, there won’t be much any of us can do,” he hedged.

I kept my voice even. “Would you leave me unable to defend myself?”

He swallowed convulsively, and the door shuddered, hinges protesting, as his hand tightened. Then he nodded. “When you put it that way... I suppose we should get to work as soon as we can.”

I nodded, too, and we started toward the big house. We didn’t hurry.

I wondered what I could do that would have any hope of making a difference. I was unique, to be sure, and I was a tiny bit special, in my own way—if  having a supernaturally thick skull could really be considered special. Was there any use that I could put that toward?

“What would you say their biggest advantage is? Do they even have a weakness?”

Edward didn’t have to ask to know I meant the Volturi.

“Alec and Jane are their greatest offense,” he said emotionlessly, like we were talking of a basketball team. “Their defensive players rarely see any real action.”

“Because Jane can burn you where you stand—mentally at least. What does Alec do? Didn’t you once say he was even more dangerous than Jane?”

“Yes. In a way, he is the antidote to Jane. She makes you feel the worst pain imaginable. Alec, on the other hand, makes you feel nothing. Absolutely nothing. Sometimes, when the Volturi are feeling kind, they have Alec anesthetize someone before he is executed. If he has surrendered or pleased them in some other way.”

“Anesthetic? But how is that more dangerous than Jane?”

“Because he cuts off your senses altogether. No pain, but also no sight or sound or smell. Total sensory deprivation. You are utterly alone in the blackness. You don’t even feel it when they burn you.”

I shivered. Was this the best we could hope for? To not see or feel death when it came?

“That would make him only equally as dangerous as Jane,” Edward went on in the same detached voice, “in that they both can incapacitate you, make you into a helpless target. The difference between them is like the difference between Aro and me. Aro hears the mind of only one person at a time. Jane can only hurt the one object of her focus. I can hear everyone at the same time.”

I felt cold as I saw where he was going. “And Alec can incapacitate us all at the same time?” I whispered.

“Yes,” he said. “If he uses his gift against us, we will all stand blind and deaf until they get around to killing us—maybe they’ll simply burn us without bothering to tear us apart first. Oh, we could try to fight, but we’ll be more likely to hurt one another than we would be to hurt one of them.”

We walked in silence for a few seconds.

An idea was shaping itself in my head. Not very promising, but better than nothing.

“Do you think Alec is a very good fighter?” I asked. “Aside from what he can do, I mean. If he had to fight without his gift. I wonder if he’s ever even tried...”

Edward glanced at me sharply. “What are you thinking?”

I looked straight ahead. “Well, he probably can’t do that to me, can he? If what he does is like Aro and Jane and you. Maybe... if he’s never really had to defend himself... and I learned a few tricks—”

“He’s been with the Volturi for centuries,” Edward cut me off, his voice abruptly panicked. He was probably seeing the same image in his head that I was: the Cullens standing helpless, senseless pillars on the killing field—all but me. I’d be the only one who could fight. “Yes, you’re surely immune to his power, but you are still new in this life, Beau. I can’t make you that strong a fighter in a few weeks. I’m sure he’s had training.”

“Maybe, maybe not. It’s the one thing I can do that no one else can. Even if I can just distract him for a while—” Could I last long enough to give the others a chance?

“Please, Beau,” Edward said through his teeth. “Let’s not talk about this.”

“Be reasonable.”

“I will try to teach you what I can, but please don’t make me think about you sacrificing yourself as a diversion—” He choked and didn’t finish.

I nodded. I would keep my plans to myself, then. First Alec and then, if I was miraculously lucky enough to win, Jane. If I could only even things out—remove the Volturi’s overwhelming offensive advantage. Maybe then there was a chance... My mind raced ahead. What if I wasable to distract or even take them out? Honestly, why would either Jane or Alec ever have needed to learn battle skills? I couldn’t imagine petulant little Jane surrendering her advantage, even to learn.

If I was able to kill them, what a difference that would make.

“I have to learn everything. As much as you can possibly cram into my head in the next month,” I murmured.

He acted as if I hadn’t spoken.

Who next, then? I might as well have my plans in order so that, if I did live past attacking Alec, there would be no hesitation in my strike. I tried to think of another situation where my thick skull would give me an advantage. I didn’t know enough about what the others did. Obviously, fighters like the huge Felix were beyond me. I could only try to give Emmett his fair fight there. I didn’t know much about the rest of the Volturi guard, besides Demetri…

My face was perfectly smooth as I considered Demetri. Without a doubt, he would be a fighter. There was no other way he could have survived so long, always at the spear point of any attack. And he must always lead, because he was their tracker—the best tracker in the world, no doubt. If there had been one better, the Volturi would have traded up. Aro didn’t surround himself with second best.

If Demetri didn’t exist, then we could run. Whoever was left of us, in any case.

And... if Demetri didn’t exist, then Alice and Jasper could be safe forever. Is that what Alice had seen? That part of our family could continue? The two of them, at the very least.

Could I begrudge her that?

“Demetri...,” I said.

“Demetri is mine,” Edward said in a hard, tight voice. I looked at him quickly and saw that his expression had turned violent.

“Why?” I whispered.

He didn’t answer at first. We were to the river when he finally murmured, “For Alice. It’s the only thanks I can give her now for the last fifty years.”

So his thoughts were in line with mine.

I heard Jacob’s heavy paws thudding against the frozen ground. In seconds, he was pacing beside me, his dark eyes focused on mine.

I nodded to him once, then returned to my questions. There was so little time.

“Edward, why do you think Alice told us to ask Elena about the Volturi? Has she been in Italy recently or something? What could she know?”

“Elena knows everything when it comes to the Volturi. I forgot you didn’t know. She used to be one of them.”

Jacob growled beside me.

“What?” I demanded, in my head picturing the beautiful dark-haired woman at our wedding wrapped in a long, ashy cloak.

Edward’s face was softer now—he smiled a little. “Elena is a very gentle person. She wasn’t entirely happy with the Volturi, but she respected the law and its need to be upheld. She felt she was working toward the greater good. She doesn’t regret her time with them. But when she found Carmen, she found her place in this world. They are very similar people, both very compassionate for vampires.” He smiled again. “They met Taras and his family, and they never looked back. They are well suited to this lifestyle. If they’d never found Taras, I imagine they would have eventually discovered a way to live without human blood on their own.”

The pictures in my head were jarring. I couldn’t make them match up. A compassionate Volturi soldier?

Edward glanced at Jacob and answered a silent question. “No, she wasn’t one of their warriors, so to speak. She had a gift they found convenient.”

Jacob must have asked the obvious follow-up question.

“Elena has an instinctive feel for the gifts of others—the extra abilities that some vampires have,” Edward told him. “She could give Aro a general idea of what any given vampire was capable of just by being in proximity with him or her. This was helpful when the Volturi went into battle. Elena could warn them if someone in the opposing coven had a skill that might give them some trouble. That was rare; it takes quite a skill to even inconvenience the Volturi for a moment. More often, the warning would give Aro the chance to save someone who might be useful to him. Elena’s gift works even with humans, to an extent. She has to really concentrate with humans, though, because the latent ability is so nebulous. Aro would have her test the people who wanted to join, to see if they had any potential. Aro was sorry to see Elena go.”

“They let her go?” I asked. “Just like that?”

His smile was darker now, a little twisted. “The Volturi aren’t supposed to be the villains, the way they seem to you. They are the foundation of our peace and civilization. Each member of the guard chooses to serve them. It’s quite prestigious; they all are proud to be there, not forced to be there.”

I frowned, troubled by this.

“They’re only alleged to be heinous and evil by the criminals, Beau.”

“We’re not criminals.”

Jacob huffed in agreement.

“They don’t know that.”

“Do you really think we can make them stop and listen?”

Edward hesitated just the tiniest moment and then shrugged. “If we find enough friends to stand beside us. Maybe.”

If. I suddenly felt the urgency of what we had before us today. Edward and I both started to move faster, breaking into a run. Jacob caught up quickly.

“Taras shouldn’t be too much longer,” Edward said. “We need to be ready.”

How to be ready, though? We arranged and rearranged, thought and rethought. Have me in full view? Or hidden at first? Jacob in the room? Or outside? He’d told his pack to stay close but invisible. Should he do the same?

In the end, Jacob—in his human form again—and I waited around the corner from the front door in the dining room, sitting at the big polished table. Jacob sat a few chairs from me; he wanted space in case he had to phase quickly.

Though I was glad to have Jacob nearby, it made me feel useless. It reminded me that in a fight with mature vampires, I was no more than an easy target; I didn’t know how to protect myself.

I tried to remember Taras, Kate, Carmen, and Elena from the wedding. Their faces were murky in my ill-lit memories. I only knew they were beautiful, two blondes and two brunettes. I couldn’t remember if there was any kindness in their eyes.

Edward leaned motionlessly against the back-window wall, staring toward the front door. It didn’t look like he was seeing the room in front of him.

We listened to the cars zooming past out on the freeway, none of them slowing.

“I really made everything as difficult as I possibly could, didn’t I?” I murmured, mostly to myself.

“What do you mean, Beau?” Jacob asked, though he was looking towards the front room. Edward’s eyes locked on to me.

“If I had just let Edward and Carlisle change me as soon as I got sick…”

“Beau, love, you can’t know how that would have changed things.” Edward argued.

“But I’d be a full vampire, the Volturi wouldn’t be confused about what I was.” I countered.

“Maybe, but I wouldn’t have stuck around.” Jacob frowned. “I wouldn’t be here with you.”

“But you’d be safe!” I insisted. “They wouldn’t be coming after you or the rest of the pack.”

“Unless Sam changed his mind and attacked the Cullens for breaking the treaty—or if I had gone ballistic.” He frowned, watching me carefully.

“Jake, I can’t see how this is anything but my fault.”

“No,” Jacob and Edward said at the same time, but before they could argue further, we heard the sound we’d been waiting for: the slowing of an engine on the freeway, the tires moving from pavement to soft dirt.

Edward darted around the corner to stand waiting by the door. Jacob and I stared at each other across the table, desperation on our faces.

The car moved quickly through the woods, faster than Charlie or Sue drove. We heard it pull into the meadow and stop by the front porch. Four doors opened and closed. They didn’t speak as they approached the door. Edward opened it before they could knock.

“Edward!” a male voice enthused.

“Hello, Taras. Kate, Elena, Carmen.” Three murmured hellos.

“Carlisle said he needed to talk to us right away,” the first voice said, Taras. I could hear that they all were still outside. I imagined Edward in the doorway, blocking their entrance. “What’s the problem? Trouble with the werewolves?”

Jacob rolled his eyes.

“No,” Edward said. “Not precisely at least. Our truce with the werewolves is stronger than ever.”

A woman chuckled.

“Aren’t you going to invite us in?” Taras asked. And then he continued without waiting for an answer. “Where’s Carlisle?”

“Carlisle had to leave.”

There was a short silence.

“What’s going on, Edward?” Taras demanded.

“If you could give me the benefit of the doubt for just a few minutes,” he answered. “I have something difficult to explain, and I’ll need you to be open-minded until you understand.”

“Is Carlisle all right?” a female voice asked anxiously. Elena.

“None of us is all right, Elena,” Edward said, and then he patted something, maybe Elena’s shoulder. “But physically, Carlisle is fine.”

“Physically?” Taras asked sharply. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that my entire family is in very grave danger. But before I explain, I ask for your promise. Listen to everything I say before you react. I am begging you to hear me out.”

A longer silence greeted his request. Through the strained hush, Jacob and I stared wordlessly at each other. His russet lips paled.

“We’re listening,” Taras finally said. “We will hear it all before we judge.”

“Thank you, Taras,” Edward said fervently. “We wouldn’t involve you in this if we had any other choice.”

Edward moved. We heard four sets of footsteps walk through the doorway. Someone sniffed. “I knew those werewolves were involved,” Taras muttered.

“Yes, and they’re on our side. Again.”

The reminder silenced Taras.

“Where’s your Beau?” one of the other female voices asked. “How is he?”

“He’ll join us shortly. He’s well, thank you.” Edward hesitated, minutely. “He’s taken to immortality with amazing finesse.”

“Tell us about the danger, Edward,” Taras said quietly. “We’ll listen, and we’ll be on your side, where we belong.”

Edward took a deep breath. “I’d like you to witness for yourselves first. Listen—in the other room. What do you hear?”

It was quiet, and then there was movement.

“Just listen first, please,” Edward said.

“A werewolf, I assume. I can hear his heart,” Taras said.

“What else?” Edward asked.

There was a pause.

“What is that other beat?” Kate or Carmen asked. “It’s so slow…”

“Yes, and remember how distinct it is—how different. Now, what do you smell? Besides the werewolf.”

“Is there a human here?” Elena whispered.

“No,” Taras disagreed. “It’s not human… but… closer to human than the rest of the scents here. What is that, Edward? It’s… almost familiar. Like I’ve smelled it before.”

“You have, Taras. But what else can you discern from that scent?”

A pause.

“It’s more human than we are…” Taras said slowly, “but it isstill like us in some ways.”

“Now, please, Taras, pleaseremember to listen. Throw away your preconceived notions.”

“I promised you I would listen, Edward.”

“All right, then. Beau? Please come here.”

My legs felt strangely numb, but I knew that feeling was all in my head. I forced myself not to hold back, not to move sluggishly, as I got to my feet and walked the few short feet to the corner. The heat from Jacob’s body flamed close behind me as he shadowed my steps.

I took one step into the bigger room and then froze, unable to force myself farther forward. I took a deep breath.

I thought I’d prepared myself for their reaction. For accusations, for shouting, for the motionlessness of deep stress.

Taras staggered back a few steps as he looked me over, confusion overwhelming his expression. Kate narrowed her eyes. Elena moved slightly in front of Carmen, holding her arms out protectively.

“Congrats, you freaked out the vampires,” I heard Jacob tease under his breath.

Edward put his arm around me. “Now before you jump to conclusions—” he began.

“What’s going on here, Edward?” Taras exclaimed. “Are you trying to test the Volturi? Carlisle told us you needed to change him!”

“What’s… wrongwith him?” Kate’s narrowed eyes were focused like lasers on me.

“Edward this isn’t wise.” Elena sighed.

“Wait,” Edward said, his voice harder now. “Remember what you hear, what you smell. Now look at what you can see.”

“I see a human!” Taras snapped back.

“Taras,” Edward said sharply, “Listen to how slow his heartbeat is! Think about his scent! And look at him!”

“His heart…” Carmen whispered, peering around Elena’s shoulder.

“He’s not a full vampire, no,” Edward said, answering an unspoken thought and directing his attention toward Carmen’s more open expression. “But he’s half-vampire.”

The four vampires stared at him like he was speaking a language none of them knew.

“Hear me.” Edward’s voice shifted into a smooth velvet tone of persuasion. “Beau was very sick—he was dying. Carlisle didn’t not believe he would survive the transformation. When we finally did attempt to change him…” Edward paused, only for a briefest second, “Something happened. Beau awoke as you see him now. Half-vampire and half-human.”

Taras’s mouth was hanging open, he didn’t seem aware of it.

“Edward, I don’t understand.” Elena was shaking her head.

“You hear his heart, don’t you? It’s too slow for a human. His scent, it’s human and vampire.” Edward said as calmly as he could manage.

“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Elena said. Her shoulders were still stiff, her expression cold.

“Come now, Elena. Open your mind.”

It was Carmen who responded to Edward’s words. She stepped around Elena, ignoring her half-articulated protest, and walked carefully to stand right in front of me. She examined me carefully, taking in every detail.

“Your eyes have always been beautiful,” she said in a low, calm voice, “but now they almost glow with an inner light, don’t they?” And then, as if she could not help herself, she smiled.

“Thank you,” I breathed.

They all glanced at each other at the sound of my voice.

“May I?” Carmen held out a hand toward my face.

I nodded once.

She gently placed a hand on my cheek, her head tilted slightly to the side. “You are warm, but… too cold for a human.” She leaned in closer and sniffed. “Your heart beats, but I smell no blood in you—not blood I would desire, at least.”

“What?” Taras demanded, coming closer. “How?”

Elena approached now. Reaching out her hand, “Please?” she glanced down at my own hand, her expression still cold.

I put my hand in hers, she felt my skin, examined my face. “Ah,” she nodded. “How very strange. But I see now. You are not human, not strictly speaking.”

“How did this happen?” Kate asked, coming closer now.

“When I was dying,” I answered, “I needed a blood transfusion.”

“We had few options,” Edward continued, “So we took a chance on a theory.” His eyes darted over to Jacob.

“You used the werewolf’s blood?” Taras’s voice was shocked.

“Hey.” Jacob grumbled.

“Jacob and his people possess advanced healing, we hoped that this would help Beau—and it did. It made him stronger. But the werewolves’ blood is not compatible with our venom. The end result…” Edward tightened his arm around me.

“A half-vampire.” Elena whispered.

“Will the Volturi accept this?” Taras asked Elena.

“He is no longer a mortal,” Elena replied. “If anything, he would be better adept at hiding the secret of the immortals than any of us.”

“They’d be confused.” Kate added. “But they’d understand, I’m sure.”

“So what is this grave danger you warned us of?” Taras asked. “Surely, you’re concerned about how they will react. The Volturi would be cautious but why—”

“The Volturi have been told that Beau is still human, and they’ve been informed of our friendship with the werewolves.” Edward answered, darkly.

The four vampires looked panicked now.

“The Volturi will not honor a truce with werewolves, Edward.” Elena’s voice was grave. “Believe me, I know.”

“We had intended to send Beau alone to meet with the Volturi. His thoughts are protected from Aro and so Beau could hide the wolves’ involvement.”

“But who would do this to you?” Taras was angry now. “Why?”

“When Ivan saw Beau that day in the mountains,” Edward explained. “Beau hadn’t hunted for several weeks. He appears more human when he doesn’t hunt, and he had Jacob with him.”

Kate hissed, her eyes narrowing to slits. “Ivan did this? To you? To Carlisle? Ivan?”

“No,” Taras whispered. “Someone else…”

“Alice saw him go to them,” Edward said. I wondered if the others noticed the way he winced just slightly when he spoke Alice’s name.

“How could he do this thing?” Elena asked of no one.

“Imagine if you had seen Beau, looking even more human than he does now. Imagine if you knew the Volturi demanded he be changed.” Edward said.

“When Ivan saw me, I was telling Jacob how happy I was that everything worked out—that I could stay in Forks, still be around my human family and friends.”

Taras and Kate’s eyes widened slightly as understanding began to dawn on them. The memory of their mother who refused to let go of her human life bringing pain into their expressions.

“Jacob changed into his wolf form when he sensed Ivan and Ivan didn’t wait for our explanation.” Edward continued.

Taras’s eyes tightened. “No matter what he thought—what he might have felt… You are our family.”

“There’s nothing we can do about Ivan’s choice now. It’s too late. Alice gave us a month.”

Both Taras’s and Elena’s heads cocked to one side. Kate’s brow furrowed.

“So long?” Elena asked.

“They are all coming. That must take some preparation.”

Elena gasped. “The entire guard?”

“Not just the guard,” Edward said, his jaw straining tight. “Aro, Caius, Marcus. Even the wives.”

Shock glazed over all their eyes.

“Impossible,” Elena said blankly.

“I would have said the same two days ago,” Edward said.

Elena scowled, and when she spoke it was nearly a growl. “But that doesn’t make any sense. Why would they put themselves and the wives in danger?”

“It doesn’t make sense from that angle. Alice said there was more to this than just punishment for what they think we’ve done. She thought you could help us.”

“More than punishment? But what else is there?” Elena started pacing, stalking toward the door and back again as if she were alone, her eyebrows furrowed as she stared at the floor.

“Where are the others, Edward? Carlisle and Alice and the rest?” Taras asked.

Edward’s hesitation was almost unnoticeable. He answered only part of her question. “Looking for friends who might help us.”

Taras leaned toward him, holding his hands out in front of him. “Edward, no matter how many friends you gather, we can’t help youwin. We can only die with you. You must know that. Of course, perhaps the four of us deserve that after what Ivan has done now, after how we’ve failed you in the past—for his sake that time as well.”

Edward shook his head quickly. “We’re not asking you to fight and die with us, Taras. You know Carlisle would never ask for that.”

“Then what, Edward?”

“We’re just looking for witnesses. If we can make them pause, just for a moment. If they would let us explain…” He touched my cheek. “Prove that Beau has been changed, or at least that we did our best to change him. Explain that the wolves present no immediate danger to them. Champion the Volturi to show us some mercy.”

Taras nodded slowly. “Do you think they will listen?”

“I don’t know. If Ivan had only given us a chance to explain before going to the Volturi we may have been able to avoid this entirely.”

“Beau still would have had to convince the Volturi his change was… satisfactory.” Kate raised an eyebrow.

“Beau,” Elena said quietly, still pacing, “is a rare creature. Aro would not risk destroying anything so unique without pause.”

“We can witness to the quality of our family.” Carmen finally said in a decided tone. “We can add our voices to yours. The Volturi are strict, but they are not without mercy.”

“Without mercy…” Elena repeated, still distant.

“Yes, we can witness for you,” Taras said. “Certainly that much. We will consider what more we might do.”

“Taras,” Edward protested, hearing more in his thoughts than there was in his words, “we don’t expect you to fight with us.”

“If the Volturi won’t pause to listen to our witness, if they will not show mercy, we cannot simply stand by,” Taras insisted. “Of course, I should only speak for myself.”

Kate snorted. “Do you really doubt me so much, brother?”

Taras smiled widely at her. “It is a suicide mission, after all.”

Kate flashed a grin back and then shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m in.”

“I, too, will do what I can do protect you all,” Carmen agreed. “Do not be so troubled, Beau.” She leaned forward and kissed my cheek.

“Thank you, all of you.” I said quietly.

For a moment I thought that maybe what we were attempting might be possible. Maybe we would be shown mercy by our enemies.

And then I remembered that Alice had left us, and my hope vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

[devilsknotrp]

Congratulations, M! You have been accepted for the role of Sandy Silverman (FC:Nicole Kidman). As Mandy’s player, I was understandably anxious to find a player who could articulate the muddy depths of Sandy Silverman... I shouldn’t have even worried. Your application is absolutely incredible. Your writing sample alone made us both so excited, because something as simple as ringing the hotline for Brian is loaded with meaning and intent. We have to spotlight your headcanons. Fleshing out her backstory allowed us to see how much has happened to Sandy. The glimpses of Phillip (putting out a cigarette in his food: oh, God) were painful reminders of how complex domestic power structures can be. You have given Sandy such life. It will be truly wonderful to see her develop in game. Please have a look at this page prior to sending in your account.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Name: M Age: 24 Pronouns: She/her Timezone: GMT-5 Activity estimation: I have a full time job and other commitments but I’ll try to reply a couple times a week! Triggers: REDACTED

IN CHARACTER

Full name: Sandra Kathleen Silverman, née Moore Age (DD/MM/YYYY): Fifty five (08/04/41) – Leo Gender: Cisgender woman Pronouns: She/her Sexuality: Lesbian (closeted, even to herself) Occupation: Real Estate Agent, Great Lake Homes Connection to Victim: Sandy sold Linda the home in which the Goode family currently resides. She also sees Linda from time to time at PTA meetings – when Sandy manages to show up, that is – since they both have children in high school. And since Brian’s disappearance bears a resemblance to Pete’s disappearance years ago, Sandy feels an unusual connection with Linda. Alibi: Sandy reluctantly took Pete shopping in the morning, and dropped him off at home afterwards. She headed to the office to grab a few papers for a client and spent the afternoon preparing a house for its viewing scheduled for the following day. Faceclaim: Nicole Kidman

WRITING SAMPLE

The line rang three times before someone picked up. “You’ve reached the Brian Goode tip-line,” a man said, voice crackling through the phone line like crumpled paper. The voice was monotone. Sandy had clearly not been the first person to call this morning. She hitched her shoulder up, using the bony part at the top to press the receiver against her ear so she could take a sip from her coffee mug. A Michigan Nip, of course. 

“Hi, good morning, I’ve been meaning to call you,” she said. One week had passed and Brian Goode was still a ghost. 

Sandy’s eyes were focused on the phone keypad. If she looked hard enough, she’d swear that some of the numbers had been worn down just a bit more than the rest. All those calls, back and forth, twelve years ago. She practically had the department’s number memorized at this point. “It’s just terrible, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but we’re doing the best we can right now, ma’am,” the man said, and Sandy couldn’t contain the snort of laughter that came flying out. She was standing in very spot where she’d learned that her son was alive, and that her husband was dead. She’d never felt that the Devil’s Knot Police Department had done their best at just about anything. “Do you have any information to report?” he asked.

“Oh, yes, certainly. I was just calling to ask about the case, though. Do you have any leads yet?” Sandy asked the question matter-of-factly, and took another sip. After how long it had taken Charlie Taylor to botch everything last time, she figured the department owed her some goddamned information. 

There was a pause. “Ma’am, this is a tip line,” he said. The pitch of his voice rose at the end like he wasn’t sure if he should be asking or telling.

“I know,” Sandy said. “I thought the main line would be busy, and maybe I could get some information from you instead.” She heard shuffling behind her and turned over her shoulder to make eye contact with her son. “Just tell the Sheriff that it’s Sandy, he’ll understand,” she said, eyebrows raised, and shooed Peter away with a quick wave of her hand. The last thing she needed was for him to get re-traumatized, or whatever Dr. Shah had called it. She’d written some psychology buzzwords down a few years ago in case Sandy ever wanted to go to the public library and check a book out. In all likelihood, the piece of paper had gone through the wash in one of her pants pockets and disappeared entirely. 

There was another pause. Longer this time. He gave a sigh that crackled in her ear. “Mrs. Silverman, I – “

“Officer, come on,” Sandy interrupted, “Don’t you know what happened to my family?” Of course he did. Everyone did. 

“Yes, and I’m very sorry, but it’s ongoing investigation. If you have any information that you think could be helpful, please let us know.”

Twelve years later and apparently the department hadn’t gotten any better since Charlie Taylor resigned in disgrace. Sandy tipped the mug back and took a large gulp. The splash of whisky burned in her throat. “Let’s just hope you’re doing a better job this time around.” She looked down at her empty mug. The spiral cord trailed behind her as she took a few steps toward the counter to put it in the sink. “It didn’t take you a week to find my son in ’84. Do your fucking job. Good day,” Sandy said, and hung up.

ANYTHING ELSE?

Here is my Pinterest board for Sandy! 

Sandy grew up in a very traditional family. Her father was a physician, her mother a homemaker. She watched from a young age how the men in her life took up space; how they showed cruelty in the way they spoke loudly, making rules that only they were allowed to break. Irene, Sandy’s mother, taught her how to make herself pretty and small, so boys would like her. Her older brother was the pride of the family; all chiseled jaw and boyish charm, just handsome enough to get away with anything. The pedestal he lived on was so high she could barely see the bottom of it. She was just a girl, raised in chains, her parent’s Little Darling, unobtrusive and accommodating. Never enough, because she was never allowed to be. This disconnect deepened as she grew older – but if her parents wanted her to be a young lady, Sandy would be the best young lady in all of Indiana. She’d perform perfectly.

She was always good at getting people to like her. In high school, all it took was becoming cheer captain and giving out blowjobs after school in the parking lot. She was a good girl. Sloppy Sandy, they called her. It didn’t matter. They all cheered when she became prom queen, anyway. She went on to study sculpture at Moore College of Art and Design, and told the other girls that her family had been the one to give the school its name. Just to see their faces light up. Sculpting gave her permission, for once in her life, to stick her hands in the mud. When her mother referred to sculpture as a fine hobby, Sandy knew it was code for a pit stop on your way to marriage.

Phillip and Sandy met on a blind date. Irene introduced the idea during one of their mother-daughter dates at the beauty parlor. She waited until Sandy’s fingers were in the manicurist’s hands to inform her that Phillip Silverman would be picking her up that evening. Seven o’clock, sharp. Good genes, she said. Handsome. His mother had been crowned Miss Indiana in ‘22, after all. Irene had just been runner-up. Sandy agreed, of course, because she had to.

The following year, they were married. Phillip was a kind man, and everyone loved him, so Sandy did too. The word wife felt funny in her mouth when she said it out loud, so she put on an apron and shopped at Macy’s and picked up pilates. If she shaped herself into Woman incarnate, it made it all better, somehow. When she gave birth at twenty-five, the post-partum depression swallowed her whole. It left the dishes unwashed, diapers unchanged, and to-do list unchecked. She spent more time in bed than her infant daughter did. Phillip learned to bring the baby to their bedroom to breastfeed. More often than not, when she cradled their daughter in her arms, Sandy would start to cry. Bad mother, bad bad bad, she thought. Phillip seemed to think so too. It didn’t take long for the GP to write her a prescription for Valium. It helped. She started drinking more, and that helped too.

As Amanda grew, Sandy drank. Post post-partum depression, maybe. She didn’t have an excuse then; she just gave up. Sandy tried to fashion her daughter into a reflection of herself – dressing her in pink, putting her in cheerleading, teaching her to smile – but the connection felt irreparable. Thankfully, Phillip took over the bulk of the parental duties. He never let her forget it. At least the resentment was mutual; at family dinner, Sandy put her cigarettes out in Phillip’s food to let him know he’d eaten enough. No one was going to be fat in her family. Another child was out of the question, but sometimes, when Sandy was drunk, she forgot to take her birth control. The post-partum depression knocked her on her feet so badly the second time around that she got her tubes tied. After the procedure, she drove down to the beauty parlor for a manicure.

Sandy remembers very little of the two days her husband and son were missing. The panic was paralyzing. She was drunk when she got the call that Peter had been found; she drove to the hospital and took out two bushes in the parking lot with Mandy in the passenger seat. Her boy was alive! Later, when they found Phillip, grief was quickly washed out by rage. Why had he done this to them – to her? Everyone who’d called her the bad parent could kiss her well-toned ass. And they did. For a while, at least, when the frenzy was still about the poor Silverman family. A small part of her liked the attention. Finally, someone in Devil’s Knot gave a shit about Sandy Silverman when she was sober.

The rumors were relentless. Soon enough, the town was going to swallow itself whole. One morning, their dog Bonnie turned up dead in the front yard, blood pooling on the overgrown grass. Sandy got in the car in her silk pajamas, went down to the police department, and told Charlie Taylor just how badly he was fucking the whole thing sideways. Three months was too long. When they finally arrested Max Acosta, Sandy didn’t even care if he was guilty. She was tired. They asked her to corroborate the argument between Max and Phillip. She remembered the incident in a half-hazy way, but it must’ve been Fourth of July because she’d been drinking watermelon punch. Phillip must’ve started the argument, the bonehead. I have a sense about these things, trust me.

After the trial, she set Peter up with a psychologist because God knows she wasn’t equipped to deal with that. The children still felt far away, somewhere inaccessible to her, even after all that happened. Sandy tried joining the PTA, but that required sobriety on a Wednesday night, which meant her attendance was sparse. She got a real job, finally. Sandy Silverman, Real Estate Agent, Great Lake Homes. With a card and everything. Being a salesman is like being a woman: a test of how much you can endure. All the happy wives and mothers must be lying to themselves too, right? It’s just contest to see who can keep the smile pasted on her face the longest. Well, Sandy Silverman’s a professional, and she’s good at that too. She’s the best at it. And she’ll show you!

[aporeticelenchus]

I wish you would write a fic where Grantaire and Marius end up in an unlikely situation (possibly R insisting on being useful to Enjolras and dragging Marius along with him to prove their worth to the cause) and just when all seems hopeless, somehow their exact skill sets happen to combine fortuitously and result in success. They are deeply confused but pleased to be congratulated on their excellent work.

While Grantaire gave the shopkeeper what he probably thoughtwas a winning smile, Marius tried to fade unobtrusively into the wallpaper.

“We are here,” Grantaire announced in a loud stage whisper,“for the ‘special texts.’” He winked conspiratorially. Marius edged furtheraway and pretended to be absorbed a row of books about medieval apiarists.

The shopkeeper – a little old lady who barely came up toGrantaire’s chest – looked doubtful. “The special…texts? Well, I don’t know…Isuppose you might take a look and see if we have what you’re looking for.”

Grantaire winked again, even more painfully unsubtle. “Youneedn’t worry; we’ve been sent by common ‘friends’ to handle the matter.”

Technically, that wasn’t true. Marius had been sent, orrather, he’d had Enjolras suggest he might drop by the bookshopwithout attracting notice and see whether there had been any messages left bysister groups. Grantaire had inserted himself in the task by the act offollowing after Marius and explaining that he would condescend to help Mariusand teach him the trade. He was impervious to all politesuggestions that Marius thought he’d be all right alone, and that surelyGrantaire had more important ways to spend his time.

Marius would admit to some relief that he didn’t have to askthe sweet-looking old lady if she had any seditious messages. With any luck shewould assume he was just another customer wandering about the store. Andagainst all odds, what Grantaire was doing seemed to be working – theshopkeeper waved Grantaire towards at room at the back of the shop and broughtout a small box of books. Grantaire grabbed Marius’ arm and dragged him awayfrom the book he was pretending to read on beetle habitats in Northern Germany.

“I’ll say it; I’ll be glad to have those things off my hands,” theshopkeeper told them. “I can’t read a bit of it, and thanks be to God for that.We run a respectable shop here, and I won’t have it elsewise. You can sort itout yourselves; take what you came for and leave whatever’s fit for decent folk.”

Grantaire slapped Marius on theback so hard he almost fell over. “Leave it to us,” he told the old womanconfidently.

“Grantaire. This is all. It’s. This.” Marius gestured helplessly at the books in front of them.

“Pornography,” Grantaire confirmed. “Utter filth.Irredeemable smut. Do you think there’s any chance this was what Enjolraswanted us to pick up?” he added, with a hopeful note in his voice.

Marius opened another book, and then shut it quickly. “Thisone has pictures.”

Grantaire picked the offending book. “It certainly does!” Hesounded impressed, which Marius took as a particularly bad sign. He sighed andwent back to the (thankfully) non-illustrated works.

“Five in German, three inEnglish, I think this one is Spanish, and these four seem to be a mix ofclassical Latin and ancient Greek. Probably anthologies.” Marius reported.

“You know what this means, don’t you?” saidGrantaire

“It means we mixed something up,” said Marius glumly. “Maybeit’s the wrong shop, maybe we came on the wrong day, maybe you said exactly thewrong things to the shopkeeper.” Marius was banking on that last one at least.

“Incorrect! It means we must to scanthrough all these works for any hidden messages. Duty summons us, and even thePontmercys and Grantaires of the world must occasionally answer her call. Toarms! Let the pen serve in place of the sword. And who knows, you may evenlearn something useful.” Grantaire shoved the pile of German books towardsMarius and grabbed a Latin text for himself.

“I don’t think any of this is even physically possible,”Marius grumbled as he neared the end of another little booklet. Somehow once hewas engrossed in the work of translation it was hard to be scandalized by thesalacious nature of the text. He was still offended on a purely literary levelhowever.

“I could endeavor to find out,” Grantaire said with a leer. “I’vetaken notes on some of the more adventurous frontispieces.”

Marius ignored him. “And look at this, this page is halffalling out and it isn’t even in proper German! It’s like someone tried towrite German backwards while using an English dictionary and Latin grammar,while only speaking French! I know this is all absolute trash, but surely there mustbe some authorial pride.”

Grantaire pulled the book out of Marius’ hands and squintedat the offending page. “Pontmercy, for once you may have proven useful. Truly,nature makes nothing in vain, not even Marii.”

“Excuse me,” saidMarius heatedly.

“You are excused,” Grantaire agreed magnanimously, “providedyou assist me in working out the code used here and whether it’s what ournoble leader sent me to fetch.”

Marius considered objecting tothe pronoun in that last statement, but after a moment more looking at the pagein front of them he was too engrossed by the puzzle to care.

[braincoins]

Title: Learn By Heart Fandom: “Voltron: Legendary Defender” Summary: It's Allura's first semester teaching, and she's prepared for anything ...except Takashi Shirogane. Ships: Shallura Warnings: N/A Author’s Notes: This is for my @shalluraexchange giftee, @zsyree! I hope you like it even if it wasn't your first-choice prompt.

They're not supposed to be at any particular college/university, but this is me, and I write what I know. What I know is Indiana University Bloomington. So to any IU alumni or students out there, some of this should be familiar.

Before anyone asks - they're the same age. (I even have her say it in the fic.) How is that possible? Welllll, she went to college right after high school, while he enrolled in the Air Force. She's completed her undergrad courses and is just starting her graduate career, and, as such, has been press-ganged by her advisor into teaching. Meanwhile, he's taken a few college-level courses as part of his advancement in the USAF, but he's otherwise been preoccupied with his tours of duty. Then he was injured and he needed time to heal, recover, get the prosthetic and then get used to it. This is his first time in a formal higher education setting.

Fic below the cut (3,600 words - also on AO3)

           Allura was logging into the classroom’s computer when she heard a polite, “Excuse me?” from behind her.

           She turned towards the smoothly masculine voice and smiled pleasantly even as her stomach flopped. Standing before her was a handsome young man, her age or maybe a little older, with a shock of white hair, a scar across his nose (just under warm, dark eyes), and an easygoing smile. Broad shoulders and chest… she made herself stop and look him in the eye. Remain professional, she chided herself. Aside from the black turtleneck he was wearing, he looked like a military recruitment poster come to life.

           “You’re Professor Smythe?”

           Her smile widened a little at how surprised he sounded. “I am Ms. Fala,” she corrected. “I’m one of Professor Smythe’s grad students. I’m teaching this section. Can I help you?”

           His gaze had been drifting a bit south and he cleared his throat and straightened up again. Well, at least I’m not the only one who likes what they see. “I’m Takashi Shirogane. I was told to give you this when I arrived.” He held out a piece of paper and when she looked down to take it, she realized almost immediately what it was. Not because of the paper, which was neatly folded in half, but because where his right hand should have been was a jet black mechanical prosthetic.

           She accepted the paper and unfolded it and, sure enough, it was a notice of need for accommodation. She read it and nodded. “All in order. Do you need this back?”

           “Yes, please. I have to show it to all my teachers.” She handed it back to him and he thanked her quietly as he tucked it back into his jeans pocket.

           “What sort of accommodation do you require?”

           “Not much. I just need to sit front and center with my laptop and mic. It’s not a big setup; it shouldn’t be in anyone else’s way. I can use a mouse pretty well but I can’t really type fast enough to keep up, so I’ve got a speech-to-text program set up to take notes on what you say. I also have a notebook for jotting things down the old-fashioned way, but I’m still getting used to the new hand, and I want to make sure I don’t miss anything important.”

           She nodded and gestured to the still empty front row. “I would suggest sitting here, actually, rather than in the center. I spend most of my time at the computer podium or very near it. Also, I do upload my PowerPoints at the end of each class, so you can access those online.”

           His smile widened. “Great, thank you. That’s a big help.”

           “Do you need a plug? There are several free ones on the podium.”

           “Oh, I’ve got plenty of charge, but if it’s not too much of a bother…”

           “No bother at all, Mr. Shirogane.”

           “My friends all call me Shiro.”

           She cleared her throat. “Get your things set up, Mr. Shirogane,” she said pleasantly. Unfortunately, you’re a student, so you’re going to have to stay “Mr. Shirogane.” That was a disappointment, but hey, at least she’d have a nice view during class. STOP THAT. Stop objectifying one of your students. “There’s a plug right here you can use,” she said, indicating one on the back of the podium.

           “Thank you, Ms. Fala.” And he went to his seat, already slinging his backpack off to get it open.

           She resumed setting up her “first day of class” slides and tried to keep her thoughts professional and on the topic of Comparative Politics.

           The first class was standard and boring – talking about the curriculum, where to find the syllabus and PowerPoints online, her grading scale, etc. It was a first-year introductory class, and most of these students were just taking it for the necessary “Breadth of Inquiry” credits that the university required. Still, if she could turn even one of them into a poli-sci major, she’d count that as a huge victory. But ultimately, her job was to relay the required material to them, go over their papers, and compile their grades.

           Still, for a boring introductory class on a basic topic, she found Mr. Shirogane alert and attentive. The small microphone clipped to the lid of his laptop was unobtrusive. While other students were barely staying awake, he hand-wrote the URLs, her college-affiliated email address, and her office hour times down in his notebook and never once looked bored.

           She let them out early (promising them they were unlikely to get this consideration for the rest of the semester) and began the process of logging off and shutting down. Due to his extra preparations, Mr. Shirogane was quickly the only one left in the room with her.

           “Well, it should be an interesting class,” he said conversationally as he started unplugging everything and packing it up.

           “I appreciate your interest, but don’t get your hopes up,” she warned with a light chuckle. Be careful not to flirt, she reminded herself.

           “I’m not. I’m genuinely looking forward to it.”

           “Are you going to major in political science?” she asked.

           He shook his head. “Minor. Well, double minor: this and history.”

           Her eyebrows went up. Not quite a major, but at least he has a definite interest in the subject instead of just taking it as something to get out of the way. “Very nice. Do you have a major in mind?”

           He nodded. “Double major: physics and astronomy.”

           “Double major AND double minor?” She whistled quietly at the mere thought of the workload for that. “Well, you’re not afraid of hard work, that’s for sure. And physics/astronomy with poli-sci/history? Unusual choice.”

           He shrugged. “Well, I want to be an astronaut, so that kind of dictates my majors. There are a few other options, but those were the ones that were most interesting to me. I can pretty much do what I want with my minors, and I thought it’d be nice to diverge a bit, indulge some of my other interests.”

           “An astronaut?” She blinked.

           His smile thinned. “I know, but just because I lost my hand doesn’t mean I can’t…”

           “Oh, no!” She rushed to reassure him. “I wasn’t… that’s not…!” She cleared her throat. “Of course you can. I was just surprised that I have a future astronaut in my class, that’s all.”

           His smile turned apologetic. “Sorry. I’m used to people thinking I’m,” he looked down at his right hand, which closed up into a loose fist, “broken. Like I can’t do anything like that anymore. Everyone talks like I have to give up the dream I’ve had since I was a kid, just because of the hand.”

           “So, it’s… recent then?” She realized what she was asking and cursed at herself mentally. “Not that you need to talk about it; I shouldn’t pry.”

           He shrugged. “It’s okay. I lost it a year and a half ago. Afghanistan.”

           “Oh, you’re in the military?”

           He started to nod and then caught himself. “Well, I was. Air Force.”

           “Thank you for your service…” She paused. “I’m sorry, I don’t know your rank.”

           “I was a Staff Sergeant, but you don’t have to call me that. Medical discharge and all that.” He waved his prosthetic hand. “Finally getting back into the world. I generally prefer Shiro or Takashi to ‘Sergeant Shirogane’ all the time.”

           She cleared her throat. “Well, Mr. Shirogane, I’ll see you in class again on Wednesday, yes?”

           “Bright and early!” he confirmed. “Did you lose a bet to get the 9 AM class?”

           She smirked. “I’m the newest grad student, so I had little choice. And you can’t really complain; you signed up for this section.”

           “Well, technically, yes, but it was the only one that still had available seats.” They both laughed and he swung his backpack onto his back again. “See you, Wednesday, Ms. Fala.”

           She watched him go, chided herself for ogling him again (I’m not sure how jeans that tight can be comfortable, but bless him for wearing them anyway), and grabbed her things. She had her own coursework to see to, after all.

 *****

             Coran set aside the work she’d handed him on her thesis. “So, how’s your first semester of teaching going, Allura?”

           She barely caught her smile from slipping. “Fine.”

           He arched an eyebrow at her. “You know I can tell when you’re lying to me.”

           “No, really, it’s going as well as could be expected, it’s just…” She chewed on her lower lip.

           He reached over his desk to pat her hand. “Students can be rough, especially on a new teacher. They can smell it, like sharks smelling blood. We’re nearly to midterms; I know it’s probably getting stressful.”

           “No, it’s… well, I mean, it is, but not because of that. It’s just,” she took a deep breath, “I think I’m going to need you to grade one of my students’ work from now on. Just the one!” she added quickly. “I know you’re busy and I’m asking a lot of you, but it’s really just the one, and he’s honestly one of the best students, so…”

           “Allura, slow down!” Her advisor was clearly confused. “If he’s one of the best students, why are you trying to pawn his work off on me?”

           She looked away. “It’s… um…” She risked a look back at him.

           Professor Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe had a single eyebrow arched and the most “Well?” face she’d ever seen. (The mustache helped.)

           She sighed and looked down at her hands in her lap. “I am developing an inappropriate attraction. Even though I’m not acting on it, I feel like my ability to grade his work objectively could be called into question.”

           “Oh. Yes, that is a pickle. And you’re not acting on this attraction at all, correct?”

           She nodded. “I’m very careful, honestly. The only times we’re alone together are just before and after class, and only for a few minutes each time. Well, and sometimes office hours, but they’re entirely professional!”

           “He comes to your office hours?”

           “Well, so do some of the other students,” she pointed out.

           “And comes early and stays late? For a 9 AM class?”

           She cleared her throat. “He has a prosthetic hand. He needs the extra time to set up his computer and software and to pack it all up again. And when he comes to office hours, it’s usually because his speech-to-text program misheard some of my words and he needs clarification for what they’re supposed to be. It’s all entirely professional!” She realized she was sounding defensive (and repeating herself wasn’t helping), so she shut up, feeling ashamed of herself. My first semester teaching and something like this happens.

           Coran just nodded. “You’re doing everything right then. That’s fine. I’ll grade his work for the rest of the semester, just to be safe.”

           She sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

           But then he leaned forward and asked, dropping his voice conspiratorially, “So, how bad is it?”

           She blinked. “What, his work? It’s not bad at all, he’s working towards a minor, so he’s actually interested in the subject matter and…”

           “No, no, not that. How bad is this crush of yours?”

           “Coran.”

           “I’m just going to be an insufferable git until you tell me,” he pointed out.

           She groaned and flopped back in her chair, tilting her head up to look at the ceiling. “His smile makes my heart stop, my stomach flip, and my knees weak.”

           “Oh ho! That is bad!” He was enjoying this.

           “And he sits right in front of me. He has to, because of the speech-to-text. He can type, but not fast enough to take good notes. So he’s right there all the time, and he’s always paying full attention to me and the lecture, and …”

           “Handsome?”

           “Extremely,” she confirmed. She lowered her head to look at Coran again. “He was in the Air Force! He wants to be an astronaut! He’s only a few months older than I am. He’s strong and brave and charming and I may die if he wears that one sweater to class again.” She dropped her head into her hands. “Don’t even get me started on my inappropriate staring as he walks out of the classroom.”

           Coran guffawed. “Well, the rules are no fraternizing with students, but nothing wrong with looking! You can’t help who you’re attracted to.”

           “You’re not helping,” she muttered through her hands.

           “Well, I’m helping by grading his work for you,” he pointed out. “Courage. The semester won’t last forever, even if it seems like it will.”

           She lifted her head. “But then I won’t see him again at all.”

           Coran tsked at her. “Midterms really must be stressing you out. You’re overlooking the obvious.”

           She frowned at him, brow furrowing. “What?”

           He shook a finger at her. “You’re a bright girl – one of the best grad students I’ve got – you’ll figure it out! In the meantime, send me the astronaut’s work. We’ll see if it’s truly ‘out of this world.’” He chuckled, clearly pleased at himself.

           She groaned again as she stood. “Can you try to write any comments legibly? I’m beginning to believe the campus rumors that the anthropology department tricks their students into trying to decipher your handwriting as if it were some long-lost ancient script.”

           “I make no promises,” he declared loftily.

 *****

             “Mr. Shirogane!” she called after him when she saw him in the student union. She hurried up to him and smiled as he turned. “I’m glad I found you.”

  ��        “Ms. Fala,” he greeted her. His smile was warm, as always, and elicited that now-familiar feeling of happy sickness within her. But his smile faltered a little. “Is something wrong?”

           “No!” She cleared her throat and tried to calm herself down. “No, nothing at all.”

           He let out a sigh of relief. “I was worried that there was a problem with my test or my essay or something.”

           “No, it’s not about that. Can we talk somewhere a little… quieter?” They were by Sugar ‘n’ Spice – one of the main coffee hubs in the union – and the hallway by it was half-filled with people waiting in line for a hot beverage.

           It was full-on winter now, and students had been hiding their increasing finals-induced stress under hats and scarves and bulky coats. Mr. Shirogane had a black-and-purple beanie, black gloves, and the sort of coat she imagined Arctic explorers would wear to find the North Pole. Or, well, models would wear to give the impression they were exploring the Arctic. Maybe that was just her impression of all of his clothes.

           He nodded and looked around. “Um…”

           “If you don’t mind the cold, we could go outside?”

           He snorted. “Well, it will be much less crowded.” He gestured grandly. “After you.”

           She headed downstairs and ducked out into a tiny courtyard off a seating area. She liked coming here in warmer weather, enjoying the relative peace and quiet of the usually-unnoticed outdoor spot. It offered some nice benches and a lovely little sculpture, all of it surrounded by ivy-covered walls, with an old, high, wrought iron gate leading to stairs going up to the main street level. It was bitterly cold, so naturally no one was out here. It was also rather dark; this late in the year, it got dark so early, and with the courtyard’s relatively low position, it was already well-hidden from what sunlight there was left to them. The union’s exterior lights were already on, so she could still easily see his curious expression as she turned to face him.

           “So, there was nothing wrong with my final?” he asked.

           “You did fine. In fact, I just finished submitting all the grades for the class.”

           He arched an eyebrow. “You submitted my final grade or Professor Smythe did?”

           She fidgeted. “I submitted all the grades except yours, but Professor Smythe has submitted yours, yes.”

           “Can I ask why I seem to be the only one in class who has to put up with his handwriting?”

           She couldn’t help laughing at that, and it took her a moment to pull herself back together. “Well, if you had asked me before now, I would have told you that it was because I wanted him to see your work.”

           He studied her. “Okay. So what’s the real reason?”

           “It’s not a lie. I did want him to see it. You’re a very thoughtful and dedicated student. I can tell you’ve been giving this class a hundred and ten percent, and I appreciate it. So it’s not a lie, but it’s also not the entire truth.” She cleared her throat and tried to keep herself from fidgeting out of nervousness. “I had to turn your work over to someone else to grade. Someone who could be objective.”

           Both of his eyebrows went up. “You… Why couldn’t you be objective?” His voice sounded hushed.

           She bit her lip, then made herself stop that. C’mon. You rehearsed this about a thousand times. You can do this. “I…” You have to do this. “As incredibly unprofessional as it is to say, when I first found out you were my student, I was terribly disappointed.”

           He looked like he’d been slapped.

           That spurred her on (and also made her speak a bit quicker, sound less smooth and steady than she’d hoped). “Not because of…! Because you were so handsome!”

           That transmuted the wounded look into stunned silence. She made herself take a deep breath before continuing.

           “I thought it would be okay. There are a lot of very attractive people on campus, and I’ve always handled things well. I thought things would be the same with you. But they weren’t. They haven’t been, ever. My attraction to you only got worse as I got to know you. So, I turned your work over to Professor Smythe, because it was too hard to view your work objectively.”

           He blinked and, after a moment’s consideration, asked, “Is that why the professor always sat in on class on days I had to do oral presentations?”

           She nodded and stopped herself from fidgeting again. “Exactly. I would never have been able to give you a proper grade on your work. You have a very nice voice and you use it well.” She blushed. “That sounds terrible out of context, but… your delivery is good, and you have such a deep interest in the subject… Oh heavens, it’s just getting worse!” She cleared her throat. “He had to be the one to grade your presentations, is my point.”

           He readjusted the straps of his backpack. “So, you’re… um… telling me this now because…?”

           “Because soon I won’t be your teacher any more. And I was hoping that we could go out, get some pizza and beer, just talk.”

           “About us?”

           Her blush was getting worse, she could feel it. “About us, about one another, about… about anything. I love our little chats before and after class. I always want more time to just talk with you.”

           He just stood there, looking at her. She wanted to scream, but she held it in, trying not to look as anxious as she felt. Then he held out his forearm to her. “Pinch me?”

           She blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

           “Pinch me, because I’m pretty sure I’m dreaming this.”

           She laughed. “I am not going to pinch you!”

           “Why not?” he demanded.

           “Well, for one thing, that’s your right arm; I can’t really make much of a dent in that.”

           He huffed at himself and withdrew the arm. “Sorry, I still forget sometimes.”

           “And, for another, I doubt you’d feel it much through that thick coat anyway.”

           “I’m pretty sure you could do some damage if you really wanted to.”

           “Which brings me to my final point: I don’t want to hurt you!”

           “You really want to go out with me?” he asked, dropping the levity.

           She smiled and nodded. “Ever since I first saw you. Having you sit right in front of me all semester has been driving me mad.”

           “I’d like that. Uh, when you’re not my teacher anymore. Speaking of which, when will that be?”

           “Well, the grades for the class are submitted, so I will officially no longer be your teacher at 6 PM.”

           “What time is it now?” he asked immediately.

           A deep gong from the campus clock tower began declaring the hour. Allura silently counted out the booming chimes until the 6th one sounded and the clock tower’s bells fell into silence again.

           A wide grin split his face. “So. Pizza & beer then?”

           She nodded. “Sounds wonderful.”

           “And, just so we’re on even footing, I have to tell you, I’ve never been one for those ‘hot for teacher’ type scenarios until I met you.”

           Her blush cranked to full volume as she laughed. “And here I was going to tell you how charming you were.”

           Unexpectedly, he reached out and took her hand in his right. He lifted it to his lips to kiss the back of her …well, glove. “You’re the most beautiful and intelligent woman I’ve ever met,” he told her.

           “Okay, you can have your ‘charming’ title back. C’mon, I’m starved, and getting a seat at Mother Bear’s is going to be madness.” She grabbed hold of his hand and tugged him towards the gate.

           “I don’t mind waiting for a table.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “More time to spend with you, Ms.. uh..” He laughed.

           She joined in. “You can call me ‘Allura’ now, Shiro.”

[trulycertain]

keep your heart close to the ground

This is a remix of @withthebreezesblown‘s gorgeous Too Dark To Read, which is a detailed, clever happy ending for King Alistair with plenty of bittersweetness and credit given for his intelligence, and most importantly, PUPPIES. Sadly, only one puppy appears in this fic, but only because Breezes has the rest covered. This isn’t a direct prequel or sequel, more some missing in-between scenes; some extra “our boy grows up and is actually pretty good at this kinging thing.” Hope I’ve done your beautiful fic justice, Breezes.

She’s only been a sister for two weeks, but she’s already seen the boy a few times, usually getting his ear clipped or once, skidding round the corner darting down a corridor, chased by a succession of different people who were all in robes and exceedingly angry. She hears troublemaker and bastard and occasionally little shit – in the words of Brother Brendan, after stubbing his toe halfway through a rant about the boy - and she makes a note to be wary.

She’s bringing bread into the kitchen when she sees a short figure with hair in all directions scrubbing pots and, very quietly, humming. She sees him tense, as if expecting another shouting-at, but the cook’s saying something and there’s no time to think, no time at all.

It’s only a couple of days later that she’s walking past one of the small supply rooms when she sees the copper glint of candlelight on hair. She stops, even with the laundry in her arms, and peers in as unobtrusively as she can.

The boy doesn’t even notice her. He’s sitting next to a simple wooden chessboard – one of the simple ones, from the library, not even worth stealing, but somehow she doesn’t think that’s what he’s doing. He’s silent, a far cry from the jittery little menace in their stories who talks with his hands and is the bane of the Revered Mother’s life, and he looks thoughtful, brown eyes shining slightly in the dim light. He’s turning the carved king piece in his hands, over and over, watching it.

No, not thoughtful, she realises, after a moment. He looks terribly sad.

 The boy is bright – far brighter than he pretends. Duncan recognises that, as someone who was similar, once. He’s quick on the uptake, and wry, though he hides it with… broadness. He grins and talks with his hands, lets sentences drag on and crash into each other until his audience is amused or exasperated. There is something of his father in him, it is true, but there’s something warmer there. The boy is older in the mind, perhaps even smarter, than his father was at this age – even as he laughs too loudly and stumbles to apologise for himself, scuffing his boots in the dirt when he’s made to speak of himself and his upbringing and changing the subject as quickly as possible.

It’s almost convincing, but then there are the moments when he thinks Duncan’s not looking. When he’s consulting maps and looking at the sky, clearly tracking their route by the stars. Polishing armour with a silent, honest discipline his father never had, his eyes far away, bringing to mind things Duncan has heard about templar meditation. 

When there’s fear in his eyes but he beheads his first hurlock matter-of-factly, almost easily. Only afterwards, when his sword is cleaned and sheathed, does he remember to make a nervous joke about “nearly screaming like a girl.” It might be true, but there’s steel in his eyes.

Duncan thinks that Maric and Eamon were fools.

Teagan wonders when Alistair became a sovereign – the coin, not just a ruler, though he might have laughed at the confusion once. He could have been carved in metal, embossed. His face is steady, impassive, as if he’s training or playing Wicked Grace rather than being crowned the ruler of Ferelden. It’s surprising to see; Teagan thought he hadn’t inherited it from his father.

He’ll say something about that later, but more delicately, not wanting to see the way Alistair shrinks slightly in his boots, the hint of a grimace at the mention of Maric, quickly hidden. And Alistair will laugh, and say, “My father? No, that one was the Chantry. You try staying steady when half your classmates are making faces behind Brother Bertrand’s back and you’ll get caned if you fall out of formation or… breathe. ‘An unmoved demeanour befitting a servant of Andraste who is above all but his duty,’” he’ll echo, in a pompous, false voice.

The laughter will fade when he holds court, that granite-faced quality returning, and the nobles don’t know what to make of him – only that he is their king, and they are terrified of making a wrong step in front of the pretender whose blood they were laughing about outside.

The farmers and the Alienage elves are treated differently, Teagan will notice, with smiles and nods, the boy casually listing in his chair as if it’s simply a social call and he’s about to ask for cake and scones to be brought through.

But for now, Alistair bows his head – due to tradition as much as the weight of the crown – and Teagan notices the hint of a smile on his face: small and surprised, but there.

Humans are stupid. It’s one of the first things her mother teaches her, when she doesn’t know much more than warm and food and ooh, biting is fun.

Humans never have any idea what’s good for them; if they find something decent they run away from it, and then you have to drag them back and maybe nudge them a little so they know. They guard the wrong things and they get scared to show their teeth, and then they wonder why they’ve been backed into a corner and they’re afraid. Someone has to snarl for them, sometimes, because they’re not allowed to, or they think they’re not allowed to and that’s almost worse. Because they’re fierce, under it all, and once they know what they should be fighting for, they’ll fight with all their hearts. Sometimes it just takes too long.

Like her mother said: stupid. Though she’ll only realise just how stupid in the years to come, long after she’s wriggled into warm arms and she’s heard surprised laughter and noises, startled but soothing: Hey there, we haven’t met, have – Ow! Wow. Ow.

Long after she grins and burrows closer because warm and smells interesting and kind - she knows it like her heartbeat and the smell of hay and the fact she needs to help these stupid humans – he calls her Arlessa, with the barking that comes from amusement rather than anger.

This one isn’t too bad. Licking’s nearly as fun as biting. She’ll keep him.

She only realises later that a whole country went We’ll keep him too. Bad luck for them. He’s hers.

“You know, they just can’t get my nose right.”

The elf edges closer, parchment still in her arms, thinking that this was not the way she’d expected to have an audience. “I… Your Majesty?”

The king turns abruptly. “Right, sorry, hello.” He smiles in a way that almost looks genuine, for a shem noble. “Corani Valethan?”

Corani nods. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Good to know they didn’t drag the wrong representative in here. That happened once with the Orlesians, it was embarrassing. Anyhow… I was just thinking.” The king gestures to the portrait on the wall, the thing he must have been looking at. “It always feels a bit… self-aggrandising putting pictures of me around this place. It’s not like they’re about to forget that by the way, still king. I almost wonder if I should have one for every mood, you know? Angry me. Happy me. Regal me? I’ve never been much good at regal. One already feels like too much.” He clears his throat. “I’m rambling. I apologise. I’ve just had some very good news. But your proposal for the former Alienage…” The king walks to a great oak desk, and waves a hand. “I’ve heard good things. A lot of them.”

After staring at that display, Corani realises that this is… actually happening. She tentatively moves forwards and lays the parchment she’s been holding down on the desk, unfolding it slowly, and she mumbles, “So have I.”

He sounds surprised. “You… have?”

“About… you, Your Majesty. They said I’d be granted an audience. They said you were, uh…” She clears her throat. “’One of the good ones.’”

He laughs at that, and that’s too honest for a shem and all. “I’m trying,” he says quietly. “Believe me.”

It's the strangest thing: she looks into his eyes, and she does.

[lady-thor-foster]

Hours in Midnight // Thor x Reader

Pairing: Thor x Reader (POC) Word Count: 4k+ Warning: Angst, Fluff, a bad word or two, a smut mention if you squint real hard, SLOOOOW BURRRRNNNNNNN Summary: Thor shows Reader she’s so much more than the demons in her head make her believe. Friendship is magic. Side note: Thor got a monster peen pass it on. Bonus Sam Wilson! 

A/N: I cannot believe it’s taken me this long to write a Thor fic. I also study Norse Theology so I felt it a bit appropriate to include some of it in here. If you guys like this, I’ll consider adding more part(s)! Feedback is absolutely welcome. This is also unbeta'd. I'll go back and fix grammar and spelling errors when I can. Let me know if you spot some!

Inspiration: “I Don’t Want to Change You” ~ Damien Rice

“Where ever you go, Well, I can always follow I can feed this real slow If it’s a lot to swallow. And if you want to be alone Well, I can wait without waiting If you want me to let this go Well, I’m more than willing…”

Part 2

It wasn’t the first time Thor found you hidden in some small dark corner, weeping softly. It probably wouldn’t be the last.

He was the last person you’d expect to even be looking for you. He was loud where you were quiet, exuberant where you were despondent. He was boisterous where you sought shelter in silence. He was everything you wished you could be. You honestly didn’t think he knew you existed.

Thor had been scouring the Compound looking for you for the last thirty minutes. It wasn’t like you to miss the Avenger’s weekly Netflix dates to teach Thor, Steve and Bucky more about modern society. You were never late. Despite the sunbeam that was Thor’s personality, he was always quick to notice how quiet and soft spoken you were. You unobtrusive demeanour served you well as a spy; people rarely noticed you unless you wanted them to.

“Lady [Y/N]!” his thunderous voice carried throughout the Compound. You could feel the walls shudder softly. You prayed he wouldn’t find you; the thought of anyone seeing you at your lowest made it even harder to breathe. You were a spy for SHIELD and the Avengers: mental strength and emotional stability were in the job description. Apparently the universe had something else in mind.

Thor’s ears picked up soft yet panicked crying coming from the hall closet. His chest constricted in fear when he recognized your breathless sobs. Not again. He opened the door to find you sitting with your knees to your chest and your arms wrapped tightly around yourself. Your body heaved with voiceless sobs as the memories of your damaged past flayed your tormented soul. His heart broke at the sight.

You were so far gone into your internal war that you hardly noticed strong, sturdy arms lifting you with a surprising gentleness. You hardly noticed the way your arms clung to impossibly broad shoulders seeking support for a weakened foundation. You cried softly into his chest. He smelled like sunshine and rain. Pressing a soothing kiss to the top of your head, he carried you away; leaving you alone was no longer an option.

—

Waking up had never felt so safe. A large arm was wrapped protectively around your waist, fingers curling softly around your tummy. The room around you smelled like rain and sandalwood. Stretching your toes revealed massive feet tucked under yours; you’d never felt so shielded from the world. You opened your eyes to take in your surroundings but were greeted by an oddly comforting darkness. Glancing at the ceiling, you discovered an incredibly large ocular skylight; nearly every star was visible from the bed. Further inspection of the room revealed a single telltale clue of its inhabitant: Mjolnir glowing faintly on a chair opposite the bed. Thor, you thought. As if he could sense your mental whisper of his name, the Norse god stirred quietly around you.

“You’re awake,” he murmured. It wasn’t a question, merely an acknowledgment or observation. You weren’t sure he really wanted a response. Turning to face him, you were met with a sleepy gaze and a warm smile.

“Hi,” you whispered, shyly. His grin grew larger.

“Hello.” Despite the fact that he hadn’t said more than 3 words to you, it was the longest conversation you could remember having with him. Now, here you were, snuggling with one of the most powerful beings you’d ever met in your life.

“Um…Thor?”

“Yes, My Lady?”

“Not that I’m complaining by any means…but…how did I get here?” you asked. A look of surprise flitted past his face at your lack of memory; it was quickly replaced with concern. It was a crime that someone could appear so beautiful while worried.

“I found you,” he said simply.

Under the weight of his words, the memories of being lost in your own mind in a hall closet came rushing back. You gasped as the pain of your past shredded your heart once again.

Thor’s grip on your waist tightened; he pulled you closer. “Shh, My Lady; you are safe now. No harm shall come to pass so long as I have you.”

The urge to cry was pressing yet your eyes refused to cooperate. Burying your head into his chest, you fought to push the anguish back into its prison. You were an agent of SHIELD. You were stronger than this. A realization hit and you chuckled quietly.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“That still doesn’t explain how I ended up in my pjs and in your bed.” When he didn’t immediately respond, you pulled away to gaze at his handsome face. He sheepishly met your inquisitive stare.

“I had planned to take you to your chambers; Lady Natasha advised that you should not be alone. She offered to help you get more comfortable and stay. You didn’t seem to want to stay in your chambers nor did you want me to leave. So I brought you here. It didn’t take long for you to sleep.” He seemed to be afraid of your response; you could see how guarded his eyes were for your potential rejection. You gave him a small smile.

“Thank you, Thor,” you whispered.

“Anytime, My Lady.”

You grinned again. “You can call me, “[Y/N].”

“Anytime, [Y/N].”

“You know, of all the ways I thought this day would end, snuggling with Thor was not one of them.” He laughed easily and the bed rumbled. It was a sound that always seemed to fill you with happiness, without fail.

“Well, I hope I didn’t disappoint,” he said with a lopsided smile.

“On the contrary, snuggling with a god was at the top of my bucket list and you have just made all my dreams come true,” you sassed.

“I am happy I could provide such satisfaction, My Lady.”

“[Y/N],” you chided.

“[Y/N],” he repeated.

Grinning widely, your gaze flickered to his soft looking mouth. You briefly wondered what it would be like to kiss him; his seemingly omnipotent eyes noticed. A large hand came up to tuck a strand of your thick and curly wayward hair behind your ear. The brief pass of his fingers on your cheek left your darkened copper skin covered in goosebumps. Butterflies eagerly dance in your tummy.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re as beautiful as the night sky? It’s as if the Goddess Nott shaped you herself: equal parts dark and stunning,” he said. If you could blush visibly, you’d be redder than his cape.

“Are all Asgardians this good with words, or are you just trying to impress me?”

“I am nothing if not honest, My Lady.” 

“[Y/N],” you reminded. 

“My Lady [Y/N],” he teased. 

“You’re not letting that go anytime soon, are you?” He shook his head earnestly. The scent of his luxurious hair wafted to your nose; no wonder the room smelled like rain.

“Where I come from, you must always give a Lady her respect and title.” Damn that man and his regal composure.

“You say that as if I’m royalty.”

“Would you prefer I called you ‘Princess’?” he asked, a teasing grin never leaving his face.

“You know…that could grow on me pretty quickly.” He laughed again. Damn, you’d never get sick of hearing that. A brief glance to the stars behind the skylight left you wondering just how long you’d been sharing a bed with Thor.

“What time is it,” you wondered. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand behind you.

“2:43am.”

“Holy shit! How long have we been asleep?” Panic flared in your chest when you realized you’d missed your meetings with Fury and Coulson today. Sensing you were about to leave and anxious, Thor pulled you closer to his chest.

“Relax,” his deep voice rumbled in your ear, “Lady Natasha took care of everything. Everyone understands. The Son of Coul mentioned you have been pushing yourself too hard lately. He was kind enough to grant you a few days of rest.”

You were surprised at everyone’s consideration. You’d never been one to take days off or vacations. Working was the only thing that really kept your mind occupied and off your memories. Maybe it was time to start opening up; maybe making friends wasn’t as dastardly as it seemed.

“So what you’re saying is I don’t have to leave the comfort of your bed any time soon?” you mumbled into Thor’s chest. You ears were greeted with the comforting sound of his rumbling laughter.

Thor wasn’t ready to admit it yet, but he was absolutely elated that you wanted to spend your night with him. Waking up to your warm yet walled off eyes and soft, easy smile was even better than he could have dared to dream. The scent of your skin permeated his and he wondered how he could smell like you for eternity. The way you fit into his body was nothing short of an unexpected fate woven by the Norns. Even Mjolnir felt comfortable enough around you to glow with contentment. By the All-Father. It had been so long since he’d even glimpsed such happiness.

“If that is what you wish Princess: that is what you shall have.” Settling into his arms, you closed your yes. A melodic harmony filled the air. Just before sleep claimed your consciousness, you realized Thor was singing you a lullaby. Everything was going to be okay.

—

The smell of maple bacon was what woke you up. Opening your eyes wasn’t such a struggle when something wonderful was waiting for you. Cracking open one lid, you were pleasantly surprised to find Thor quietly setting a breakfast tray. It was almost comical really; someone that massive should not reasonably be able to be so agile.

“If this is what Heaven looks like can I just say I’m glad I converted to polytheism?” you snickered. Thor seemed to know you were awake before you did, so the sound of your voice did little more than elicit a snort from him.

“May I ask what prompted such a conversion?” he asked while putting the finishing touches on your tray.

“A certain Asgardian crash landed in New Mexico and proved that everything we knew about deities was slightly incorrect.” A louder chortle made your heart flutter. What was it about him that seemed so compelling? He finally deemed his masterpiece perfection and approached you with a massive pile of waffles, fruit, bacon, sausage and a couple of glasses of juice. You couldn’t think of words to even begin to comprehend such a gesture; he sat the tray in the middle of the bed and reclaimed his position next to you. You stared at him in utter confusion.

“Uh…Thor?”

“Yes, Princess?”

“You’re aware that Midgardians don’t eat this much, aren’t you?”

He looked so crestfallen in that moment you immediately wanted to punch yourself in the face. With a brick. Way to go, [Y/N]. You’d somehow managed to find the Asgardian equivalent of kicking a puppy.

“Should I…have not done this?” he asked, worriedly. The dejection in his voice could have shattered even the iciest of hearts.

“Oh, no Thor! This is absolutely perfect! It’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. I love it, I promise.” Your quick reassurance was rewarded with a smile so blindingly bright you wondered if he weren’t the god of day instead.

“Would you…maybe like to eat some with me?” you asked tentatively.

“If it should so please you, I would be happy to dine with you!” he replied. It was your turn to smile.

Eating breakfast in bed with Thor seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Your body buzzed with happiness as you both shared carefree conversation and delicious food. Despite being from a different world, there were an astonishing number of similarities between the two of you.

Thor was surprised at the level of ease the both of you felt with one another. Sharing a meal with a friend was always a time to be revered but there was something more between the two of you. He found himself admiring you, wholly entranced with the way your tongue flicked out to catch unsuspecting crumbs or how your hands danced a Russian ballet while you unknowingly signed words that you were speaking. The way the sunlight danced on your brown skin made you look shimmer golden. It was as if Dagr, the god of Day had blessed you with coveted rays of the sun. Thor was infatuated with your very essence; his soul danced in your company.

Breakfast ended all too early. You gazed at Thor with sleepy eyes and thanked him again for his unending kindness. It’d been a long time since someone treated you with any amount of selfless compassion. While he cleared away your collective mess, against your protestations about helping, you decided a shower sounded like the perfect way to compliment the feeling of a fantastic breakfast.

You were surprised once again to find another pair of your pajamas and a few toiletries as well as your blow dryer waiting in his bathroom. Thank you to the all-knowing and ever prepared Natasha Romanoff. Warm water washed away any lingering traces of your previous day, leaving nothing but contentment in its wake. The scent of your favourite lavender cleansing conditioner calmed and centered you. Maybe Coulson was right, a few days off is exactly what you need to get yourself back together. Stepping out of the shower and drying yourself off, you dressed in your suspiciously carefully chosen pajamas. A large comfy tee shirt (you might have stolen it from Thor’s laundry one day) and matching shorts. If Natasha was attempting to be subtle about your time in Thor’s bed, she was failing miserably. Shaking off those unnecessary thoughts, you exited the bathroom. Thor had returned while you were in the shower and was relaxing in bed with a book. You weren’t exactly sure if he’d mind you invading his space any longer than you already had.

“Hey, Thor?” you called out, fiddling with one of your curly strands of slightly damp hair. He looked up from his book; he was met with the sight of you in…is that his tee shirt? He gulped and pretended not to notice.

“Yes, Princess?” You didn’t miss how his voice had deepened ever so slightly. Of course he recognized his tee shirt.

“Would you mind if I stayed a while longer?”

Pulling back the covers on what was now your side of the bed, he patted it gently. “You may stay as long as you wish.”

The icy cold tile of his bedroom was a stark contrast to the warm ones of the bathroom. Stepping quickly, you raced for the safety of the blankets. He chuckled lightly at your antics and returned to his book. There was something that was so intrinsically right about spending time together like this. It was almost as if you’d done it a thousand times before. With a full tummy, you were asleep before your head hit the pillow.

Thor wasn’t entirely sure what to make of the sight of you wearing his tee shirt while in his bed. He wasn’t ready to cross that line just yet. You weren’t ready to cross that line just yet. Damn if you didn’t look sexy as hell. His bed didn’t seem to smell like just him anymore. Your scents complimented each other the way a rose compliments a beautiful lover. His book was no longer interesting; the wonders of Harry Potter would have to wait another time. He settled down next to you and was a little shocked when one of your arms snaked itself around his waist. Even in your sleep, you always seemed to be reaching out for him. He pulled you closer; the sound of contentment that escaped your lips sent his heart racing. Thor wasn’t sure he could let you go after these. He definitely didn’t plan on it anytime soon.

—

The next few days were a snapshot of vacation bliss. Somehow your sleeping schedule and Thor’s aligned so that your best hours together were under the cover of the stars. Breakfast in bed had become your favourite past time. Thor noticed that you weren’t exactly getting to know each other, merely rediscovering the foundation of something that spanned ages. How curious. In just a few days, finishing each other’s sentences, sandwiches and thoughts had become normal.

The hours in midnight seemed to be never ending. Something more than friendship had blossomed between you both, yet neither one of you seemed ready to acknowledge it.  You couldn’t recall a time when you’d laughed so hard or so often. Smiling became as easy as breathing. The bubbly, easy going person you used to be was slowly unearthed under a pyramid of anguish. Thor’s kind words and endless patience helped you realise you weren’t what your past made you. He helped to rediscover you.

It didn’t take Thor very long to realise he could fall for you. He could see a wondrous future for the two of you and he could crave it more than air. Watching you blossom before his very eyes was like seeing a lily unfold. The heaviness that plagued your mind lessened; the pain that weighted your heart diminished. Your dimpled smile rivalled the brightest star in the known universe. With your quick wit, patience and jovial humor, he knew you’d fit into Asgard well. He caught himself wishing he could bring you. How he longed to see your face when you saw the Great Hall for the first time. He was beginning to dread the end of your vacation.

“Princess?” he called. You were absentmindedly twirling strands hair while pretending to watch a movie. You were actually watching him fret for the last 15 minutes from the corner of your eye.

“Our time has come to an unfortunate end. By morrow, you must return to your duties,” he stated sadly. Wrapping your arms protectively around your waist, you sighed quietly. His Asgardian ears missed nothing.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Does this mean you will no longer slumber in my chambers?” he asked softly.

This took you by complete surprise. Did he…want you to stay? Half of your heart dared had to hope Thor would want something deeper than friendship. You kept that half quiet out of fear. Could it be…these fears…were unfounded?

“Do you want me to stay?”

The dreaded question hung in the air. Tension was as thick as Tony’s ego. You could feel his eyes boring holes into your face, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet them just yet. You hugged yourself tighter. He sat up and pulled your gaze to his. You didn’t miss the way his lips were mere inches from yours. The urge to kiss him was nearly unbearable to ignore.

“Is it selfish of me to wish to keep you here until the end of days?” he murmured. A soft gasp graced his ears. Nothing short of Ragnarok could tear him from you in this moment.

“No,” you whispered. He grinned. His fingers were still cupped around your chin; you could almost swear he was pulling you closer.

“Thor?” you whispered again.

“Yes, Princess?” he asked. He noted the way your breath hitched in your throat at the once playful nickname. He gulped harshly.

“Kiss me.”

The demand had scarcely left your mouth before his lips were pressed firmly against yours. A flash of lightning illuminated the room followed by the ferocious roar of thunder. The sound of rain echoed over the blood rushing in your ears as his lips moved harmoniously against yours. After four days of sharing the same bed, Thor finally kissed you.  

Kissing Thor was electrifying. Pun absolutely intended. He kissed you so thoroughly and passionately, you knew you’d be begging for mercy if his mouth were anywhere else but yours. His gentle tongue teased yours with such skill that you could feel your body burn in absolute unadulterated desire. Strong arms held you firmly against his chest; you could feel a racing heart that matched your own.

Thor was drunk on the way you tasted. Your slender, deft fingers curling in his hair could have been his undoing. They still might very well be. His powers surged under the rush of your kisses. Lightning flashed, thunder reverberated, rain poured. He knew he should reign in it, but he couldn’t be bothered to care about anything more than the way your soft body molded into his. A whimper left your throat and he groaned in response. It wasn’t just a need for more, it was a yearning.

Loud knocks on the door startled you both. Thor pulled away from your intoxicating kisses. Sam’s voice came through from the other side.

“Hey ThunderBoy! I don’t want to know what you’re doing in there but could you ease up on the typhoon outside? We’re getting reports of minor flooding and you know how Fury gets when one of your storms gets out of control. Come on, man.”

“My apologies, Sir Falcon. I shall rectify it immediately,” he replied. No sooner had the words left his mouth did the storm lessen. The faint sound of rain barely masked Sam’s retreating footsteps. The two of you were still breathing heavily. Thor’s arms were still around your waist; your fingers were still in his hair.

“Did I do that?” you giggled breathlessly.

“You have no idea the effect you have on me.”

“I just…wow. Wow.”

“Have I pleased you, Princess?”

“Pleased me? Holy shit Thor! You just rocked my goddamn world, literally, and all you did was kiss me. I’d say you did more than just please me, ThunderBoy.”  Boisterous laughter echoed through the room. You couldn’t help be feel a bit embarrassed at your rambling. He shifted ever so slightly and you were suddenly aware his chest wasn’t the only thing pressing against you.

“Is that Mjolnir in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” you asked. If you weren’t staring directly at his face, you would have missed the stunning way embarrassment stained the Asgardian god’s cheeks.

“A thousand apologies, My Lady, it was never my intention to pressure you into any beyond what you wish to give me.” He quickly detangled himself from you. A quick glance downwards revealed nothing short of legendary. Oh my gods.

“You know, I still like ‘Princess’ better,” you scolded playfully. He tossed you a cheeky grin as he left the bed. The bathroom door closed behind him and you collapsed back onto the mattress. Running your fingers against your still tingling lips, you replayed the memory of that epic kiss. The sound of a shower running shook you from your reverie and you wondered just how far you could push your luck tonight.

“Thor?” you called out.

“Yes, Princess?” he replied. A few kisses and a nickname and you were already ruined for other men.

“Would it be too much if I joined you in the shower?”

Thor nearly choked on his words. You might just be the death of him tonight. He didn’t think he had enough of his control back to even risk what you were suggesting right now. A strangled noise left his throat as his mind tormented him with different ways he could have you right now, right here. All-Father grant him the strength. He could sense your presence outside the bathroom rood. It took every ounce of his control not to fling open the door and revel in what you were so freely offering him. What you were so carelessly dangling in front of him. The rush of blood from his brain made him incredibly light headed. His heart pounded. His knees were beginning to fail him. This never happened. Turning the shower as icy as it would go, Thor fought his heated desires so he could attempt to think straight.

“Thor?”

“I think we’ve cause enough trouble for one night, Princess,” he said. Disappointment filled you both. Surprisingly enough, you didn’t feel rejected. The promise of ‘next time’ hung in the air. Crawling into bed, you felt deliriously euphoric.

Twenty minutes later, the shower turned off. A few moments later, a stunning and shirtless Asgardian god stepped into the room. Despite the darkness, Thor was highly aware of your eyes on him. He could hear your breathing quicken ever so slightly; he suddenly felt the need to transport himself to Jotunheim. Naked. Dressing quickly, he crawled into bed and pulled you to his chest. You curled around him and fell into sleep easily. He listened to your steady breathing and let his mind wander. Tonight is the last time he gets you all to himself with no interruptions for a while.

What happens now?

END P1.

Tags (OPEN)

@emilyevanston @lancefuckrr @morgandakotaq @negasonic-teenage-what-da-shit @redstarstan @redgillan

[alexandria-theprettygood]

Ok so I should really be doing homework but like I saw beauty and the beast again today and I just want to get some ideas out

So what if instead of Belle loving the beast, Maurice is the one that has to stay in the castle and he basically adopts the beast as his new son

So like, Belle doesn’t go looking for maurice cause he was supposed to be gone for a week or more or something like that. And Felipe was in the stable at the castle, so he couldn’t run back and get her. So Maurice gets to the castle like normal, gets freaked out by all the talking furniture, beast locks him in the dungeon, and he sits there for a day or maybe two.

But then the servants help him liked they helped Belle, give him a room, serve him dinner, all that stuff. Beast finds out, throws a tantrum but the servants calm him down, saying things like “he’s an old man, we couldn’t just leave him to freeze”. And beast allows it, though he’s not happy about it (as per normal). And so beast spends the next couple days avoiding Maurice, which isn’t that hard to do as he barely comes out of the room except for dinner and a little exploration at night (Belle had to get her curiosity from somewhere).

The entire time though, as beast is complaining about the other person in the castle, Maurice is absolutely gushing about Belle to anyone with or without ears. They hear about how smart and beautiful and kind she is, over and over again. And the servants think, sadly, how it could have happened had his daughter come instead of him. The only one that really keeps up hope that he can help is Mrs. Potts, because she Knows.

And then, one of his nights exploring, he inevitably wanders his way into the West wing. Cue beasts freak out, and the whole thing with the wolves. Maurice, of course, gets beast back to the castle, and helps nurse him back to health. And then he hears all about beasts background. His mother’s death, his father’s cruelty, everything. And at this point Maurice is kinda just thinking, “I’m your father now” because he can start to see why the servants care so much.

And the next few days, as beast is nursed back to health, Maurice tells him stories like he used to tell Belle, about fairies and princes, and princesses and happily ever after. And beast loves it, because he hasn’t been cared for like this since his mother died, because after his mother, his father took control and the servants tried to help, but they couldn’t disrespect the king. So Maurice coming in and caring for him like his father should have makes him a little sad, but mostly happy. Cue a ton of bonding between Maurice and beast (beast still won’t say his name). Things like the snowball fight and stories in the library and Maurice trying to teach beast how to paint (the claws make it difficult). And throughout the entire thing they basically adopt each other.

Now don’t get me wrong, Maurice of course misses Belle, but he trusts that she can take care of herself, she takes after he mother in that respect. And Maurice has long since been considered a prisoner and so he knows that he’ll get back to her, but there’s another Chile that needs his help more. And he still gushes about her to everyone, which now includes beast. The amount of times he’s heard the stories about how much Belle loves books or how good of an inventor she is is incredible and beast would like to meet her, if not for him being, well, a beast.

So now like two weeks have passed and Belle has been doing fine. She’s had to dodge a lot more of Gaston’s advances but she successfully shoots him down every time. Her and Lefou build up a bit of a repertoire, simply from how much they are in each other’s presence. But their differing opinions on Gaston prevent them from forming any lasting friendship…Yet. But this thing is already too long so I’ll get to the point.

Now she’s thinking that her father should have been back by now, and she’s getting worried. She hasn’t heard anything, good or bad, on where he might be and he’s always back on the day he says. So belle grits her teeth, puts on her fakest smile, and asks the best tracker in the village if he can help. Gaston of course readily agrees, thinking that this is a step in the right direction, her going to him for help. They go out, find the fallen tree, the new path, the broken cart and Belle gets more and more worried. Cue the castle. Belle, being more fearless that either of the boys goes straight for the front door and gets let in. She wanders around a bit, and by this time the entire household Knows that this is Maurice’s daughter and they get so excited. So they all, unobtrusively so as not to scare her away, lead her towards her father in the library. Then comes the happy reunion, moderate explanations, introduction to the living castle and all that.

Meanwhile, the boys venture into the castle after Belle and the servants are so excited that they don’t realize they have more guests until Gaston shrieks and tries to shoot a coat hanger. This, of course, fails and they’re left to try to get out of the haunted castle. In their running, they encounter beast, who had heard from Mrs Potts that Belle was in the castle and was on his way to meet her. The boys freak, running in different directions. Lefou runs to hide deeper in the castle thinking Gaston is following him, Gaston runs back to the front door and is halfway off the grounds before he realizes that he left both Belle and lefou back there. He then keeps going, getting a plan in his head to get back to the village and get a mob going to save his bride to be (and Lefou too, I guess).

Now, Maurice has explained everything to Belle and they hear all this happening. They go running, see beast just standing there, very confused, and Belle realizes that the boys must have come in after her. One of the servants then comes up to Maurice, saying the shorter man ran deeper into the castle. Maurice then leaves Belle and beast to see if he can convince Lefou that he’s not in any danger. Belle and beast then start talking , mostly about Maurice at first, then books and the like, and they hit it off, no weird first meeting, no bad impressions, just Maurice gushing about one to the other. Maurice soon finds Lefou, terrified, and somehow convinced him that the giant monster and talking furniture mean him no harm. The fact that Maurice lived there for the past two weeks and that he was apparently hiding in a sentient wardrobe helped. The four of them then cohabitate for a nice day until the fighting starts.

Gaston gets back to the village, whips up an angry mob and sets off to play hero. As the fight goes on, Belle and Lefou fight with the furniture while Maurice goes to warn beast, who was up in the tower, pining. Gaston sees him go and follows. The fight on the towers consists of a good amount of yelling from Maurice, Gaston trying to push him off the tower, and beast jumping in to save him. As Maurice is pulled up to safety, Gaston shoots beast from behind. The kickback from the rifle sends Gaston careening off the already unsteady tower and Maurice and beast are left alone. Maurice is trying to calm beast, saying that he’ll be fine as he tries to stop the bleeding and calling him things like “son” and “my boy”. Meanwhile beast is just happy that maurice is alright and that he got to see Belle. Before beast passes out, he faintly says “thank you” and “I love you”. Maurice starts freaking, trying to keep him awake and saying he loves him back. Agatha walks in, hears this, and heals the castle from the curse. Once beast is turned back, Maurice instantly knows it’s him. Only he would stand as if he still had backwards facing knees. They go downstairs, everyone is ecstatic, lots of happy reunions. Maurice and Belle end up living in the castle with everyone, and her and beast (now Adam) fall in love in their own time. And they all lived happily ever after.

[celtictrinity]

chapter 5

    “You boys look like you need more than fruit.”

    Two pairs of startled green and gold eyes turn towards the voice, a short, plump black woman with sympathy in dark eyes watching them stare at the selection of apples as though they held answers to the confusion that had become their life.

    “Come with me then. You need a good meal and some real rest and more answers than you’ll find staring at those apples.”

    Matching frowns and wariness now as they gaze at the woman who seems vaguely familiar but they’re sure they don’t know.

    “It’s been years and you’re bigger than you were but I recognize John Winchester’s boys.”

                                                 * * *

     Sam and Ben hadn’t given real thought on how one stopped a god, caught up in getting the harvest finished and the newly unlocked memories that kept rising and slotting into place, filling in bits of holes they hadn’t noticed because they’d been so young when the holes were put there. But after hearing Cinda’s story both of them were more than willing to find out if there was a way to kill a god. The haunted horror that had lit beloved sea green eyes had torn at both of them, leaving a heart bruise behind and the beginnings of a burning rage.

    John had put them through a lot but he’d never tortured them (trying to separate them didn’t count, even if it felt a betrayal every time the man tried to do so). He’d never beat them (at least not hard enough to leave lash marks like an accusation on their skin, just bruises and they could handle bruises) for no reason except that they hadn’t done something perfect the first time. John had been many things but he’d been more afraid than anything. The twins had always known that. He hadn’t been the kind of monster Cinda’s father was (and never mind that she didn’t agree, she didn’t understand, John hadn’t known how to handle the twins being different).

    As they finished the rest of the harvest, unobtrusively keeping an eye on their subdued fire witch, they tried to figure out how one went about taking out a god.

    “We’re gonna have to try Bobby,” Sam said as they worked on washing extra vegetables and fruits they were taking to the Farmer’s Market tomorrow. They had a stall there that they kept rented all through the summer and fall to sell the extra produce for money. They made a fairly tidy little sum to add to their account. They didn’t have a lot but they were doing fairly well for not having had much experience in the world until they were 17. Bobby had had to teach them about things like banks and accounts and debit cards, faintly scandalized that John hadn’t bothered to teach his sons anything about how the world worked in any meaningful way.

    Ben grunted then sighed. He’d hoped they could figure this out on their own, just the three of them. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Bobby because he did. The gruff, older occult specialist had helped them a lot and they owed him, for their current residence if nothing else. The man hadn’t had to take them under his wing and teach them but he had.

    “He’s got more books we can research than we have here and he might have a better clue as to how… how to handle this mess. It’s not going away. It would be better to get ahead of it rather than wait for it to come and bite our asses.” Sam sounded reasonable but Ben wondered who his twin was trying to convince.

    “I’m not against it. I just…,” Ben paused and looked at Sam. “Bobby hasn’t met her yet. He doesn’t know her like we do. That’s gonna make him suspicious and I don’t want him to be suspicious of her, especially now. She’s bruised enough.”

    “I know,” Sam said quietly. He glanced towards the bedroom where Cinda was taking a nap, exhausted after having woken from nightmares the night before. Then he looked at Ben. “I know. I don’t want that either. But I don’t have any other ideas and I can’t help but feel like there’s a clock ticking down somewhere. We don’t have a lot of time. Eventually he’s going to come looking for us and right now we aren’t ready.”

    Ben chewed his lip and silently finished cleaning the batch of late summer squash he was working on. Once he was done, he sighed heavily again. “You’re right. The only other person we know is Missouri and she doesn’t have the extensive library Bobby has. It’s gonna take a damn lot of time to sift through what he has looking for some hint or clue on how to stop a damn god.”

    He dried his hands and shoved his hair out of his face before turning to look at his twin. “How did we get stuck with this? All we wanted was a quiet place to live our lives in peace. Is that too much to ask?”

    Sam pulled Ben into a tight hug and held him for a long moment. He got it. He wasn’t exactly happy about this whole thing either. They hadn’t asked for any of this. And while it was nice to know their mother hadn’t abandoned them, that they had been right and she had loved them, this was still bigger than anything they could have imagined.

    “I don’t know why, Ben,” Sam said softly. “We used to wonder why we had these powers, why we were so different. Maybe this is why. And no, we didn’t ask for it, but how much in our life did we ask for? It’s the same thing just… bigger. And we have to do this for her.”

    Ben held the hug for another long moment before pulling away and moving to drop into one of the kitchen chairs. “So, we’ll call Bobby and see if he’s up for an extended visit from us.” Ben sounded almost resigned, but not quite. A glance towards the bedroom firmed his jaw and he looked back to Sam. “For her I’ll even fight with stupid research.”

    Sam gave his twin a sympathetic smile as he dried his own hands and moved to sit next to him, elbows on the kitchen table. Ben was every bit as smart as he was but reading was just not his thing. He’d struggled with it all their lives. Sam had always been more than happy to read to Ben so he didn’t have to fight with it, knowing it made his twin feel like he was dumb not to be able to fight his way through the words that seemed to swim on the page and rearrange themselves into unintelligible gibberish when he tried to read. Sam knew Ben was far from dumb but it was something that lingered.

    “I’ll call Bobby this evening, make sure he’s up for having us. We were planning to introduce Cinda to him anyway. He’s the closest thing to family we got.”

    They sat at the table in silence then, looking towards the bedroom where part of their hearts was sleeping restlessly though not having nightmares, thank all the gods. The twins were going to do whatever they had to so that Cinda could sleep at nights again. Even if that meant killing a god.

                                                  * * *

     Sam and Ben met Missouri Mosely just before they turned 18, after a rough, overwhelming winter of trying to find enough work to be able to eat, learning that hitchhiking was harder than it looked when they were both big guys who appeared threatening, and trying to adjust to all of the people there were in the world. It had been hard, bewildering, and only the sheer stubbornness they were both known for kept them going when they could have swallowed down their pride and gone back to their father.

    But they couldn’t, not really. John had been getting more erratic as he’d grown older and had tried putting more restrictions on the boys than they already had. His fear of them grated against the boys daily until they finally decided for all their sanity them leaving was the best thing.

    They’d been wary of the woman they met at the Farmer’s Market as they tried to figure out what the meager amount of money they had between them would allow them to get. They weren’t keen on fast food, having spent years at this point living off the land as much as possible. And the sheer amount of people was overwhelming, kept them skittish and wary.

    Missouri mentioning their father hadn’t helped their wariness of her. But the promise of a meal and a bed and the fact that she didn’t seem afraid of them drew them to follow her. Sam had thought it was odd that this woman was willing to take two strangers into her home, whether she’d known their father or not.

    What they learned over the course of that night was that Missouri was a powerful psychic. They hadn’t yet run into anyone who seemed to have any of the powers they had and they’d started to wonder if they were the only ones in the world with them. But Missouri knew things. It was slightly unnerving and they wondered if this was how their father felt around them.

    Unnerving it might have been, but Missouri wasn’t afraid of them and she had a brisk, motherly sympathy that wasn’t any kind of pity and the twins soaked it up. It was nice being around someone who didn’t echo of sweat drenched fear and the stink of whiskey.

    They stayed with Missouri for two weeks as she explained to them that yes, there were other people who had powers and abilities like them in the world, and they often had a hard time of it when those they lived with didn’t understand them or feared them. The twins were fascinated to learn that there were others like them out there, other people who could do the things they did.

    During the two weeks they stayed at Missouri’s, doing housework for their keep and trying not to be as openly affectionate as they would have been otherwise (they’d already learned that people looked at them oddly, the amount of touching they were accustomed to doing, more oddly than even John did) so as not to make her uncomfortable. Missouri explained about the various kind of psychic abilities and magic abilities and supernatural abilities that existed in the world. She taught them some basics, like psychic shielding and grounding to keep emotions of others from drowning and overwhelming them.

    The twins picked things up rapidly. So fast that Missouri was surprised that they could master things that, she said, it often took people weeks, months or years to master.

    Finally, she told them about an occult specialist she knew in South Dakota who could likely help them more than she could. He didn’t have powers like they did but he had far more books on lore and various things and could help them try to find some way to get a handle on what they could do. She even bought the bus tickets for them (she was horrified to learn they’d been hitchhiking for months) and told them she’d call the man to let him know they were coming.

    Bobby Singer was not at all what they expected, the first time they saw him. A gruff man about their father’s age and dressed much the same they wondered if Missouri had set them up. They couldn’t believe she would have, though. Their instincts were good and those instincts had told them they could trust Missouri.

    It turned out Bobby also knew their father. Though he was far less sympathetic of John Winchester than Missouri had been. Bobby took a long look at the twins and grunted softly before telling them to grabs their bags and come on then.

    The twin’s wariness had come back though there was nothing about the man to suggest he’d cause them harm. But he was a stranger, no matter what Missouri had said.

    They didn’t talk much until they got to Bobby’s house. Bobby kept giving them penetrating looks, studying them and taking in the wariness about them both. When they got to his place Bobby had showed them to the guest room, apologized that they’d have to share a full bed, told them to come downstairs when they were settled in.

    When they had, Bobby hadn’t minced words. He’d called John ten kinds of fool and told Sam and Ben they were damn brave to have attempted to make their way in the world without knowing anything about what they’d dived right into.

    Bobby’s gruff kindness sat with the twins easier than Missouri’s motherly concern. Bobby told the twins they could stay with him until they got a handle on making their way, he’d be more than happy to pay them for work around the salvage yard or help them find jobs in town so they could save some money and not live like hobos or runaways.

    Bobby helped them get IDs, taught them to drive, taught them to take a car apart and put it back together again so it’d work. Ben was more mechanically inclined than Sam was, though Sam wasn’t bad at it. But Sam was absolutely fascinated with the huge occult library Bobby had. Besides the official library room, there were piles of books all over Bobby’s house that made Sam’s eyes light like a child on Christmas day.

    Bobby wasn’t put off by the twin’s powers, took it in stride. Said Missouri had called him, told him a little about them and that they were free to have the run of his library for as long as they were there to look up anything they thought might help them.

    Ben let Sam do most of the looking up and finding shit on account of Sam being able to read better and faster. Both boys were used to hard work and in lieu of not having a garden to care for or having to hunt they kept Bobby’s place neat, worked in the salvage yard and eventually got jobs in town.

    Bobby flat refused to take any money from them, instead helping them set up banking accounts as Sam pored over the many books in Bobby’s place or helped Ben with his pet project of an old truck that had seen better days but he’d taken a liking to.

    The boys stayed with Bobby for a little over a year, settling in to a new kind of life, before they got restless. Having someone who didn’t fear their abilities allowed them to stop hiding them as hard as they had been around John. Who they didn’t talk about much. Bobby didn’t have much good to say about John the more he learned how much the boys didn’t know about how the world worked, said Mary would never have wanted her boys to grow up so ignorant of the world. And for all Bobby seemed to have a little bit of sympathy for John, he thought John going all the way to one of those doomsday preppers who thought the end of the world was around the corner had been an extreme reaction to whatever had gone down when the twins were only four and a half.

    If Bobby knew more than the twins did about what happened that night, he never spoke of it, though the twins eventually learned Bobby had been instrumental in helping John find the bunker the twins had grown up in. The gruff older man seemed almost apologetic when he told Sam and Ben, said he hadn’t thought John would hole up there for years and years, had thought John had just needed some time to come to terms with what had happened.

    Sam and Ben hadn’t known that there was a term for how they’d lived, or that there were other people who believed as John did, that angels and demons were going to destroy the world and there was nothing humankind could do to stop it other than hunker down and try to survive the fallout. The twins had often wondered, when John would look at them a certain way, if their father had wondered if they counted as humankind.

    About the time they got restless, Ben and Sam had finished rebuilding the old truck and Bobby had finally taught them both to drive. Bobby gifted them the truck, told them as long as they took care of her, she’d always gets them where they wanted to go, along with some property with a house in the mountains of Colorado that he thought might suit them. Sam and Ben both thought it was too much and tried to argue but the gruff older man had told them to take the gift and stop being stubborn.

    They had spent a few months on the road before heading to Colorado to get a look at the property and the house. It was more than they’d expected and while it had needed some work, they were more than capable for it.

    They might not have known exactly what they were, not really psychics, not really witches, not seeming to fit into any category Sam could find of those with powers, but they had a place that was theirs, only theirs, they were free of John and they were finally free to be themselves without ever present fear coloring their days. Sam and Ben both thought it was a good start.

                                                * * *

     Cinda almost didn’t come with them on the Farmer’s Market trip, which they bundled into their bi-weekly supply run. Sam and Ben knew they’d be gone for the whole day and they didn’t want to leave Cinda alone that long, not to mention the obscure pain that came from being separated. It wasn’t as bad as when Sam and Ben were apart but it was close. Cinda had told them that certain kinds of soul bonds caused that kind of pain on being separated. She hadn’t been surprised to know the twins could barely tolerate being apart. She was surprised when shortly after meeting the boys that pain started to apply to her.

    Sam and Ben hadn’t expected it either though they took it better than Cinda did. They were used to not ever being apart and adding Cinda to that had hardly been a chore. Cinda, however, had been used to being solitary more of her life and it took her time to adjust. It wasn’t that she wanted to remain solitary, it just took time to remember to adjust for the new bindings in her life.

    It would have been right on the edge of their tolerance to have to have left Cinda for a whole day as far as they were going, but if she’d needed to stay, they would have dealt with the pain. They were both glad when Cinda decided to come with them, though. Besides the lack of pain, they felt better having her where they could see her.

    They left before sunrise was a blush on the horizon, truck loaded up with coolers of fresh produce and a selection of Cinda’s herbal teas she had started selling along with the fruit and vegetables over the summer. Mostly soothing mixes that could help with sleep or settle stomachs.

    The long drive into town was mostly quiet, music playing on the ancient tape deck with a converter for an iPod knockoff Sam had gotten a couple years ago. Both he and Ben liked the much larger selection of music they had access to, now, and had a fairly eclectic mix, even more so since they had started adding some of Cinda’s favorites to the mix.

    Sam and Ben got the stall set up as sunrise started to color the sky. They let Cinda handle the money. She seemed less withdrawn today and she managed to talk to customers better than the boys did. Sam could manage when he had to but Ben was still more skittish of people, even if they weren’t quite strangers after four years.

    They had sold out of their produce before noon and packed everything up in the truck to head out to do the rest of the errands their biweekly trip into town entailed. Buying the things they wanted, or needed, that they couldn’t grow or make on their own, checking the small privately owned knick-knack shop to see if the last set of wood carvings and wind chimes Sam had made had sold and to collect the money for those. Stopping at the small thrift store to pick up a few things that they needed to replace, mostly shirts that had finally worn through.

    Ben stayed at Cinda’s side the whole time, Sam driving or leading them down what passed as a strip mall in the small town that didn’t quite rate city status. They were done earlier than usual, Cinda with her arm hooked through Ben’s as they finally made their way back to the truck to load up the last of their purchases and head home.

    They were on the road half an hour before Sam said, “We were thinking about going to visit Bobby now that the harvest is in. Let him meet you. Look a few things up. You game for a trip?”

    Cinda glanced at Sam in surprise. She hadn’t expected the suggestion and wasn’t sure what to say.

    “Figured we’d go before the weather started to turn for the worse,” Ben added, his tone coaxing. “Bobby’s been wanting to meet you but we didn’t wanna go over the summer.”

    Lots of reason not to want to go during the summer beyond their gardens. They’d been settling into the relationship, had wanted time where it was just the three of them and no one else. Hadn’t wanted to try to explain or justify anything, just enjoy the addition of Cinda to their lives.

    Cinda leaned into Ben and studied both of the boys. Sam kept his eyes on the road, hands on the wheel casual and not at all like he’d been planning to bring this up all day. Ben had an arm around her waist and nuzzled her hair gently before she turned to gaze at him as well.

    “This doesna sound like something you came up with on a whim,” she finally said. “Why now?”

    Sam shrugged and Ben sighed. “We told you Bobby’s an occult specialist, right?” Sam’s voice was easy, light. “He’s got one of the most extensive occult libraries we’ve ever seen. We figured there might be some things in it that might help us with our… problem.”

    Cinda blinked then huffed a soft laugh. “Aye, a problem it is, I’d say. My da wanting to kill you both and take over the mortal world.” She shook her head and then sighed herself, leaning in to Ben.

    “I dinna have a reason nae to go, laddies. If you think he wouldne mind me. Nae many are comfy with a witch under their roof.”

    “We told you we lived with him for a little more than a year, right?” Ben said, tucking her a little closer. “He’s asked about you a few times over the summer, too. It’ll be okay, Cinda. He wouldn’t have told us to bring you to meet him if he didn’t want you there.”

    “He didn’t mind us,” Sam added. “Even when I accidentally set fire to the kitchen or Ben flooded the bathroom while we were trying to get used to not having to keep our powers under such tight lock and key.”

    Cinda snorted. “You dinna have to convince me. I ken we need some answers we willne be finding out here in the wilderness. If you think it might be of help, I willne argue against it.”

    Sam and Ben both relaxed, having been uncertain Cinda would have been as willing to go see their old friend as they were. Ben kissed her hair as Sam said, “I’ll call him tonight and figure out when the best time to head out will be. We can bring him some of the raspberry preserves as a gift. He always seems to like that.”

    They drove in relative silence for a little bit longer before Cinda finally asked in a small voice, “You dinna think he will hate me, do you?”

    Sam and Ben spent the next ten minutes giving Cinda reasons why Bobby would definitely not hate her, and another ten after that assuring her that it wouldn’t change how they feel about her in any way even if for some reason he did. It was unnerving for the both of them to see Cinda so uncertain and vulnerable. They finished the drive in a more comfortable silence as they finally soothed Cinda’s fears about meeting Bobby Singer. At least the obvious ones.

    Sam and Ben both hoped they could find something that would give them a direction in the impossible task that had been set them. They hadn’t mentioned anything about their mother actually being a goddess or that they had been charged to stop Cinda’s father, who was the dark god who’d come to kill them when they were children. They had only learned of most of it in the last week or two and some things were better told face to face and not over a phone.

    As they finally pulled into home and set to work unloading the truck and stowing away the supplies, Sam found himself hoping rather desperately that they’d find something that would help them among the many books Bobby had. He wasn’t sure where they’d go next if they didn’t. But one thing was definite. He and Ben would see Cinda’s father dead if that’s what it took to ease the haunted look in their fire witch’s eyes.

[chibisquirt]

That Fic I Want

Okay, so @flange5​, @kagekanecavi​, and @trickyarchangel​ have succeeded in pulling me down into the abyss which is The Untamed.  (It is soooo preeeeetty!!!!  And the Stony vibes are *real* let me tell you!!!)  

Anyway, naturally, I want fic-- and because it’s me, and I am the *most* predictable, one’s a crossover, while one’s a first time fic.  I will maybe someday write one or the other of them, but I have way too much to do to start on them now, so summaries it is.  

The first-time fic is standard “yes of course Bubbles wants that fic” fic, and no one should be surprised because I am trash.

The crossover, otoh, is a Doctrine of Labyrinths crossover which turns into Fix-it Fic because fuck you, this is my wish-fulfillment, I’ll save my tiny hyper-competent girlfriend if I want to.  I know I could write it in such a way that you don’t need to know both fandoms to read it, you only need to one or the other...  Hopefully this description is readable like that, too.

Help me, I’m in hell.

So the first place this comes from is, “you know who it would be *hilarious* to throw at these two gay idiots?  Felix and Mildmay!”  Which means non-DoL people need to know who those are.  

Felix is a magic user, and Mildmay, his half-brother, is an ex-assassin, ex-thief.  They both have SO MANY issues, from their personal histories (both children of poverty and abuse, but Felix was trained to use the manners of the powerful magic-using class, while Mildmay lived on the street) to the power differential between them to personal losses they’ve undergone.  Mildmay does not have magic, which makes him “annemer.”  The MDZS guys would say that Felix is a cultivator, and Mildmay is not, but that right there is one of the hurdles to writing this fic.

The way magic is described in the DoL books does not line up with the way Cultivation is described in MDZS.  So you have to find a way to reconcile those two.  DoL describes the uses and even abilities of magic changing as you move to a different culture, so that accounts for some of it; MDZS describes the energies involved in such a way that annemer may well be able to practice cultivation, so that fixes the rest.  For the actual fic, it’s going to be a hell of a lot of fun to explore the similarities and differences in the two systems while still having a cohesive worldbuilding, but for the purposes of this summary, just know that the two are similar, but not the same.

So why do I want to write this nonsense?  

WELL...!

Felix is a powerful magic user, who used to be a child prostitute before being scooped off the streets by an INCREDIBLY abusive necromancer and trained as his protege.  He is incredibly talented, and eventually breaks free of the dark magic he was trained under, and the course of the books is basically one big story of him becoming a better person.  He is also as queer as a football bat, and proud of it. (One scene in the books in which he is voluntarily participating in an orgy is changed into a rape scene when he realizes that one of the participants is a woman.  He is That Gay.  He makes both LWJ and WWX look incredibly straight by comparison.)  He is glib, and clever, but with an addictive personality, and he’s prideful but for good reason, because next to him all the magicians in Corambis really do look a bit like morons.

Sound familiar, at all...?

Mildmay, on the other hand, was raised on the streets by a “thief keeper,” a woman in this case who taught him to use knives, and steal, and then-- when he got his face busted up and couldn’t be unobtrusive anymore-- to be an assassin, instead.  He has a large scar that makes his speech slur, so he rarely speaks or changes expression, but despite his troubled history, he is a Good Person, compassionate and actively *wanting* to be good.  He’s low-class-- and even when he has an opportunity to pretend to be high-class, he never takes it-- but he’s still, in his own way, a Gentleman.  He likes to tell stories, and to hear them; if he had been taught to read and write, he could easily have been a novelist.  Also he is apparently The Greatest Ever at cunnilingus, which really is the cherry on top of my adoration for the boy.

...Okay, so my MDZS folks all know now why I’m slavering to introduce these two assholes to LWJ and WWX, right?  Cool.  Glad we’re on the same page.

DoL ends with our heroes at loose ends in a country with an empire of unknown characterization and size across the sea from them; also, they live on the coast, and have a history of traveling.  So it’s easy to imagine that they ended up in Ygres for... some reason... and that Ygres borders the land MDZS is set in (which as far as I know doesn’t have a name???)  

So this story would start with Felix and Mildmay being called into an audience with the Ygressine empress, who was originally from the Wen clan.*

The Wen empress is pretty thoroughly Ygressine by this point, but still wants to do right by her tiny bits of remaining family.  She sits on her cushions and pets her cat and gives our boys a task.  

She tells our boys about the Sunshot campaign that ended her clan, and about the cruelty afterwards that finished off the last of them.  Then she says that one of her relatives managed to survive the purge after the war by putting her soul into a vessel.  “This cousin of mine, Wen Qing, was very skilled and very clever, and so she has been able to retain her life, but her body perished.  She was a friend of the Yiling Patriarch, and was sure that he could restore her to herself, but alas, he himself died only a few days after she did, long before she was able to reach his side.”  

“So she’s stuck,” Mildmay says.

“Unfortunately, yes.  She made her way to me, and I have kept her safe and comfortable as well as I can since.”  She strokes the cat again.  The cat lashes its tail.

“You want us to restore her,” Felix guesses, madly trying to figure out what he knows about necromancy and praying this chick hasn’t become a fantome or a rachenant in the meantime.

“I doubt you can,” the empress says, “you don’t even know the basics of swordsmanship. No, I want you to find the Yiling Patriarch, Wei Wuxian.”

“The dead one, you mean?”

“We heard the story from three different spies,” the empress says, smiling thinly.  “He has returned to life.”

Now Felix is hoping Wei Wuxian isn’t a fantome or a rachenant.  

“You will escort my cousin, Wen Qing, to his side, and remain with them until they have succeeded in restoring her.  They are both quite clever-- and you’re adequate, too, in spite of your poor education--”  Felix is so indignant, y’all--  “I am sure you will resolve this swiftly.”   

The cat stands up after one last pet, stretches, and starts walking towards the door.  “I have a purse and luggage all packed for you, lacking only any personal items of your own you would like to bring.  We’ll leave at first light,” she says.  She stands on her hind legs with her forepaw on Mildmay’s thigh and bats at his hand.  “Aren’t you going to carry me??  It’s too far to walk!”

Felix and Mildmay:  “What the actual fuck!!!!”

So Cat Wen Qing (Wen Qing-tten?) and the brothers make their way to the MDZS lands, where Lan Wangji is now Excellency and WWX is wandering around cultivating shit and Lan Sizhui is building a cenotaph with Wen Ning, both of the unaware that they are in for a very large surprise.  

And that’s the setup!  There are so many good things I can do with this, so many ways it can go!

They don’t know where WWX is, so they determine to as LWJ, who is about the only one Wen Qing can think of who might know and also tell them without trying to kill her.  They do this without realizing that LWJ is the Excellency now, because when they left Ygres with it’s spy network the news hadn’t happened yet.

LWJ isn’t telling a damn soul where WWX is, least of all foreigners with a talking cat.

He tells them to stay.  (This is actually so that he can get to know them and evaluate them, but god forbid he actually tell anyone that.)  

Felix meets Lan Xichen and is very sympathetic to his recent loss.  He has been there, okay, he knows how this goes!  

At some point they start actually talking about the difference between what Felix and Mildmay know as magic and cultivation, and Mildmay has the “oh god every single one of them is a necromancer!” epiphany/breakdown

Also under the category of “difference between cultivation and magic,” Wen Qing is aware that they have a problem.  Felix is a foreigner, who does not read or write the language, does not sing, does not play an instrument, and barely speaks the language.  So literally no one is going to listen to Felix as a Cultivator if he doesn’t have a sword.

She gets him a sword.  She makes him learn to use it.  It is very, very ugly.

Wen Qing is a better swordsman than Felix is, and she’s still stuck in the body of a cat.

When Mildmay laughs, she makes him learn the sword, too.  

At some point, someone challenges Felix to a duel.  Felix shrugs, then cheats.  

LWJ finds out about Felix’s appallingly bad sword skills, and makes him practice with the juniors.

Mildmay also knows the juniors, because he talks them into teaching him how to gamble.  Then he takes all their money.

His stake in this game is all of the hairpins from his braid, each one of which is worth one (1) story.  He has to tell a story first to prove he can, but once they realize he knows a whole bunch and they haven’t heard any of them, the juniors all hoard their collection of hairpins jealously.  They’ll ante in all of their money, but if they have one of his hairpins, they hold onto it.

Someone buys him a new set of hairpins at some point because his braid is getting really unmanageable.  

Then everybody else buys him increasingly nice hair ornaments until he has the prettiest red queue in Cloud Recesses.

Lan Sizhui at some point gets another family member back, which I think we can all agree he too deserves

Wen Qing finding out who SiZhui is, though

At some point, Cat Wen Qing runs into Wen Ning and just climbs him, racing up his chest and perching on his shoulders to yowl fish-breath into his face, loudly and repeatedly scolding him in cat-noises.  

Felix and WWX in a room together, building towers of bullshit in the air together.  I just... really need that to happen, so much

Wen Qing and Mildmay have a mutual “I’m not good enough” slowburn high-pine-content sort of romance.  They both *deserve* it, damn it, as well as their happy ending!

Wen Qing tries to fix Mildmay’s leg with acupuncture, and it doesn’t work but it does help some

Everybody underestimating Mildmay because he’s not a cultivator and then Mildmay pulls some Mildmay-esque stunt, like stabbing a man fifteen times before he blinks or going over a wall that they thought was unscaleable, and they all just lose their fucking jaws.

*for DoL people who don’t know, the Wen clan are the bad guys of the first half of MDZS, and then they’re defeated, and the cruelty towards defeated Wens drives the action of the second half of MDZS.  So there are good Wens, too.

[domina-alba]

Seditionis Adamas

XXIX “I mean the cake sounds delicious, but is there some kind of cultural importance to Lisa and Archamicarus getting married? I mean... their friendship in the books seemed like it was unshakeable. Why was that extra step necessary?” Domina practically shuffled her feet through the sand in an effort not to outpace either Connie or Steven. Connie frowned and adjusted the bag she was carrying with the quartz sword stuck out of the top.

“Pandering in an attempt to create a marketable book. Regardless of whether it makes sense when compared to the text’s previous anti-establishment themes.” Connie said. Steven shrugged.

“Well... yeah, but they really liked each other. ”

“So?” Domina asked, baffled. Connie waved her free hand dismissively and directed a small smile at Steven.

“Steven loves schmaltz,” She said. Steven puffed his chest.

“Yeah, I do!” He said.

“Whatever,” Domina said, shaking her head. “Anyway, now I’m back to reading the journals.”

“Didn’t you say you weren’t ever going to look at those again?” Connie asked. Domina shrugged awkwardly.

“I say a lot of things.”

“Are you practicing with us today?” Steven asked, starting up the steps to the beach house.

“Maybe, depends if The Renegade actually wants me around.” Domina reached forward to open the door for them, only to have the handle move as The Renegade opened it from the other side.

“You don’t have to call me that.” She said, stepping out on to the porch.

“Afternoon, ma’am!” Connie said.

“Connie! I hope you two are ready. It’s looking like it will be quite a group.” The Renegade said, looking at Domina. “I was wondering if we could... talk.” She asked. Domina looked at The Renegade, looked at Steven and Connie, then back to the pearl.

“I...guess?”

“Excellent! I was hoping I could ask you a favor.”

****

Checking in on the ship had become somewhat of a habit. Not that there was much to do on that front, but until her Diamond reformed, Yellow Pearl really didn’t have anything else to do. She clearly wasn’t welcome in whatever Blue was planning. And she certainly couldn’t attach herself to Domina. The diamond had made it clear she was uncomfortable having Yellow wait on her, and that she would look foolish doing so. Attempting to associate with the permafusion and the off-color amethyst would probably end badly.

So, to the ship she went. Pumpkin often followed her around and the lapis lazuli and peridot seemed to tolerate her presence, though she tried to remain as unobtrusive as possible.  Yellow Pearl returned to the beach house early that day, hoping to find a sunny spot on the hill above the temple and attempt a nap. When she warped into the beach house however, and saw the group assembled for training, Yellow had the sinking suspicion it wasn’t going to be that easy. Before she could step off the warp pad and quickly make an excuse to leave the room, Domina spotted her.

“Yellow!” She said enthusiastically. Yellow Pearl stumbled back. Domina was smiling, which was not completely out of the ordinary, though usually her smile wasn’t so mischievous. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a matching one on Pink’s face. Oh no.

“Er... yes? Whi- Domina?” Yellow asked.

“I was so excited when I heard that you were going to join in on practice today!”  Domina said.

“What?!” Yellow Pearl went rigid. Who in stars’ name had told her that? She looked at White who just smirked back at her, even Blue was holding her hand in front of her mouth, stifling a grin. Suddenly, there was an arm around her shoulder.

“This is going to be a lot of fun, don’t you think?” Domina said, looking down at her.

“I suppose ‘fun’ is one way to put it, White Diamond.” Yellow Pearl attempted to pull away and Domina quickly withdrew her arm, the smile had faded slightly from her eyes. “But do you really think all of this is,” Yellow looked around at the group, “... appropriate?”  Not that Domina had ever cared about anything being appropriate before.

“Why wouldn’t it be? Don’t you want to learn to fight?” Connie, Steven’s friend, said. Yellow rolled her eyes.

“Pearls aren’t supposed to fight.” Yellow said, though the ridiculousness of that statement in a room with three other pearls who all already knew how to fight was not lost on her one bit. But those pearls didn’t have Diamonds, or ones that cared.

“Neither are Diamonds.” Domina said. Yellow glanced at her and saw the smile had returned, there was much less mischief in it this time around. “If you’re worried about how Yellow Diamond will react then you can say it was an order or something.”  And there it was, her last possible way out of this. Shattered.

“I...” Yellow Pearl sighed. “Very well.”

“Excellent!” Domina said, beaming. Blue smiled at her, stepping up onto the pad and patted her shoulder. Yellow grumbled as the group packed tightly on the warp pad and disappeared into the stream.

Twenty minutes later, Yellow Pearl had confirmed that going along with this had been possibly the worst idea of her life. She didn’t even need to breathe but she was still panting from White’s warm up drills.

“Excellent!” White said, walking in front of them. Yellow swore she had stolen that posture from an agate. It certainly fit the situation. “We’ll pair up. Steven, you work with Blue; Pink, you’re with Domina; and Connie, if you could help Yellow get started, I’ll be stopping in on each group.” Yellow glanced at Connie. Truthfully, she hadn’t interacted much with the human, though from how much White gushed about her, she knew that the human was a competent warrior. That especially had to be true if White was letting her carry the sword of her beloved Rose Quartz.

Still, there was something embarrassing about being taught by a juvenile human. Connie pulled her off to the side of the sky arena. The sword that the human handed her was heavier than it ought to be.

“Alright.” Connie said, striking a ready position that Yellow had seen in the odd melee exhibition she had attended with her Diamond. “Everything begins with your stance.”

****

The sky arena was much different than it had been when Blue Pearl had visited it with her diamond all those centuries ago. Of course, it had been affected by the war. Statues were toppled, and there were superficial cracks in the arena floor. But there was a different energy here now, the smug superiority of the elites that looked forward to seeing the rebellion crushed was no longer present. And neither was the quiet fear of how far Earth’s rebellion had progressed.

Now the visitors to the sky arena were eager and energetic. A gentle breeze ruffled the area as Domina and Pink awkwardly and playfully sparred with Pink latest weapon attempt. This one was a flail, though Blue didn’t think it fit very well.

Yellow was half heartedly going through the basic stances that Connie was trying to teach her while White helped. Though if that was actually helping or if it was just further antagonizing, Yellow was still up in the air. It was good to hear those two arguing again.

Sparring against Steven was enjoyable. Though there was something unnerving about being on the other side of Rose Quartz’s shield.

She had really only learned to summon her axe in the last century or so and she still wasn’t used to the motion’s necessary to wield it effectively. Though, what little skill she did have had certainly been enough to dissipate her diamond when she had been otherwise distracted. Blue Pearl didn’t think she’d be so lucky the next time.

“Nice one!” Steven said from inside a pink bubble. Blue Pearl nodded and lifted the head of her axe back to it’s ready position. A gust of wind flipped her bangs into her eyes and once again Blue considered releasing her physical form just to deal with her hair permanently. She had tried shapeshifting her bangs out of her eyes before, but holding it for that long was exhausting.

“Thank you, Steven.” She said moving into a defensive stance and dodging as Steven attempted to ram her with the shield. He certainly had the power of a regular quartz, if not the mass. They traded blows back and forth for a bit until White insisted on a break for both Steven and Connie, and by extension, Domina. Blue approached Yellow, who had set the sword down and backed away from it.

“I don’t think it’s going to explode.” She said.

“This is ridiculous.” Yellow said, folding her arms and eyeing Blue’s weapon nervously. “I shouldn’t be doing this. I’m obviously not cut out for fighting.”

“Well no, but neither was White at first.” Blue let her axe dissipate and Yellow slightly relaxed.

“White’s different.”

“She does have 5000 years of practice on us.” Blue said. Yellow rolled her eyes.

“Yes, well, not all of us are cut out to betray our diamonds or run off with a quartz.”

“And not all of us are cut out to reprogram unprogrammable technology.” Blue pointed out. Yellow’s mouth snapped shut and she blushed. “Who knows what we’re going back into Yellow,” She said in a more gentle manner, laying a hand on Yellow’s shoulder. “If anything, knowing as much as you can will keep you safe.” Yellow Pearl pulled away from her.

“Like how not letting me into your discussions with the ‘New Rebellion’ will keep me safe,” Yellow asked. Blue bit her lip.

“That’s different.”

“I’m sure.” Yellow said with a frown before walking away. Blue Pearl sighed and let her go. Yet another thing she would have to deal with sooner or later.