#anya is the one in the wheel chair

[odiousidiot]

toxic yuri ocs <3

[bakedbakermom]

Stained

Chapter 4: Salient // start at the beginning

tagging @today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr

salient adjective/noun 1. having a quality that demands attention 2. the line of battle closest to the enemy -- A discovery, a decision.

Two more nights of fruitless searching and the flickering candle flame of hope in Scully’s heart was burning lower and lower with each passing hour. She slumped in a chair in the corner of the Magic Box, watching the mood degrade.

Giles had given another pep talk; Spike and Mulder had brought every whipped, sugared, brownie-chunk-filled hyper-caffeinated beverage the local coffee shop could provide; and Buffy had colorfully threatened the bodily integrity of the first person to fall asleep, but she was barely clinging to consciousness as she stared, slack-jawed and glassy-eyed, at the same page she had started nearly half an hour ago.

The others lay or sat scattered in various stages of exhaustion; even Willow’s saccharine optimism had turned decidedly bitter, especially after her attempt to magically scan an entire stack of Old Welsh texts had nearly gone up in literal flame.

No one spoke. No one moved except to turn a page, the whisper of paper like the flap of a crow’s wings—an omen of death.

When Xander sat up and shot his hand into the air, Scully’s heart leapt into her throat.

“Uh, Giles, what do you know about a guy named Antheunis Vroomen?”

Giles glanced up, blinking slowly as the wheels of his mind kicked into gear. “Oh, um, he was a Flemish Watcher in the thirteenth century. A zealot, or rather a heretic actually. He was expelled by the council for his utterly brutal experiments on vampires. He pushed them to the limits of what they could endure—dismemberment, vivisection, exposing different body parts to sunlight, drowning in holy water. And considerably beyond those limits, in many cases. There were even rumors he was dabbling in necromancy. Eventually he was caught by a nest of vampires—”

“And they gave him a stern talking-to, told him to never ever do it again, and sent him away to live happily ever after?” asked Willow hopefully.

“Uh, no, actually. They tortured him for days, disemboweled him, and then burned him—still clinging to life—on a pyre of his own accursed journals.”

“Figures,” Willow mumbled.

“Wrong!” proclaimed Xander triumphantly, holding up a small packet of loose papers, yellow and tattered with age. “They didn’t burn him, they turned him. And those experiments? Dude was trying to find a cure for the whole blood-sucking-undead disease. And according to this lost journal I just found, he not only figured it out, he used it to cure himself!”

Giles crossed the room in an instant—the Scoobies gathering close behind like ducklings following their mother—and took the small bundle from Xander’s hands with a delicacy that bordered on reverence. “My God, Xander,” he whispered, running his thumbs along the flaking edges of the fragile paper. “Where did you find this?”

“Someone was using it to bookmark some rather, uh, exciting woodcut prints in this—”

His words cut off with a gurgle as Giles threw his arms around him.

An awkward moment passed.

“I’m hugging you, aren’t I?”

“Um. Yeah?”

“We will never speak of this again.”

“You got it.”

The group scrambled to clear away the teetering stacks of books on the table so Giles could spread the journal out in front of him. Anya grabbed a lamp from the corner, shedding more light on the ink, so faded it was barely discernible from the paper on which it was written. Giles’ smile started small, and widened along with his eyes as he scanned the pages. “Of course. Of course! We’ve been looking for rituals of cleansing and healing, when we should have been focusing on life transference!”

“Come on, Giles, share with the rest of the class,” Buffy urged, nearly bouncing on her feet.

Scully inched closer, trying to read over Giles’ shoulder. A symbol in the corner of one page caught her eye—faded and smudged but so unmistakable to her that her stomach dropped, even before he began to read the page aloud. A steady ringing started in her ears, tinny at first then surging into a throbbing shriek inside her skull that beat in time to her galloping heart. The din of it nearly drowned out the voices around her as the room erupted into a flurry of hopeful activity.

“... a trio of female saints, likely appropriated Celtic goddesses…”

“... hasn’t taken a human life, well we lucked out on that one, barely…”

“... before the first dark moon after transformation. That’s tomorrow, we’ve got to get ready…”

Scully’s throat tightened; her vision began to darken at the edges and she fought not to swoon. She stepped jerkily back from the table, hands trembling.

The sudden weight of Mulder’s hands on her shoulders nearly made her yelp —she hadn’t even noticed him come up behind her. He turned her around and pulled her into a crushing hug. She felt a wetness in her hair and realized he was crying.

“They’ve found it. They’ve really found it.” He pulled back to look into her eyes, tears streaming down his face as he smiled at her in wonder. He grazed his fingers over her cheeks, her lips, her hair, as if seeing her for the first time. “We’re going to be okay, Scully.”

He didn’t see it. He doesn’t know. She nodded, chin pebbling as tears welled in her eyes. She buried her face against his chest, silent and hollow, and imagined that the whooshing of her own pulse in her ears was instead his heartbeat, the illusion of hearing the ocean in an empty shell. His arms wrapped around her, holding her closer. She wished he could tuck her inside him, fold her into his chest so that her heart could beat for them both.

She had so much practice putting on a brave face for him—from her abduction to her cancer to holding him together while he shattered under the discovery of his mother’s death and his sister’s fate.

Not that he was easy to fool. Sometimes all it would take was a tip of his head, his finger gently guiding her chin so that her eyes met his, and then it was like he could see straight through her, a clear pool with her soul glinting like a pearl at the bottom. It terrified her, sometimes, how clearly he saw her, how he could hold her heart in his hands and not even flinch as the broken parts pricked and cut at him. There was no part of her that had ever made him run, no secret shame he pulled away from in disgust.

She wished she could show him that now, lay her heart bare so that he could see the way it crumbled under the weight of what she had seen, what she knew she would have to do. To hide from him now felt like a betrayal, a knife twisted in both their hearts. But if he knew the plan taking shape in her mind, he would never let her go through with it.

Slowly, achingly, she pulled her armor back on. No cracks, no gaps, no open spaces where her breaking heart might leak through and betray her. He could hate her later, spend the rest of his mortal life cursing her name; if she saved him first, if he could be alive to feel that anger, it would be a small price to pay.

She counted the beats of her heart as he held her, pretending they were his already, and in a way they were; her heart had been his for years.

Finally she pulled back, wiping the tears from her eyes, and smiled up at him, cupping his cheek with one small hand. “Yeah. It’s going to be okay.”

She hoped it didn’t sound too much like goodbye.

“Ahem. Guys? We’re working out a whole miraculous wonderment thing here, care to join?”

Buffy’s voice broke the spell of their little cocoon, and they jumped away from each other like teenagers caught kissing when the porch light came on.

“Sorry,” said Mulder, ducking his head sheepishly, but unable to stop smiling. He kept hold of Scully’s hand, absently running his thumb across her knuckles.

“We have most of this stuff,” Willow was saying. “Acrimony, palo santo, vervain, mostly herbs of cleansing and banishing evil. But there’s a couple other things. Blood of the slayer is obvious. Buffy?”

“Always willing to open a vein for a friend in need. But dust of the sire, a heart wreathed in flame? They might be a little harder to come by.”

Giles took his glasses off, pressing the end of the earpiece against his lips as he thought. “Dust of the sire must refer to the ashes of the vampire that turned him.” Scully remembered yellow eyes, a torn and bloody gown, the flash of long sharp teeth. She shoved the memory away. “Buffy, do you think you can find the section of sewer caves where we found them? There may still be remains of her, well, remains.”

“I’ll find it,” Spike said, already grabbing his coat to leave. “Slayer should stay here and get ready. We don’t have much time.” The door closed behind him before the last word had died on the air.

“The heart in this illustration looks human.” Willow tapped the page, the burning heart at the corner. No one saw Scully’s shudder. “And I know these flames. See those little curls? That’s an alchemical symbol you see in potions for the transfer of life force.”

“I think there’s a recipe in the Ostanes text for the Flame of Life,” Tara said. “There’s a copy at our place. It’s nasty stuff, but nothing we can’t brew up if you let us dip into some of the Magic Box supplies. It burns the life from one thing and casts it into another.”

Willow was nodding along. “I can break into the morgue for the heart; it’s got to be fresh for something like this.”

“Good, good.” Giles ran his finger down the page, as if it were a grocery list he wanted to double-check. “Xander, Anya, there is a chest of ritual athames in the basement, under the machida skins. Find the one carved from solid amethyst. We’ll need holy water, too, the Catholic stuff. Head to Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow; Father Forthill is still on sabbatical, but Sister Mary Clarence owes me a favor.”

“I’ll get that,” Scully volunteered; they turned to her like a flock of synchronized owls, blinking in surprise. She shrugged at Mulder’s puzzled look and added, “Nuns like me. Besides, it’s not exactly an errand you can run.”

His eyes fell on the cross at her throat and he winced away. “Oh. Right.”

She squeezed his hand. “You just sit tight and learn your part. I’ll be right back. We’re going to bring you back to life.”

—

The church Giles had mentioned was only three blocks away, but Scully saw half a dozen more lining the intersections she passed, their bright crosses gleaming through the fog. Presbyterian, Episcopalian, Lutheran. She supposed living in a town like Sunnydale must inspire people to pray, to seek protection in a higher power in the hopes of fending off the monsters in the dark. She touched the tiny cross dangling from her own neck. It was an impulse she understood.

She genuflected upon entering the sanctuary, tapping her forehead, heart, and either shoulder in the sign of the cross, and then touched her fingers to her lips. The familiar scent of incense filled the air, and the comfort of the church settled around her like a cloak. She had taken refuge in her faith so often in her life, but never as literally as this, never knowing for certain how much safety lay inside walls like these. Stained glass depictions of the saints filled each window, dim now with night pressing down outside, but in the morning they would glimmer like jewels and fill the entire space with colored light.

Scully paused in the north transept to kneel before a rack of flickering votives, each housed in a small cup of red glass that made the whole alcove glow. She supposed it was meant to be warm and soothing, but as she lit her taper and held the tiny flame to the prayer candle’s wick, the lurid light only looked like bloodstains on her hands.

She heard footsteps and glanced up to see the Slayer walking up the center aisle; she had seen the look on Buffy’s face when she and Mulder had broken apart, the way her eyes had narrowed and her jaw tensed as if biting back her words. Scully had been expecting her to follow; what surprised her, however, was how uncomfortable the young woman looked.

“You don’t look like you spend a lot of time in Church.”

“Most of the crosses I see are of the headstone and warding-off-the-evil-undead varieties,” she answered, warily eyeing the large crucifix behind the main altar. This church had gone with one of the more brutal depictions of Jesus’ death: a jagged crown of long black thorns piercing his brow in a dozen places, the deep wound in his side dripping blood halfway down his thighs, his upturned face a mask of weeping, ecstatic agony. “Honestly all of this is a little death-worshippy for my taste. Gives me both the heebies and the jeebies.”

“The Catholics do love their martyrs. The more gruesome, the better. Ignatius torn apart by lions. Joan of Arc in flames. You should see how they paint St. Sebastian.”

Buffy sighed. “Okay, I’m not good at chit-chat, so I’m just going to come right out and say it. You saw something in those pages. You backed away from them like they were going to bite you. And then when you stepped away from the guy who actually did seriously bite you, you had this look on your face. I know that look. I’ve seen it. In the mirror, usually when I’m getting ready to do something stupid. So, tell me, what stupid thing are you planning to do so I can decide if I need to break your legs or not.”

Scully’s smile was small and quietly dangerous. “You can try.”

For the first time, Buffy looked at her, really looked at her, head cocked to one side and arms folded. She seemed relaxed, but Scully recognized the stance from her own combat training; the girl could easily move into one of a thousand strikes designed to disable, maim, or—with her Slayer strength powering that small body—kill. Scully knew she was being studied, and did not flinch.

She had been through too much this week, these last seven years, this entire lifetime, to balk at a mere stare—whether it was backed by superpowers or not.

Finally Buffy seemed to reach a conclusion, and flopped down on the padded kneeler beside her. She wrapped her arms around her folded legs. “All right, lady. Spill.”

Scully nodded her chin toward the painting hanging above the flickering candles. “Do you recognize this painting?” At Buffy’s raised eyebrows, she smiled. “Right, heebies and jeebies. You know, I used to love this image, then I hated it, and now I think I finally understand it.”

She studied the upturned face of the woman in the painting, whose eyes were wide and full of awe as she stared up at the figure of Christ, wreathed in white light. “The woman is St. Margaret Mary, and this is the revelation of the divine heart. Jesus appeared to Margaret Mary, his heart so aflame with love that he could no longer contain it, even in his holy body.”

Jesus’ heart shone from inside his chest, crowned in gold and bright with flames, a beam of light shining from it to alight upon Mary Margaret’s hands where they rested in prayer atop her own heart. More light shone from the wounds at his hands and feet, bathing the kneeling woman in light. “So Margaret Mary begged him to take her heart—and he did, pulling it from her body and placing it alongside his own, so that the flame of his divine love spread from his heart to hers; then he tucked it back into her chest and sealed the wound with a touch of his hand, so that she could go forth and carry that love into the world.”

Tears trickled down her face as she finished, glinting red and gold in the light. She didn’t wipe them away.

Buffy was silent for a long time. The candles continued to flicker and dance, casting shadows over the painting so that the woman’s face seemed to shift from joy to despair and back again.

“The ritual,” she finally said. “A heart wreathed in flame, passing the fire from one to the other. Flames of…?”

“I knew the moment I saw the drawings on the page. Once, it feels like a lifetime ago, a deeply disturbed man told me the story of the Sacred Heart, and then he tried to steal mine. But it didn’t belong to him. It’s belonged to someone else for a long time.”

Buffy rose, rage flashing over her features. “Are you insane? Do you have some kind of death wish? You’ll never survive it.”

“It’s not the first time I’ve been in a position to die for him. At least this time I get a choice.”

“Well it’s the wrong choice!”

Scully stood, her cheeks still damp with tears; she and Buffy were nearly the same height, but something in the steel of her spine and the set of her jaw gave Buffy pause. “I know the stories of the Slayer. Mulder’s told me a dozen times, even though I didn’t believe it until I met you; you exist to protect the human world, to die for it if you have to. Is this so different?”

“I fight to save the world,” Buffy countered. “I know I’ve got an expiration date coming, and some lucky beastie is going to get the best of me someday, but I intend to leave a nice long trail of mangled monster corpses in my wake before then. I’m not going to just give up!”

Scully nodded, turning back to the painting. She plucked another taper from the little bowl and lit another candle, murmuring a small prayer under her breath. When she spoke again, her choked voice was barely more than a whisper. “I had a child once. She wasn’t ‘mine,’ not exactly—she was taken from my body, without my knowledge or consent.”

Shock flickered across Buffy’s face as her hand moved to her own shoulder, touching a scar just visible beside the wide collar of her shirt. Her body was a maze of scars, some visible only in the right light, and some not at all; this one she touched with something approaching reverence. “Blood is blood,” she said softly.

Scully nodded. “I found her years later, and only in time to watch her die. I held her as it happened and I begged God to spare her, even if it meant my life. I’d never felt that depth of love before, that pull, that feeling that my life wasn’t just mine anymore. But as my daughter slipped away, I understood. I’ve been close to death too many times, and I’d fought it every step of the way. But sometimes there is no fight, no way to save the day and come out the other side a hero; there is only the question of who is worth dying for.”

A deep silence passed between them. In the alcove, a tiny flame died with a hiss of wax, sending a curling tendril of pale smoke to the ceiling. The martyred saints looked down, waiting.

Scully watched as a weight settled on Buffy’s small shoulders, as she adjusted herself to carry it; it wasn’t the first unfair burden the young woman had been asked to bear, and Scully knew with a pang of sympathetic sorrow that it would not be the last. “Death is your gift,” Buffy finally whispered, almost too soft to hear. Then, louder, “You’re going to need my help.”

[briamichellewrites]

53

When Brad got to the hospital, Jon was there to meet him. How was she doing? They didn’t know because they had yet to talk to the doctor. She was in the emergency room connected to machines. Brad had no idea what happened. She was in a good mood when she left his place. It likely wasn’t his fault. She probably had some type of medical issue. The doctors knew more than they did. He nodded nervously before taking a deep breath to calm his anxiety.

Have you met her friends yet? He might have met one or two of them, but he couldn’t remember. Jon would introduce him, then. When they got over to the group, they looked up at them. One by one, he was introduced to Brad, Mike, Chester, Joe, Rob, and Phoenix. It was nice meeting them. He apologized for the circumstances. Phoenix got up and pulled a chair over. Thanks.

They then sat down. Mike updated him with what they knew so far. How did he find her? He received a strange phone call from Anya. Her cat? Yes, the only thing he could hear was her meowing. It was like a sad meow. He hung up and went over to her house. The door was unlocked, so he let himself in. Buddy and Missy were at the door whining. He asked them where Bria was. They had him follow them upstairs to her bathroom.

That’s where he found her next to the toilet. One of the dogs swiped at her with their paw.

“It’s amazing what animals can do to get help”, Bradford said.

“Cats can sense things that humans can’t. Same thing with dogs. They can run and get help from their owners. I’ve heard of a cat saving their owner from a house fire by waking them up. Did you find her other cat”, Jon asked.

“Yes, he came in after. I think he got scared of the ambulance and hid. I changed their water and gave them new food.”

Phoenix would call his wife about going over and taking the dogs out for exercise. Thank you. He got up to do that.

Bria was in a medically induced coma. The emergency room physician explained what that meant and why it was necessary. The coma shut off her brain to give it time to recover. Did they find out why she fainted? Yes, they determined the cause was low blood pressure. It was likely she didn’t know anything was wrong until she passed out. What was she like before she fainted?

Brad was the last person to see her. He reported that she was in a good mood. They had breakfast together before she left. Could he ask what they had? Just in case it was something they found useful. Yeah, he had to remember. They had scrambled eggs and toast with jam and orange juice. Did she have any previous medical problems? She was born with crack cocaine in her system and she recently had a double mastectomy with implants.

She found out she was at risk for breast cancer. What about mental health wise? She had ADHD, Borderline Personality Disorder, depression, anxiety and PTSD. Was she taking medication for those? Yes, she saw a therapist once a week. She also had generational trauma from her birth parents. Her mother had Borderline Personality Disorder, schizophrenia, and a drug addiction.

Was she using drugs or alcohol? She was drinking but socially. They were keeping an eye on her drinking because she was at risk of alcoholism. But for now, they didn’t see it as a problem. Low blood pressure. They were all thankful she became unconscious at home and wasn’t behind the wheel. She could have hurt someone else. It wouldn’t have been her fault but she would have felt horrible when she found out. They hoped she would be able to wake up.

Mike got up and excused himself to call Renè. He left a voicemail earlier asking about the situation since he and Céline heard on the news she was in the hospital. At the time, he didn’t have any information to give him. Now he did. Chester also got up, which everyone noticed.

“Chester, where are you going”, Bradford asked him.

“Coffee.”

“That means Mike is putting me in charge of you. Don’t put too much caffeine in it.”

“I got him”, Rob said.

He got up and walked over to him. As much as he loved Bria, he hated hospitals. Something was unsettling about it and he felt anxious. He needed to walk away, even for a brief moment. Going to get coffee was a great idea. Jon asked if they should be worried. Bradford hoped not. They didn’t want him bouncing around the ER. It wouldn’t be appropriate. He had a lot of natural energy, like Bria. It increased when he had caffeine.

What was he in charge of? He was in charge of making sure he didn’t overdo it with caffeine. Mike was usually the one who kept an eye on him. Since he was stressed out and worried about Bria, the job fell to him. He didn’t mind doing it because it was one less thing for him to worry about. Jon and Brad saw how well the band worked together.

They were brothers with six different personalities and backgrounds who looked out for each other. They could teach Bon Jovi some things about getting along. Even though they had been together for twenty-something years, it didn’t always mean they liked each other. They butted heads. He and Richie fought on and off. Mike seemed to be the one who kept everyone together. They all agreed that was true. He could look at problems from all angles.

He considered all solutions before making decisions. His mind was always working and it took him a while to get frustrated. Could they teach Bon Jovi about getting along? They would try. They laughed. What about Bria? She kept them accountable. Their favorite thing was to say something to see what her reaction would be. She was also the girl who cheered them on and encouraged them.

They loved her as part of their family. How did they meet her? It was 1998. She was introduced to them by the A&R guy, Jeff Blue as a new artist on their record label. They went through a lot with him. What happened? He wanted to control everything about the music they made. Instead of getting constructive feedback from him, he just said he didn’t like what they were doing. It was incredibly frustrating. He wanted her to become a pop star. She didn’t want to be a pop star.

He and Mike formed their label, Machine Shop Records so they could have more control over their music without having him micro-manage everything they did. Jon remembered going in and talking to him. Yeah, they were so grateful for that. What kind of music did they play? It was considered nu-metal. It was a mix of hard rock and rap. Chester was the rock star and Mike was the rapper.

When Mike got back, he asked where Chester and Rob went. Coffee. He sighed before putting Bradford in charge of him. Yep, he got it. He sat down again. Did he talk to Renè? No, he talked to Céline because he was busy doing something else. It wasn’t his business. He gave her all of the information they had. Renè was going to write up a statement and release it to the media. He would ask for privacy, along with prayers for Bria. Okay.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon

[heybeybey]

Kismet

Braindumped this yesterday so now you have this fic.

Thanks to @sleeperswakewriting and @anya-grace. They didn't really push me to write this. It's more like 2 people liked the idea and I'm weak for Rivetra so here you go.

Still dedicating this to the two of you for supporting my need for lolo (grandpa) levi + roller skating petra!! 🖤🧡

Pairing: Rivetra | Levi x Petra

Genre: Fluffy romance!!! Tooth-rotting fluff so sweet that I'm gonna write heartbreaking angst next to balance things out.

Summary: The ginger-haired waitress skates over to him, her pink skirt a flurry behind her. She stops beside his table and gives him a disarming smile. "Welcome to Kismet Diner! What will you be having today, sir?"

Okay, so this diner wasn't a shitty choice after all.

Or: 50s Diner Waitress! Petra x Retired Soldier! Levi Modern AU

[Also, if you wanna listen to the songs Levi was forced to listen to in this fic, here's the playlist.]

--

Sweeter than candy on a stick Huckleberry, cherry or lime If you had a choice he'd be your pick But lollipop is mine

If he's going to listen to another most-likely-already-dead-woman belt out a cheery love song, Levi's sure he's going to finally pop a vein. He grumbles as the next track plays, grateful that this one is more on the mellow side so he can actually focus on his work.

Old school music on loop aside, Kismet Diner is actually pretty decent. They serve good food for an establishment that he thinks is trying way too hard to be a blast-from-the-past monstrosity.

Levi found the place by accident when he was out trying to find a place to work. He didn't feel like spending another evening inside his apartment and thought a change in scenery might help him decompress his mind.

Fucking codes just won't write itself, he thinks.

After wheeling himself around his new neighbourhood for a while, he found that this diner was the only thing open. Having no other choice, he found a spot for himself and settled in with his laptop.

He didn't expect that he'll be returning every night though.

(And that he'd be willing to listen to these cheesy retro love songs every time.)

From behind his laptop, he sneaks another glance at the bubbly server.

He distinctly remembers his first night here. A ginger-haired waitress skated over to him, her pink skirt a flurry behind her, as he settles in his chosen seat. She stopped beside his table and gave him a disarming smile. "Welcome to Kismet Diner! What will you be having today, sir?"

Okay, so this diner wasn't a shitty choice after all, he recalls thinking at that time.

It took him a moment or two to finally answer her and she diligently noted down his order. She flashed him one last smile after she promised that she'll bring his food over in five minutes.

He spent those five minutes feeling like a real creep because his eyes never left her.

It's been a few days since then and he watches her now as she picks up the leftovers from the table in front of his. She wishes a customer goodbye, and skates back to the counter.

"Petra! Think you can extend your shift a little bit? Rico called in sick," a voice from the counter calls out.

"Sure! Her shift's until 1 am right?" The ginger, Petra, replies.

And that's how Levi found himself staying at Kismet Diner until 1 am.

- - -

I laughed at love 'cause I thought it was funny You came along and you moved me honey I've changed my mind, this love is fine

"I think the customers like this song but I can't seem to place what the title is..." The rush hour has since lulled when Petra wonders out loud to the other waitress who's still in the kitchen.

He remembers this one. The older guys back in the military would belt it out when they're drunk as fuck on days when they're allowed to have a break. Frankly, it gave him a headache every time and he doesn't know how Erwin and all the other soldiers were able to take Pyxis seriously after his one-man concert.

He speaks up without thinking.

"Great Balls of Fire by Jerry Lee Lewis."

"Yes, that's the title!" Her eyes light up and she fully spins to face him. "You're into oldies music?"

Levi blinks, and for the first time in his life, he found his throat dry because she's finally talking to him fuck fuck fuck what will he say what was the question again.

"Uh... yeah, I guess?"

Wait, what?

She skates over to his table, a wide smile on her face. "That's so cool! I don't meet a lot of people my age who's still into the oldies. Even my dad teases me about it."

"Oh..."

"What's your name? I'm Petra, by the way. But I think you already know that," she grins sheepishly, pointing to her name plate. "I know I shouldn't really be talking to you but you're here every night so I thought it might be great to get to know our regular customers more."

He blinks up to her, trying to get a hold of himself before he fucks this up even more.

"Levi."

"Nice to meet you, Levi." She looks at her wristwatch and her surroundings, probably checking if there are more tables to cater to, before turning back to him. "My shift's over but I think you stay up late here, right? Mind if I sit with you? I haven't eaten dinner yet and I'd appreciate the company."

He gives her a shrug as his approval and she beams another smile before disappearing back to the kitchen. Petra comes back after a few minutes, still in her pink waitress uniform but without the cap and she also changed her skates to normal cream flats. She brought along a small bag and she unpacks it after sitting down at the chair in front of him.

What the hell is happening?

"Don't get me wrong. I love the food here but it's a bit overpriced if you ask me," she says as brings out her lunchbox. "Don't tell Nanaba that though."

"Wouldn't your boss fire you for randomly inviting yourself at a customer's table?"

"Nanaba? We go way back high school. She's the one who's pushing me to take breaks actually."

They sit in silence for awhile after that. Levi watches as she munches on her sandwich while he takes another sip of his coffee. Not knowing what to say, he just turns back to his laptop to type away. Petra, on the other hand, seems like a great conversationalist.

"So... what's your favorite?" She speaks up after having few bites into her dinner.

"Favorite?"

"Song? There's a lot of classics that deserve attention but I'm curious which one caught your attention."

Fuck.

His mind comes up blank until the image of his blonde best friend came to mind. Erwin knows about this old school shit. Not surprising because he's more ancient than Levi is.

What was that song Eyebrows belted out again when they went on that dreaded karaoke night? He recalls Erwin singing something after his cheating long-distance girlfriend finally broke up with him when they were allowed to call their loved ones.

"Mr. Lonely by Bobby Vinton stuck with me." He replies, again without thinking. She laughs out loud the moment the words were out his mouth and Levi frowns in indignation. "Oi, if you're going to laugh at my shitty taste in music then you can get your ass off my table."

"No, no." Petra wipes away a tear from her laughing. "I think it fits your grumpy 'get-off-my-lawn' grandpa vibe. What, someone broke your heart recently?"

"Grumpy grandpa?" Pretty smile and bubbly personality aside, he's starting to think this woman's a bit rude.

- - -

He's still back the next day though.

"Good evening, sir! Will you be having the usual?" Petra greets. He gives her a slight nod before wheeling himself to his spot. He watches as she flurries around during the dinner rush hour, skating from one table to another. She never loses her smile, even when one lady was being a bitch after Petra delivers the wrong milkshake.

Unlike the previous nights where he's content with just sneaking glances at the gorgeous waitress, Levi spends the next few hours gathering the courage to make a move.

Petra stayed in his table until closing time last night and he listened as she babbled on about all their menu offerings and how she likes creating the milkshakes and the coffee the best.

He'd like to think that they're somehow acquainted enough for him to maybe ask her out.

A look a-there, here she comes There comes that girl again Wanted to date her since I don't know when But she don't notice me when I pass

The booming music is only making him nervous, the cheesy lyrics is pissing him off and fuck, he really wants to punch the music player off right now.

Once Petra finally skates over to him though, setting down his usual black coffee and clubhouse sandwich, he takes his chance.

"Are you free tomorrow night?"

"Sir?" She blinks at him and he almost melts as he stares at her huge amber eyes.

"Uhm... you mentioned that you have Fridays off," he starts. "There's this fair that will be opening tomorrow night and I thought you might be into that. First day's the best time to go too while the crowd hasn't shit on the place yet."

The more he hears his words, the more he wants to kick himself with his still working leg.

He notices that a faint blush started to color her cheeks, eyes shifting down before she gives him a shy smile.

"I'd love to go with you, Levi."

- - -

"Wow, you..."

"Were able to hit them all?" He gears up to shoot the last can. "I was in the military."

"No wonder you have that cool scar!"

His eyes darkens a little bit at that, mind taking him back to the career-ending moment that led to where he is now.

Petra seems to notice his reaction. "I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"It's fine. It's been almost a year." He cuts her off. This day's supposed to be fun and he's not allowing his PTSD to take over his chances of charming a girl (which was already low at his current state, he thinks).

"That's amazing, son!" The guy manning the booth approaches him. "Feel free to pick any prize for the lady."

Petra looks down to him for approval, asking if she can pick a prize or if he'd rather pick one since it was him who won after all. He gives her a small smile, gesturing towards the display of prizes.

He watches as Petra buzzes around in excitement, deciding on whether she should get the elephant plushie or this creepy clown plushie that caught her attention for some godforsaken reason. (He pushes her to get the elephant one instead.)

I've got sunshine on a cloudy day When it's cold outside I've got the month of May I guess you'd say What can make me feel this way

"Vanilla is still the best."

"You're boring," she retorts. "How can you only try mint chocolate just once in your life? You get refreshing and sweet dark chocolate at the same time. It's the best combination out there!"

"Yeah, if you like eating your toothpaste," he retorts back.

"Come on, just give it a chance?"

They're settled on a bench right now, his wheelchair parked next to the seat. They take this opportunity to have a conversation while they finish their ice cream.

He learns that she's currently finishing up a nursing degree and that she's working part-time at Kismet Diner to fund her studies. She has an obsession with mint chocolate ice cream, and that she truly loves skating outside of work because she also does roller derby on the weekends (with her boss Nanaba and another girl named Nifa). She's an only child and her dad currently lives in the countryside.

Levi tells her a little bit about himself too and he's glad that she respects his reserved nature. He doesn't tell her about his time in the military, only that he used to be a captain for a few years before he left. He also shared that he used to pursue a degree in Computer Science before dropping out halfway through to join the military. Since he left, his unfinished degree has been useful since he was able to find consistent freelance opportunities as a web developer.

That seems like the perfect job for someone who's anti-social as you, she notes and he gives her an unamused look.

He also finds out that he's actually ten years older than her, and he feels even more like an old man at that moment.

"Hey, I like your grumpy grandpa vibe," she teases him.

"You'd get along with Gabi and Falco."

"Who? Are they your kids?" Her eyes lights up when she takes note of his fond tone before it starts to narrow in suspicion. "You're not married are you?"

"What? Hell no. My hair would probably be gray now if they were." He says. "They're my neighbours. Both... what? 13 I think? They wouldn't stop pestering me since I moved into the complex a few months ago. Those two brats also won't stop calling me grandpa. Do I really look that old?"

"I'd say it's because of the wheelchair but it's actually your scowl that completes the look," she replies with a cheeky smile.

When they're done with their ice cream, Petra rolls him around while he holds on to her big-ass elephant plushie for her. He'd know she's excited about a booth in particular when he feels his wheelchair move faster towards their destination.

Throughout the night, she won them a bag of lollipops once and Petra insists he takes them home to Gabi and Falco. He, on the other hand, was surprised that his military background would be useful for something as useless as carnival games. His fast reflexes and sharp eye bagged them a few more wins, with the last game earning them a free popcorn.

- - -

Before they capped off the night, Petra (the retro lover that she is) led him to a nearby jazz club that she visited once. She insisted that it's on the way home so why not drop by? The atmosphere is more chill than Levi expected so at least he didn't have to listen to another upbeat bubblegum retro track.

"Come dance with me?" She says after a moment of watching the couples on the small dance floor.

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm on a wheelchair for a reason."

"We can work around it." Ever the optimist, she leans down to try and help him stand up. "Lean yourself on me. I'll support you throughout."

Levi obliges, placing all of his weight on his working left leg while trusting the rest to Petra. He has his arms around and he tries to start moving with her.

He almost slips as he takes another step and in frustration, he attempts to sit down instead. "It's no use Petra-"

Petra's hold on him tightened. "Just trust me a little more Levi."

He sighs, attempting to stand again. They do find the right balance and rhythm on the second try and Levi breathes out in relief.

Soon, they're swaying to the music and Levi couldn't remember the last time he was upright like this, except for when he has to drag himself around with his crutch in the mornings.

Put your lips next to mine, dear Won't you kiss me once, baby? Just a kiss goodnight, maybe You and I will fall in love

"Petra?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm not really into oldies music."

"I know. I realized that when you only kept mentioning the famous hits."

"Huh."

"I actually cringed when you said you liked Mr. Lonely."

"Shut up." She giggles at that and they finally sway in companionable silence, taking in the slow beat.

When the music stops, Petra reaches up to him, placing a kiss on his cheek. He feels his face warm up, throat bobbing as he stares dumbly at her.

"Thanks for tonight, Levi." - - -

Levi goes back to Kismet Diner the next day, and the day after that. He's there every night and she's always the one who takes and serves his order.

He'd accompany her as she eats her late-night dinner on his table and he sometimes brings her some cookies he baked that morning. Nanaba would throw Petra a smirk here and there whenever she serves his table or when Petra clocks off to have dinner with him.

"Your captain's here," he once heard the taller woman whisper to Petra once the door closes to signal his entrance.

Levi would order the same black coffee and clubhouse combination that Petra eventually offered him to try other things on the menu. "Come on, it's on the house! Why can't you just try other options?"

Love me tender, love me sweet Never let me go You have made my life complete And I love you so

One morning three months into getting to know each other, Levi wakes up feeling contentment wash over him when he smells that she's brewing his usual order from his own apartment kitchen.

Petra enters his room beaming a few minutes later, black coffee and a plate of pancakes in each hand. He distinctly notes that she's playing her retro love songs on loud speaker again and he's long since given up on stopping her.

She leans down to place his breakfast on the side table and she starts peppering kisses from his scarred cheek up to the affected blind eye.

"Good morning Levi!" He wholeheartedly accepts both the breakfast and the kisses, hooking his arm around her waist and cuddling closer to her as he sits up in bed.

He takes her in and finds that he slightly misses the pink uniform and roller skates she dons while she serves him at the diner... but he won't deny that he definitely prefers seeing her draped in nothing but his slightly oversized white shirt instead. "Morning."

🧡🧡🧡🧡 ehehe send fic requests here if you'd like

[johannstutt413]

(requested by anonymous)

Enciodes SilverAsh was a few things, but compassionate was not one of them. After spending the time he had forging himself into the man his family needed him to be, whether they realized it or not, to save not only the SilverAsh name, but Kjerag as a whole. He would bring the light of civilization to his homeland, issuing in an age of industry and progress like nothing they had ever seen! Before he could do that, though, he had to make sure his sister would be taken care of, and getting her into Rhodes Island had been exactly what the doctor’d ordered. Ensia was being treated while still being able to live the adventurous life she wanted, Anya had found her way here and was surprisingly popular, and Encio...well, Encio had his own reasons for sticking to RI.

“Good morning, Encio.” The Doctor, at his desk as usual, slid off his hood and mask as he greeted him. “Sleep well last night?”

“Well enough.” Ignoring the obvious, the captain of Kjerag industry had gotten a good night’s sleep.

His former rival chuckled. “Don’t worry, I was able to get the reports done that I needed to, so no overtime for a while.”

“Fantastic.” SilverAsh shed his coat and tossed it onto the couch before sitting at the second desk in the room. “I’ll let Courier and Matterhorn know their evening’s been freed up.”

“Actually, I was hoping we could get the whole family together tonight, if that’s alright with you? I already talked to your sisters, and they said they’re free as long as their dates are.”

Encio, waiting on his computer to boot up, sighed. “You’re planning something.”

“Yeah - a triple dinner date.” The Doctor rolled back from his desk and cocked his head at his boyfriend. “I know you and Anya aren’t on the best terms, but you’re both adults; one evening’s not too much for you, is it?”

“No, but our arguing might sour it for everyone else. If that’s a risk you’re willing to take, so be it.” The Feline still hadn’t gotten to the login screen, as if the technology wanted the discussion resolved before cooperating.

He nodded. “Great! Matt made the reservations already.”

“Of course he did.” SilverAsh had expected that much. “Chivalle’s?”

“Chivalle’s. I’ve never seen you so distraught at the thought of a steak dinner.” His computer dinged with an email alert, but that could wait for a minute.

Kjerag’s would-be king thumped his monitor on its ‘forehead.’ “I’m ordering a new desktop once this one deigns to load.”

“Encio, if you really don’t want to talk to her, it’s fine, I just need to know.” He slid over in his wheeled office chair. “I would’ve asked you first, but, you know, overtime.”

“I understand, love, and I don’t mind that. What I’m wondering about is the actual reason for this dinner.”

The Doctor glanced back at his desk drawer. “Well, that’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“So a secret you’re keeping until tonight.” He finally was able to type in his password. “Very well.”

“That was the intent, but I’d rather you act surprised later than be annoyed with me for the whole day, so...” He rolled back and opened the drawer.

Encio, now waiting for another loading sequence to finish, turned to watch his paramour search. “Looking for some- Oh?”

“There it is.” The Doctor grabbed a small box and stood up from his desk. “This’ll be a rehearsal for tonight.”

“Rehearsal?” SilverAsh’s expression masked his surprise for the most part, except for the slight widening of his pupils.

His boyfriend walked over and tugged on his arm to ask him to stand up. “Yes, a rehearsal. We both know you love your dramatics, after all.”

“When have I-” As he complied, he caught a glimpse of the box, and he nearly sat back down again. “You’re proposing?”

“See, this is exactly not the reaction we want at the restaurant.” The Doctor chuckled as he kneeled.

The Feline’s mind shifted into business tycoon mode in self-defense, but his emotion in the moment overwhelmed even that. “Doctor, I’m not sure I can accept this.”

“I know.” That wasn’t gonna stop him from trying. “But I’ve been planning this for weeks now, and I’m not asking for anything official right away.”

“And yet you want me to publicly agree to marry you...”

He nodded. “Doesn’t it bother you to sneak around like we have been? A man as powerful and respected as you, an active progressive force in his homeland, having a tryst with a public relations liaison because he’s worried about appearances?”

“You’re not wrong,” it certainly did, “but why a proposal instead of a public announcement that we’re dating? I don’t plan on finding someone else in the meantime, but it’s only been three months.”

“Two words: Gravel’s pestering.” A brief shiver.

Encio snorted. “Now I understand.”

“And also because Matt and Courier are proposing tonight, too.” Now that was enough for the Feline to blatantly display his surprise. “That’s the face we want for tonight.”

“Both of them? Well, then you have me right cornered, don’t you, I can’t refuse in that ca- wait. Triple date? You mean with...I had no idea.”

The Doctor stood up. “Yes, they’ve known since the beginning, and yes, they’ve also been sneaking around you for some time now. Longer than we have, for sure.”

“I’ve...I’ve underestimated you, all three of you.” SilverAsh took a moment before he lifted the Doctor off the ground for a long kiss. “And I won’t be doing that again. Now that the air’s cleared up, you want to take it from the top?”

“That’d be great, but you’d have to put me down for that.” His eyes clearly said he didn’t want that just yet.

That made two of them.

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Wednesday 15th December

SPIKE: You might want to let up. They say when you've drawn blood, you've exfoliated. Angelus: What do you know about it? I'm the one who was friggin' violated. You didn't have this thing in you. DRUSILLA: What was it? A demon? Angelus: Love! DRUSILLA: Poor Angel. Angelus: Let's get outta here. I need a real vile kill before sunup to wipe this crap out of my system. DRUSILLA: Of course. We'll find you a nice toddler. (to Spike) Want to come, pet? Angelus: No can do, Dru. I'm sure he'd be hell on wheels, but we don't have much time. (to Spike) Gotta travel light. (puts his hands on Spike's shoulders) Sorry. Try to have fun without me. (they exit) SPIKE: Oh, I will. (gets out of the wheel chair) Sooner than you think.

~~I Only Have Eyes for You ~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

On Patrol (Buffy, PG) by badly_knitted

The Wooden Box (Giles/Buffy, Mature) by Dynapink

Joy To The World (Tara/Willow, Teen and Up) by Laragh

Propinquity (Giles/Buffy, Teen and up) by froxyn

[Chaptered Fiction]

overcome in this war of hearts 1/3 (Spike/Buffy, Mature) by Krewlak

Soul Swap, Chapter 24 (Buffy/Spike, R) by ZombieRed

Use It or Lose It, Chapter 10 (Spike/Buffy, NC-17) by Dynamite

Chosen One, Chapter 13 (Buffy/Spike, R) by all_choseny

Stolen Moments, Chapter 3 (Spike/Buffy, NC-17) by Feanix88

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[wintcrwinds]

A series of seventeen canvases are displayed at the Pelican Town Founder’s Day Festival, done in the style of a digital comic, with varying amounts of panels. Matty submitted them to Mayor Lewis anonymously, but may have given himself away by 1) not obviously featuring in any of the pictures himself and 2) lurking around the exhibit to see if people like what he’s drawn. The series is called ‘Hourly’, and is based on things he has seen throughout the time he’s lived Pelican Town - the things that make it special, in his opinion.

6AM - A single panel. Malia’s House.

The sun is just beginning to rise; the sky clear and pale. Malia has just returned from the night shift at the nursing home. She’s still wearing her scrubs, and she looks worn out, but the small smile on her face is undeniably fond as she bends down to pet the black cat winding its way around her ankles.

7AM - Four panels. Johnson-Phan/Pena farm.

The first two panels are of some random things from around the farm - a funny looking scarecrow with a turnip for a head, a clutch of confused looking hens, and three crates of shiny red apples.

The third panel is of Art and Lizzie standing in a barren field at the edge of the property. Art looks crestfallen, but Lizzie has noticed something.

The fourth panel - something is growing! A tiny green sprout is poking out of the dark soil, and Lizzie has thrown one of her arms around Art, pointing at it with stars in her eyes. Art looks shocked and delighted.

8AM - Two panels. Pelican Town Square, Library.

The first panel is of Gabe and Thalia on their way to school. They are holding hands, and appear to be playing some sort of hopping game on the paving stones as they walk. Thalia has a little lunch box clutched in her hand, and Gabe is carrying her backpack on his shoulder.

The second panel is outside the library, just before the school bell rings. Thalia is waving an excited goodbye as Alex holds open the door for her to go inside for class.

9AM - Four panels. Varani farm.

The first two panels are of Kiran’s cows, the second being specifically of Lola and Sadie, who are gently touching noses.

The third panel is of Kiran pouring feed into their trough. His hair is pulled back in a bun, and his shirt sleeves are rolled up to the elbow.

The fourth is of Kiran standing on the bottom rung of the fence around their paddock. He has a hand outstretched to gently pet the velvet of Lola’s nose, the expression on his face pensive.

10AM - Four panels. Doctor’s Office. 

The first panel shows the morning sunlight filtering through the window of the clinic, casting Henry’s face in a warm glow as he sits at the reception desk. He looks engrossed in what he’s doing, but seems content. There’s a mug of tea at his side, and a half-eaten danish.

The second panel is of things of interest around the waiting room - the spread of magazines, a potted plant, and the posters on the walls.

The third panel is of Ben sitting at the desk in his office, enjoying a moment of relative calm before his next patient arrives. There’s an empty plate beside him too, and the light from the window catches the steam from his coffee, giving the scene a dreamy quality. 

The fourth panel has been drawn through the window in the door that leads to the ward. Koa is sitting on one of the beds, looking sheepish as Ben applies a bandaid to some unseen injury on his forehead. 

11AM - A single panel. Pelican Town Square.

A flurry of leaves skitters across the cobbles. Dakota is standing at the community notice board, carefully pinning up their poster inviting people to join their dnd group. They look nervous, but hopeful. Iris is sitting on one of the benches nearby. She’s on the phone, and looks bored and frustrated. She has her own notice clutched in her hand.

12PM - Three panels. Mercers’ General Store

The first two panels are of some of the local produce available in the General Store, carefully reconstructed in bright, appealing colours.

The third panel is of Jillian, who is stacking some shelves, and Finley, who is leaning on the counter and grinning as they talk to her. Jillian is in the process of rolling her eyes, but she has her face turned away from Finley so they won’t see her smile. They’re both in their uniforms.

1PM - A single panel. Graveyard.

The sun is high in the sky. Sofia sits beneath the large oak tree that grows next to the cemetery. She has a little packed lunch set out on the grass beside her, but it looks largely untouched - she’s too busy reading her book! The cover reads ‘Carrie’.

2PM - A single panel. Community Centre.

Having found time in their busy schedules for a little break, Adria and Ben are sitting together in the small park next to the old community centre. They have takeaway coffees from the saloon, and a bag of biscotti open on the bench between them. They are chatting amiably, Adria laughing softly at something Ben has said.

3PM - Two panels. Mayor Lewis’s House.

The Mayor is standing by his front gate, a pile of important-looking papers precariously balanced in one of his arms. He’s the only subject that seems aware that he’s being sketched, and he waves cheerfully at the artist. A piece of paper is caught in the breeze and flutters away.

Sasha is watching her father from the doorway of their house, her expression quietly affectionate.

4PM - A single panel. Abandoned JojaMart.

The sun is low in the sky, but the assembled crew are still hard at work on the construction of the town’s new cinema. Ben and Fry are on the roof, in the process of taking down the old Joja sign once and for all. Elaine is directing from the ground, looking very professional in a hard hat and tool belt, and Art can be seen through the window of the building, sawing enthusiastically through some wooden boards.

In the background, Koa is whistling as he carries a box of geodes. One has fallen off the pile and cracked open on the sidewalk - it’s got a prismatic shard inside, but he hasn’t seen it!

5PM - Two panels. Cindersap Forest.

The first panel is of the exterior of Sloane’s van against the backdrop of the dark woods. There is a handmade sign posted outside, offering palmistry and tarot readings, and the fairy lights hung around the windows are glowing cheerfully.

The second panel is of Sloane faerself, handing over a package of herbal tea to Anya to make use of at the spa. 

6PM - Four panels. The beach.

The four panels depict Jemma practicing some manoeuvres with her sword, kicking up sand and ocean spray on all sides. She looks like she’s having a lot of fun. The seagulls scattered around her don’t seem to share the sentiment.

7PM - Three panels. Elaine’s workshop.

The first two panels are of some of the projects set up around Elaine’s shop. There are a few intricately carved chairs and tables, and some beautiful handmade vases standing next to her pottery wheel.

Elaine is busy sanding in the third panel, her hands covered in scrapes and sawdust. Her dinner, which sits on the bench beside her, has only been picked at and left to go cold. Her cell phone is lit up - the tiny letters on the display look like they might say ‘Sofia’, but it’s hard to tell.

8PM - A single panel. The mountains.

The night sky is purple from the remains of the setting sun, and is already filled with a galaxy of stars. Sasha and Zola are crowded around a telescope, which looks a little battered from being dragged half way up the mountain. Zola points into the distance with enthusiasm, but Sasha looks unconvinced. In the sky behind them is a tiny UFO, but they don’t seem to have noticed it.

9PM - Five panels. Stardrop Saloon.

The first panel is of Archie. She sits alone in the corner of the room, headphones on, the screen of her laptop lighting up her face and reflecting in her glasses. Her bag is on top of the other chair at the table, pointedly letting people know she doesn’t want anyone to sit there. There’s a little ghost sticker on her computer.

The second panel is of Arden and Jemma. The girls are standing behind the bar and amusing themselves with cocktail tricks (or Arden is amusing Jemma, who has been given a plastic cup to practice with). They have matching paper umbrellas tucked behind their ears.

The third panel finds a group in the game room. Koa, Malia, Finley and Jillian are playing a game of pool - Koa and Jillian are losing, and Jillian doesn’t look like she’s taking it very well. 

The fourth panel is of the bar, where Lizzie, Sasha, Art and Kiran are all sitting together. They look like they’re playing some sort of drinking game, the rules of which are unclear. In the background, Elaine and Sofia can be seen sitting together at a cosy table.

The fifth panel is of Sloane, who is dancing to the music playing on the jukebox, a glass of wine in hand. Fae don’t seem to have a care in the world.

10PM - A single panel. Water tower.

The final panel depicts the water tower near the train station. It stands as an inky silhouette against the night sky, which is full of stars and a large silvery moon. In the distance, the Valley’s purple mountains loom large. Two figures are sat on the tower’s platform, their legs dangling over the edge as they rest their arms against the railing, and their features cast in shadow. The Valley sure looks beautiful from up there.

[cantgetoutofmyheda]

Clextober 2019 - Ghouls’ Night Out

Anon Prompt: “Who just hangs out in hospitals?”

---

Lexa knew it was a bad idea from the start—the mixture of a sad and drunk Anya was one that she rarely hoped would make an appearance to the public eye, let alone during a weekend that nearly everyone in their city would be out, bar hopping, and also likely very drunk. It wasn’t that the brunette was a homebody—she enjoyed nights out with her friends, happy hours after work with her colleagues, but there was always something about going out during Halloween weekend that didn’t sit well with her.

Tonight was a reminder of why.

She sat in the waiting room of the hospital, Luna in a drunken sleep at her side—her werewolf costume still on, likely keeping her warm and snug in the rather uncomfortable chair in the extremely sterile room. In true Lexa fashion, she half-assed her costume. Anya pleaded for her best friend to dress up, saying that it would make their girls’ night out exponentially better, so Lexa threw on what she would normally wear on a night out—black jeans and a t-shirt, and topped off the look with a cheap set of vampire fangs.

The brunette scanned the room and realized she was the only person in there that wasn’t in a true costume. Of course, with it being Saturday night before Halloween at 2am, the majority of the people surrounded her would be in costumes. Everyone probably had similar stories—too much booze and partying leading to some stupid accident or fight.

She shook her head, recounting the events of their night. She knew the should have gone home after the third bar. She knew she would have been able to convince both Anya and Luna that the night should end there, but for some reason, she let them drag her to the fourth and final stop. The brunette wouldn’t be lying if she said that by the fourth bar, she finally started to have a little fun—the music was better, the crowds had cleared up a bit, making it easier for them to get attention from the bartenders to get their drink orders in, and the location was pretty close to their shared apartment. She found herself swaying to the music with a girl dressed as Princess Leia when a song she actually liked had come on. She looked around the room, trying to land her eyes on Anya—she made a mental note of wanting to introduce the two, figuring Princess Leia would make a nice distraction from the recent breakup of her friend in the Han Solo costume. It wasn’t until she heard a loud crash and saw the particular Han Solo falling off the bar top and clenching her arm as she hit the ground that she knew their night would go in a completely different direction.

Lexa looked at the clock—it was 2:35am. They had been there for almost an hour and she hadn’t heard from any of the triage nurses about her friend. She knew that ultimately, the girl was fine. If anything, she had a broken arm, so in the grander scheme of things, she wasn’t worried, and judging by the amount of people in the waiting room, she figured they would be there for quite some time. She stood up and looked around, trying to find signs towards the cafeteria, and crossed her fingers that it would still be open—they mistakenly had a mixture of beer and whiskey for dinner, and the brunette’s stomach was aching for something a little more filling.

She thanked her lucky stars when she realized the door was unlocked and pushed it to gain entrance to the large room. She looked around and saw that though the space was rather empty, as were most of the food stations, there was still coffee and a salad bar. After she made herself a plate and paid, she found herself a secluded seat towards the back of the dining hall. She was mid chew when she heard a voice coming from right above her.

“Mind if I sit at this table?”

Lexa looked around—there were only a few other people sitting down, leaving the majority of other tables open. The woman standing above her was dressed similarly to everyone else—hospital scrubs and a lanyard with her name on it, “Uh, sure.”

“Thanks,” the blonde said, taking a seat, “I don’t want to be a bother—we don’t have to talk or anything, it honestly would just be nice to be around a person who isn’t drunk and in a costume, or someone I work with, for a change.”

Lexa smiled as she set her fork down, “Not a fan of the drunken mishaps over Halloween weekend?”

The blonde laughed, “You have no idea how ridiculous some of the ER injuries are. I’m Clarke, by the way.”

Lexa nodded, understanding what the woman was saying. After all, her best friend was probably one of the ridiculous incidents she had come across during the night, “Clarke,” she repeated, “I’m Lexa.”

Clarke smiled, “If you don’t mind my asking, what brings you to this lovely cafeteria at 2:45 in the morning?”

“Just hanging out,” Lexa shrugged.

Clarke furrowed her brows, “Who just hangs out in hospitals?”

Lexa let out a small laugh, realizing how her answer must have come across, “My best friend is probably one of the ridiculous incidents that you mentioned. Happen to see Han Solo with a hurt arm? I’m just waiting for her so we can get home.”

“You’re that Lexa, then?” the blonde smirked.

The brunette sat up a little straighter in her chair, “Excuse me?”

“Anya—that’s your friend’s name, right?” she waited for Lexa to nod before she continued, “I took a look at her arm when she came in. She was still pretty drunk. Anyway, my x-ray tech came in to bring her to get some screenings and as he was wheeling her out, she said something about how her best friend Lexa is a sucker for pretty blondes.”

Lexa widened her eyes, feeling herself start to blush, “Oh, God. Sorry, she’d been drinking for a while.”

“I see,” Clarke nodded, “anyway, thanks for the company, but I should probably get back to Han and see what the damage is looking like.”

“Can I come back there in a few minutes to see how she is?” Lexa asked, watching the doctor start to stand up and walk away.

Clarke turned around and looked over her shoulder, flashing a small smile, “I was hoping you would.”

In that moment, Lexa finally realized that going out on Halloween weekend wasn’t so bad after all.

[clumsycapitolunicorn]

Buffy 7x21 Thoughts:

The potentials getting saved by Buffy. You know, the leader they kicked out of her own house. 

Buffy going back to her own house and everything carrying on like the awful normal it. Like, aren’t any of you going to at least apologise for how you treated her? You don’t have time for a full apology yet but at least tell her how wrong you were for kicking her out (if i don’t get one in the last episode though like come on. giles especially you.)

Giles and Jaffa cakes. Nah, there are better biscuits than that Giles you know this. 

The way Buffy is being nice to xander and he to her like again, he wasn’t part of the kicking out crew...

Anya and her bedside manner though lmao I love Anya (yeah I was not happy with her in 7x19 but I at least still love ok). 

Her and Andrew drinking alcohol meant for the patients wounds then deciding to go take some stuff from the abandoned hospital. Clever wonderful beans. Andrew has kiiind of grown on me.

Willow is being told to do some bigger magic on the axe thing. So that entire magic arc last season was just...for the drama. never made sense. and they killed tara just for that? huh? whatever not getting into that. 

What’s this with Faith admitting she was jealous of Buffy. Truly is the end of the world.

Xander knocking Dawn out had me stressing for a second and then I did think oh he’s taking her away from the danger and then it was revealed Buffy wanted her out of the danger (see still loves her even though Dawn kicked her out. You have an apology to give her.) Honestly wasn’t expecting Dawn to taser him. No way she’s letting Buffy do this fight alone.

ANYA MAKING THAT BEAUTIFUL SPEECH ON HUMANITY AT THE HOSPITAL AND HOW SHE IS READY TO FIGHT LIKE CAN WE TALK ABOUT GROWTH. SHE HAS THE BEST SPEECHES ALWAYS. THEN IT CUT TO HER AND ANDREW PLAYING WITH THE ABANDONED WHEEL CHAIRS. WHOLESOME.

OFC THE SHADOW MEN TURNED INTO THE WATCHERS THEY’RE ASSHOLES (Except Giles although I am side eyeing the person wearing his skin making bad decisions this season). THE WATCHERS MAKING YOUNG GIRLS FIGHT VAMPIRES AND NOT ALLOWED FRIENDS OR A LIFE AND IF THEY MAKE IT TO 18 THEY MAY DIE FOR THEIR TEST. FREAKING WATCHERS...

Angel popping up to help Buffy ofc. I’ll be watching the rest of your show soon when I’m done with Buffy wait your turn. 

God I am so not here for the bullshirt b*ngel sp*ffy nonsense that is about to go down. I. DO. NOT. CARE. FOR. EITHER. THERE ARE BIG WORLD ENDING PROBLEMS GOING ON I DON’T NEED DRAMA ABOUT SHIPS I DON’T CARE FOR  (I ship Buffy and that awesome slayer axe. Also Buffy and better friends. 

ONTO THE LAST EP OH BOY.

[alitaimagines]

request: no

georgi popovich x fem reader

note: i wrote this on my other blog but I feel like you guys would enjoy it as well.

fandom: yuri on ice

“Oh wow. I’m the one who’s a clown?” You exclaimed as stared at the statement Emil made. “Right, the next time you fall on your ass during your performance, make sure I’m not around or I will scream out what you just told me. I’ll make sure to hold a sign that reads clown in large letters. Better yet, I’ll write a sign that says, "you’re not a clown, you’re the entire circus Emil.”“

Emil gave you a bewildered look. "I’m not the one who’s hiding feelings for a certain someone.” You whipped your head around to look at Mila. “You told Emil I like Leo?” As you were about to kick drop Mila, Emil laughed. “No she didn’t but you just did.”

You growled as you threw your head back in annoyance, “Not a word out of you Nekola or I’ll tell Michele about your little crush on Sara.” Emil put his hands up in surrender as you sipped your coffee in confidence. “So Mila, how’s your love life progressed since we’ve last seen each other?”

Mila shrugged, “The same shit. Trust me Emil, Sara won’t ever see you that way.” You choked on your coffee realizing what she meant. “It’s best you figure out another girl to go after. I mean there are so many to choose from that one is bound to find you attractive.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Emil shrieked at Mila’s comment. You sighed and gave a look too Mila. “Emil, Sara is a whole lesbian. When two girls like each other, they tend to start dating, you know!”

Emil gave you a confused look as you widened your eyes at him. “Emil, I swear to fucking god, it’s like I’m talking to fucking five year old. You really need to stop doing whatever extreme sports you partake in because it’s getting into your head.” You sucked some air in before screaming to Emil. “MILA AND SARA ARE LESBIANS. THE TWO OF THEM LIKE EACH OTHER.”

Once he realized what you meant, his eyes widened, “Wow, it’s like I’m the seventh wheel. I’ve truly upgraded.” You rolled your eyes at what Emil said as you scrolled through your phone. Just as you were about to exit Instagram, you noticed Leo’s last photo.

Leo had a girl wrapped around his arm as she kissed his cheek with a heart emoji as his caption. Mila and Emil noticed that your mood had entirely changed. She took the phone from your hands and scanned the photo realizing what happened.

“Oh no, ( your name ), I’m so sorry.” Mila whispered as Emil took the phone from Mila’s hands. “I thought you told me that Leo didn’t like Camila.”

You laughed from the bitterness as Emil didn’t say a word. “That’s what he told me when we were together at the club last week and now I have to see him tonight.” The two of them rubbed your back to try to sooth you but they could tell the tears you were holding back.

“Listen, if we run into Leo and Camila, we can ignore them.” Mila offered as you shrugged. “And if you want to leave early, you have every right too. I’m sure Sara and I will go home with you.”

“If I see them together tonight, I might actually lose it.” You whispered as the three of you walked into the banquet hall. The London Cup was holding a banquet for all of the competitors the night before the competition and since all of the coaches forced everyone to go, you were more than sure that Leo was going to be there. “Maybe I can make it out before I get seen by anyone.”

You spoke to soon as the paparazzi had already seen you. You checked your semi-tearstained face and tried to make sure you didn’t look completely destroyed from the face. You grabbed a brush and the powder from your bag and reapplied it to your face before walking in. Emil gave you one last look of confidence as you noticed the plethora of skaters on the floor.

Guang Hong and Phichit immediately noticed the three of you walking in. “Hey! You guys made it!” Phichit exclaimed as he embraced you into a hug. “Where are the Crispino twins?” Emil explained that Sara and Michele fell down with the cold due to temperature difference.

“Well, Leo and everyone else are in the back. We’re just waiting on the two of you to really start the party.” Guang Hong said as the two of them dragged the three of you to one of the rooms in the back. You stared at Mila and Emil as they noticed your uncomfortable look.

The room was filled with basically everyone from last years Grand Prix Final and the competitions prior to that. You noticed the only ones missing were Seung-Gil and Yurio. You knew Seung-Gil hated socializing, as did Yurio so it didn’t come off as a surprise.

You scanned the room and seen Leo. He was talking to a few people and as you realized that Camila wasn’t there, you had spoken too soon. Camila was walking back from the bathroom and immediately joined Leo. You wanted to turn around and ignore them but you had made eye contact with Leo.

He along with Camila ran towards you. You gulped down the lump in your throat as you tried to find Emil or Mila but they had been dragged off in different directions.

“Hey! This is-!” Leo started to exclaim before you cut him off. “I know who she is. I’ll see you around.” You gave the two a look before walking away and tried to find the closest bar. Leo looked like a kicked puppy as he continued to stare at you before walking away as Camila.  

You were three years older than Leo and while you thought it was okay, others found it odd that you were so much older than Leo.

You found the bar to only see Georgi and Christophe there. Christophe was already on the brink of being passed out drunk as Georgi was drinking to himself. You didn’t know Georgi well but the two of you were mutual friends because of Mila.

“Hey Popovich.” You said as you slumped down on your chair. “How are you.”

He gave you a look before shrugging, “The same.”

“So we’re both heartbroken, that’s cool.” You exclaimed semi jokingly as you ordered two shots of Fireball whiskey. Georgi couldn’t help but laugh. “You too? With who?” You motioned discreetly to Leo as his eyes widened in realization. “To heartbreaks.”

The two of you clinked shot glasses together as the bitter taste of whiskey went down your throat. You shook off the bitterness as Georgi laughed at your reaction.

“Man, heartbreak fucking sucks. Cheating and being lead on are the fucking WORST.” You growled as you hit your head on the bar top. “Sometimes you just need to skate out your emotions. Everyone seen my season that was around Anya and it helped a bit.”

You shrugged, “I don’t think it would be suitable to make a routine about a relationship that never happened. Being lead on is a different kind of heartbreak if you ask me.” Georgi nodded as ordered another two rounds of whiskey. The two of you chugged them down again. “Isn’t it kind of fucked that we’re both just sitting here depressed?”

“Yeah but what can we do?” You smiled. “Tomorrow Beyonce is coming to London and I wanted to surprise Leo with the tickets but fuck that. Want to come with me instead?”

Georgi was surprised, “Sure. I don’t listen to her but I’ll go with.” You smiled as you dug into your purse and got the ticket. “They’re not the best kind of seats but hey, we’re going to fucking see BEYONCE!” Georgi laughed at your enthusiasm. As you discreetly looked over to Leo, you seen that he was staring at you but you didn’t bother to give him another look.

The night progressed as both you and Georgi continued to drink the night away. The two of you didn’t realize how much the two of you were actually drinking until you seen the bottle half finished.

Mila and Emil constantly made sure the two of you were okay since they knew the state of both your love lives. You were feeling the whiskey getting to you as Georgi was already slowly falling on his chair. Mila took advantage of the situation and played your favorite song.

“Oh my god, Georgi! It’s Check on It by Beyonce!” You drunkly squealed to him. “Come on!” You dragged him to the dance floor as you started the choreography to the song.

Mila was there when the Coachella performance was streaming on Youtube and seen the tears coming down your face as you watched Beyonce. She had watched you rewind the stream over ten times as you tried to learn the dance. Seeing you dance it perfectly didn’t come off as a surprise to her.

“YES ( YOUR NAME )!” Mila screamed as you started to take you jacket off. You started to back it up on Georgi as Mila and Emil whistled. Viktor was already drunkly joining you on the floor as he tried to follow your steps. Christophe followed and all of sudden, everyone was dancing on the floor. Georgi had a small blush on his face but didn’t stop you.

“PLAY IT AGAIN!” Mila screamed as the DJ did as he was instructed and replayed the song.

//

You woke up the next morning realizing you had to show your face at the London Cup in a few hours. You weren’t exactly in the mood to skate but it was your fault as well as Georgi’s for drinking so much. Mila wasn’t competing but she had accompanied you to the competition.

“Wow, I’m surprised you got up in time.” Mila joked as you were drying your hair after your shower. “You and Georgi were so drunk last night, it was ridiculous. He was super happy on the fact that you were dancing on him.” You gave a dry laugh as the two of you walked out of the hotel room.

“I wasn’t expecting to be having such a fun time with Georgi but it got my mind of Leo.” Mila bursted out laughing at the mention of Leo’s name. “He was so upset last night. When he seen you so close with Georgi, he was screaming in anger to Guang Hong.”

You rolled your eyes, “Oh, he could lead me on but the minute I start to have fun, I’m suddenly the bitch?” Mila shrugged as the two of you tried to hail a cab. “Plus, you know how I’ve been trying to find a partner for a partner competition? Georgi offered to be my partner!”

Mila’s eyes widened, “That’s great! I’m assuming Yakov is training the two of you?” You shook your head no. “My coach is. Yakov isn’t trained into couples skate but my coach is so she’s training us starting next week.”

As you made it to the arena, you noticed the packed crowd. The multiple flags in the air as you ran to find your coach. Mila ran to the mens locker room and found Georgi warming up for his routine.

“You and ( your name ), what the fuck is up with that?” Mila exclaimed. Georgi shrugged. “We’re partners now. We have our first training session next week. Why?”

Mila pointed to Leo, “The two of you are heartbroken, it isn’t the healthiest to be each others rebound.” Georgi rolled his eyes. “We’ll be fine.” Georgi excused himself to get back to warming up.

You were on the other end of the building as your turn was coming up. You were doing a routine to “Polovestian Dance” from Prince Igor. You knew it was a bit unconventional but you had been practicing for a little over a year and you were beyond confident in it.

“From ( your country ), ( your name )!” The announcer said as you skated out to the rink. You noticed Georgi, Mila, Leo, and a few others in the front row.

You stood in the middle of the rink as you slowly started to skate. The routine was way out of your element as your last few routines were to pop music. You were about to do your first quad and managed to land safely on your third jump as the crowd clapped in support.

You were skating your emotions away like Georgi had said to do. You were a bit scared that you were getting close to Georgi so quickly because Georgi was someone you weren’t expecting to be so close with. He was funny, smart, witty, and that was something everyone pushed away because of how dramatic he was.

As the song was coming to a finish, you noticed Georgi standing up and looking at you intensely, hoping you didn’t fall as your final quad was coming up. Just as you went for your quad again, you stuck your landing a lot more confidently as the song finished. You screamed out in happiness as you skated back to the middle of the rink.

Your coach immediately went to open the door as you tacked her for a hug. She put the sweater that they were handing out all of the competitors and led you to the bench to find out your result.

“98.9”

You broke out in a smile as you waved to the camera along with your coach. You went to back to give interviews as you noticed Leo approaching you. You wanted to roll your eyes but refrained from doing so as the cameras were still rolling. Not too far from Leo was Georgi.

“Georgi!” You said as you moved past Leo and went Georgi to hug him. “How did I do? I’m sure I at least made silver!”

The two of you walked away as Georgi went to the warm up center to wait for his turn. Leo wasn’t exactly happy that you were suddenly so close with Georgi. He knew he should have told you about Camila but you were his best friend, damn it.

Georgi was performing the Mens Short Single which didn’t have too many great competitors. You knew Georgi was sure that was going to rank silver or gold so you weren’t too worried about it.

“Listen, after this, we’re heading straight to the concert. I know we look like complete trash but we literally aren’t going to have any time to get redressed and make it in time.” You explained as you went to the tunnel where the skaters were being released onto the ice from. “I’ll be watching from the stands, Popovich.”

Georgi smiled as he went out on the ice with a smile on his face. You trudged to the front row and took Georgi’s place next to Mila. You didn’t know the inspiration behind his routine today but he was skating to “Somebody to Love” by Queen so you were sure it still had some element to his relationship with Anya,

You were mesmerized by his routine and didn’t notice him skate by you as he gave you a wink. You gave him a small wave as he went back to the center of the rink. He was going for his first jump and landed smoothly. You stood up and clapped as his routine was coming to a finish.

“Wow, one day and the two of you are in love.” Mila joked as Georgi went to the bench with Yakov to find his score out.

//

After the competition, the two of you had your heads in the clouds. You had gotten silver like you expected as Georgi received gold. You were wearing leggings and the competition sweater as Georgi was practically wearing the same thing except he was wearing sweatpants.

The two of you went to the concert and Georgi couldn’t help but admit, this was the most fun he had in a while. He still had small lingering feelings for Anya but being with you, his mind was pushing those thoughts away. Georgi just hoped that you were slowly losing feelings for Leo as well.

Once the concert ended, you noticed that a few photographers had seen that you and Georgi were together and you were sure that the two of you were going to make national headlines in the morning.

“Georgi, I’m hungry.” You whined as you held onto his arm. The man was marginally taller than you so your weight, regardless of how much you actually weighed, didn’t impact him in the slightest. “I’m willing to eat anything.”

Georgi showed you his phone, “Mila and Yurio are at a restaurant not too far from here, want to go?” You nodded as you noticed Georgi slowly starting to hold you hand. It was a soft hold but you felt the smile appearing on your face.

“And the winners have arrived!”  You heard Mila screamed as she ushered you where everyone was sitting. “How was the concert?”

“It was amazing! The next time Beyonce is around, we all need to go see her.” You gushed to her. “Georgi and I were thinking about the topic of our routine and we might be doing a mashup of her songs.”

Mila was surprised. “Wow, you guys already chose a singer? Do you guys have a theme yet?”

Both you and Georgi smiled at each other, “Electric love.”

//

Georgi had offered to travel to your home country to train. Your coach was still in the midst of arranging the music so the two of you had a few days for Georgi to travel around and sight see your country.

“So what is a girl your age doing liking someone like Leo?” Georgi asked as the two of you were walking around a park. “He’s still 19 and you’re 22, aren’t you?”

You sighed, “Yeah but we’ve been friends since we were kids. I started to really like him a few months back but the age gap really didn’t bother us. It sounds kind of predatory but he was 18 when he showed interest in me. Why do you ask?”

“Well, he’s still a kid. Someone in their twenties shouldn’t be competing for the attention of a teenager.” Georgi admitted. “I’m not trying to be rude to Leo but it’s the truth.”

You knew he had a point.

“I know but who am I going to go after?” You asked as you threw your head back. “I don’t have many guy friends and the ones I do have are either gay or in relationships.”

Georgi smirked, “You got me.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his confidence. “You’re right.”

From that moment on, the two of you were almost always together. He never formally asked you out but each time the two of you went out on dates, it was almost always circling around the news.

Everyone knew about it but the ones who expressed their happiness was Mila and Emil. They both thought that the two of you relying on each other would be a bit toxic but when they seen that it was the complete opposite of that, they were more than happy to support the relationship.

Leo was furious whenever he seen you posting pictures with Georgi. He knew that the two of you were partners now but he wasn’t expecting the two of you to end up dating each other. Him and Camila broke up a bit after you and Georgi got together. She realized that Leo still held feelings for you and whenever he seen a photo of you and Georgi together, he was livid beyond belief. Leo never expected someone as dramatic as Georgi to be with you but now there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

The two of you had entered a non-competitive competition to practice your routine. If the two of you aced the routine at a lousy free competition, you were sure that the two of you would qualify for an actual competition.

The songs you had chosen for the routine were “Hold up”, “Countdown”, “Check on It”, and “Crazy in Love”. Check on It was a staple to your relationship with Georgi and he more than wanted the song to be included in the routine.

//

The morning of the competition had came and while you were expecting it to be just you and Georgi at the arena, you noticed Mila, Emil, both of the Crispino twins, Viktor, and Yuri in the stands.

“Hey guys!” You said excitedly as you went to hug everyone. “I wasn’t expecting to any of you here!”

Mila smiled, “We all wanted to come and support the both of you. We seen how hard the two of you have been working so we figured we could come and see the routine.” Just as Mila finished talking, Georgi came up to you.

“Wow Georgi, you really got lucky.” Emil joked as he nudged at you. “The two of you look great. So what songs did the two of you choose to do? We know you chose Beyonce but which songs?”

You looked at Georgi before laughing, “That’s a surprise! You’ll see when we get up there but for now, we have to head out. We’re up soon but after that, we can all head up to my place and have dinner. We have something to announce!”

They all looked up at the two of you in confusion. You gave them an evil smile before you grabbed Georgi’s hand and walked away. Out of the corner of your eye, you could have sworn you had seen Leo but you didn’t exactly see if it was him.

Both you and Georgi were wearing similar outfits. You were wearing a costume that was a bit out of your element. It showed a bit more skin compared to your previous outfits but Georgi didn’t mind it one bit. He enjoyed seeing you practice in the costume.

“From Russia, Georgi Popovich and from ( your country ), ( your name )!” The announcer stated as you heard the cheers from your friends. “A medley too Beyonce.”

You stood in the middle of the rink as the song started. You were skating around Georgi as swayed to “Hold up”. You had went low to the floor which caused Emil and Viktor to wolf whistle jokingly as “Countdown” was slowly starting.

Georgi grabbed your hand and reeled you back in. He flipped you as “Countdown” began. The crowd cheered as the song got more exciting. You did a quad and landed in Georgi’s arms as he flipped you once more. You knew “Check on It” was coming up and that was the song you were excited for. You skated around Georgi as “Check on It” began and you heard Mila’s scream as she realized the song. You went for a triple toe loop and landed safely on the ground as Georgi went for his quad.

You quickly glanced at the crowd and seen that everyone was mesmerized by the routine. Georgi grabbed your legs and lifted you up from the ankles as you smiled at the crowd before he let you down. You skated around Georgi again as “Crazy in Love” began. The crowd immediately clapped as you started clap as Georgi went to dance.

Just as Georgi finished his solo part, you immediately began to dance. The cheers from the crowd as well as the screams from your friends had you smiling from ear to ear. The music had slowed down as you went for toe jump. As you landed back on the ice, you knew it was time for the finale.

You were going to backflip and hopefully you make the landing. Georgi grabbed your ankles again and you took a deep breath before looking at Georgi. You gave him a look of complete trust as he went to flip you. You managed to make the backflip successful as you wobbled to stick the landing.

The crowd had went crazy as the two of you went back to center ice. The music finished as you hugged Georgi with everything you had. He went for a kiss and you immediately returned it as the two of you waved to the camera before going onto the bench.

As you were walking out of the tunnel to head over to the press zone, you noticed Mila and the rest of your gremlin friends running towards you.

“Holy fuck! You guys, that was AMAZING!” Mila screamed as she hugged the both of you. “I had never seen such chemistry for pair before!”

You gave her bashful smile, “Thanks! We can meet up after we finish our interviews. Mila, you have the keys to my apartment anyway so bring everyone up there and we can order really shit fast food or I can whip something up.”

They all nodded as everyone trudged up towards the exit. You and Georgi went to the press zone and gave off interview after interview. Georgi was able to tell that you were starting to get annoyed by the constant interviewers and since he had been living with you for so long, he figured you probably were hungry and in the need for some wine.

As the two of you managed to escape the mix up zone, you seen Leo walking towards you. You gave Georgi a look as he squeezed your hand.

“Hey.” Was all Leo said. “You guys did great.”

You wondered for a minute, “Thanks. Hard work and dedication for the past year does that.”

The three of you looked at each other as Georgi was fixing his hair.

“So, the two of you are serious?” You nodded as Georgi finally spoke up. You were a bit scared to hear what he had to say. “Yeah, we’re moving in together. She’s moving to Russia starting next month.”

Hearing what Georgi said, your face contorted into a smile. All Leo was able to do was gave you a small smile as a million thoughts were racing through his mind. You were able to tell he was struggling to say something.

“That’s great. I’m happy for the both of you.” Leo stated as he a gave a breath of release. “How are you going to compete if you live in Russia?”

“Oh, the off season is coming up and the next competition is a pairs competition but it isn’t for a while so when the time comes to train, I’m still keeping my house here and living there until I’m finished.” You explained. “Other than that, I’m staying in Russia with Georgi.”

Leo nodded, “Thats cool. Well, I hope to see the both of you around soon.” You nodded as you gave him another small smile before walking away.

Georgi already impatient at the fact that you were taking so long with Leo. You jogged up to him as he held you close and attacked you with small kisses. Leo knew he lost his chance the night you got close with Georgi and if he was being honest, that was his biggest mistake. Losing you over a girl and a relationship that didn’t last long.

//

Both you and Georgi were a bit nervous to tell the rest of your friends the news. You knew it was early in the relationship for you to be so bold to move halfway across the world for a boy you had been dating for just a year but you knew in your gut that Georgi was it for you and Georgi knew he couldn’t go through another heartbreak like he did with Anya. The two of you found comfort and love in each other and you knew this was all the two of you wanted.

When you reached the door of your apartment, you heard the commotion from inside. Viktor and Emil were yelling about something as Mila was trying to hush them down.

“Hey! How did everything go?” Sara asked as she kicked Emil out of his seat on the couch for you to sit on. “You guys took longer than expected.”

You laughed as you sipped the glass of wine that Mila had given you.

“It went great but we’re really excited about something and I know Mila will especially be happy for what I’m about to say.” You said as they all listened intensely. “As you guys can see, there are boxes every where.”

“Just tell us!” Viktor screeched.

“Georgi and I decided we’re moving in together and since I train a lot in Russia, I’m moving in with him over there.” There was a long silence before Mila tackled you into a hug. “You’re moving to Russia! Oh my god!”

Viktor now realizing managed to join in the hug, “We’re practically going to be neighbors!” You laughed as you thanked Emil, Sara, Michele, and Yuri. “I’m moving next month and Georgi is going to help me get settled in.”

“That’s amazing! This night is calling for a celebration so boys, get off your asses and go buy the most expensive bottle of alcohol any of you can find and we can stay back and cook something!” Mila screamed as you tried to pry her off you.

You gave a look to Georgi knowing that he just wanted to spend time with you but you knew that wasn’t going to happen. You gave him a small smile before ushering him with Emil and Michele to go to the store.

You found love in Georgi and he found it in you. While you thought you were going to find something in Leo, it was like a blessing in disguise. Leo was the coverup and Georgi was the real prize. Now you just hoped that you and Leo would go back to being friends. Maybe not now but slowly start fixing your friendship with him again.

-ALITA

[sapphicsaro]

morgan + anya, five years

@vicapuleti requested: “Morgan and I guess 5year old Anya ? You knew this one was coming 😍”

apparently i can’t write a fluffy story about two five year olds lol, so here’s some angst with hints of fluff about our two favorite ballerinas. feat. hints of bucky and sam!

-------

“How do you spell it?”

“N-A-T-A…S?”

“Mhmm.”

“S-H-A. Natasha?”

“Good,” Clint replied, both hands on the steering wheel of his truck, eyes on the road ahead.

“Next one, papa!”

“Let’s go back to Russian, okay? You want to be ready for later.”

“Okay,” Anya fiddled with her small bear, and glanced at her father. “Should I start?”

“Yes, pigeon, lemme hear it.”

“Okay, um…Самолёт построим сами (We build an airplane)…Uh, Понесёмся над лесами (We'll soar above the forests), Понесёмся над лесами (We'll soar above the forests)…Um…”

“А потом (And then)…”

“Oh yeah! А потом вернёмся к маме (And then we'll come back to mama)!”

Clint smiled, “Good job, pidgey.”

Anya giggled, “Are we almost there, papa?”

“Actually, we are,” He answered, pulling the truck into the long driveway of the cabin. “Are you excited?”

“Yeah, I miss Morgan.”

“I’m sure she missed you too, baby.” Clint got up to the oh-so familiar cabin, parking close to the entrance. He hopped out of the car, slamming the door shut, before heading to the rear passenger door to get Anya. When he opened the door, she had already unbuckled her seatbelt and was smiling at him widely.

“I did it all by myself, papa.”

Clint shook his head, “Oh my gosh, you’re practically an adult…” She giggled. “C’mon, sweetie,” He held his arms out and she reached for him, letting him pick her up and place her on the grass. He grabbed her tiny backpack from the back seat, and slammed the door behind him. “Ready?” he held his hand out to her.

She grabbed it tightly, “да (Yes)!”

Hand in hand, the daddy-daughter duo made their way up the porch steps to the front door of the cabin.

“Can I please ring the bell?”

Clint smiled at his little girl; her hair went from strawberry-blonde as a baby to a deep red like her mother’s. It was loosely braided as requested by her this morning. Her eyes were a soft green, and every time Clint sweared they were exactly like Natasha’s. Her outfit today was all picked out by herself and she had on a tiny gray jumpsuit with her favorite light up sneakers.

How could he ever say no to her cute little face?

“Go ahead, baby.”

She let go of his hand and went on her tiptoes, pressing the button to hear the ringing in the home. Anya went back to her father’s side, grabbing his hand again before the door opened.

“Is that little Anya?”

“Aunt Pepper!”

Pepper laughed, bending down so Anya could leap into her arms for a big hug. “I swear, I see you every couple months but you just keep growing!”

Anya, with her arms still around her aunt’s neck, giggled. “I grew one more inch!”

“Wow! You did? I’m so proud!” Pepper pulled away from Anya, pushing a loose strand behind her ear, “Well, little ballerina, Morgan is in her room…Think you can go up and say ‘hi’?”

Anya nodded excitingly, “Mhmm!”

Pepper stood up, releasing the five year old from her hands, “Okay, be careful on the stairs!”

Anya zoomed past and made it to the stairs, looking back at her aunt and father before carefully taking the stairs one at a time. How disciplined.

“Hi, Pepper,” Clint gave her a small hug, the glitter backpack still clenched in his hands.

“Hey, Clint. So glad you guys made it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

——

Anya made her way to the bedroom down the hall, knocking softly on the door, “Morgan?”

The door flung open to reveal five year old Morgan Stark, dressed up in a flowy yellow dress covered in little daisies. Her short hair was pulled back with a matching headband and she had on white sandals to go with the floral ensemble.

“Anya!” Morgan jumped into the redhead’s arms, “Come here! I have to show you what I got!”

The two little ones went into the pink bedroom, where Morgan’s toys were all neatly tucked away. “Close your eyes!” Morgan said as she grabbed Anya’s hands and put them up to her face.

“Okay…” Anya wasn’t one for surprises. Maybe that was hereditary.

She heard some shuffling around before Morgan shouted, “Open!”

Anya placed her hands by here side, opening her eyes to see a frilly pink tutu in her friend’s hands. “Mommy signed me up for ballet! I’m going to be just like you!”

Anya smiled, “Really?”

Morgan nodded, “Yep! I’m still doing tap. But now, I’m in ballet too!”

“I can help you with the first steps so you can know them before you go to your first class!”

A soft knock at the door caught their attention. “Hey, ballerinas, we don’t want to be late. You got an hour to eat and finish up your cards,” Pepper said.

Morgan ran to her bookshelf, grabbing her box of crayons and construction paper, “I’m ready!” She ran past her mother out of her bedroom.

“Slow on the stairs, remember, Morgan?”

“Yes, mommy!” She took the stairs one by one, her tiny sandals clacking on the wood.

Anya didn’t move from her spot in the bedroom, instead her eyes stayed locked to a spot the ground. Pepper looked at her, she knew Anya was much quieter than Morgan, but something seemed off. “Honey, are you okay?”

The redhead shrugged, “Yeah.”

Pepper walked closer to her “niece” and knelt down in front of her. “What’s wrong?”

Anya chewed at her bottom lip, a trait she definitely inherited from her mother. “I’m just nervous.”

“There’s nothing to worry about, sweetheart. It’s going to be so nice today. I promise.” Anya nodded slowly, still looking down at the floor in front of her instead of at her aunt. “C’mon, I got a peanut butter sandwich with your name all over it.” Pepper held out her hand and Anya took it, smiling slightly, as they headed downstairs.

Clint was at the kitchen table, sitting across from Morgan who was excitingly telling him a story. “He did what?”

“Jackson pulled my hair! But I told the teacher on him and he couldn’t go to recess,” she told him, spreading out her colored paper and emptying her crayons. “Miranda said that he’s mean to me because he likes me, but I think that is dumb.”

Clint laughed, “It is dumb.”

“Is this the Jackson story, again?” Pepper asked, letting go of Anya’s hand and heading into the kitchen.

“Yes!”

Anya slowly walked over to her father, looking up at him with her big green eyes. Clint smiled, and bent down to give her a kiss, “You gonna make a card with Morgan?” Anya nodded, still hesitating. “Come here,” he picked her up and made his way over to the other side of the table, placing his daughter down in the chair next to the brunette. “What color card would you like to do?”

Anya thought for a second, “Red?”

“I’m doing red too!” Morgan shouted, holding up her paper.

Clint smiled, “Red’s a good color for them. Here, give me your paper and I’ll fold them.” The two girls obliged and he returned their sheets, ready for them to decorate.

The two sat and colored away, Morgan taking up most of the conversation while Anya sat quietly alongside her. Clint was throughly entertained, as was Pepper. After the loss of their spouses, an unlikely friendship formed between the two single parents. They both felt alone, overwhelmed, and broken after losing the love of their lives, and no one quite had a shared experience like the two of them.

Tony and Nat were much more similar than anyone would care to admit. They were both stubborn as hell, would risk their lives for a mission, and never heard the word ‘no’. Clint and Pepper had many similar qualities as well, as they were the more domesticated ones in the relationship.

When their loves died, the two felt alone.

But, at Tony’s funeral, little Anya Romanoff-Barton gave Morgan H. Stark a hug, telling her that “her daddy was up in the sky and was watching over her, just like mama was.” And the rest was history.

The two girls became inseparable, ultimately making Clint and Pepper closer, too.

So, every three months, one of the pairs would make a trip to visit the other. It helped keep the adults from cooping up in their home and never leaving, which was really easy to want to do after you lost your spouse. It also helped keep the Avengers family together, even though most of them were split apart to do their own things.

However, almost all of the Avengers made time for the girls. Clint couldn’t speak for Pepper, but he had someone over almost every other week, checking up on him and playing with Anya.

Last week, Sam and Bucky were in town, an unlikely pair to want to visit a five year old. But they immediately transformed into goofy uncles, playing tag and making Anya laugh with their failed attempts to copy her gymnastic moves. Anya would whisper to Bucky in Russian when Sam wasn’t looking and he would flashback to seeing young Natasha, except Anya was free from the confines of the Red Room.

The visits helped keep Clint from falling back into his depression. The dusted were brought back, but his wife could never return. After he would tuck Anya in every night, he would lay in his bed and begin to cry, as it felt empty without Natasha. He needed help. As did Pepper.

So here they are, reconvening again, two single parents of two little ballerinas.

Today was not like the other visits, though. Today was a year after the dusted returned, and Thanos was destroyed. This also meant it was a year since the loss of Tony and Nat.

It was a particularly difficult time for Pepper and Clint, but when you’re a parent, you have to find a way to get through the sadness to take care of your child. Both parents already had to do the difficult task of telling their child that their mom/dad had died, which was not a one time thing when your child was young. 

Anya would ask about her mother all the time, and it pained Clint to think about her, as he always flashed back to her hand slipping from his and her lifeless body at the bottom of the cliff.

But, his therapist told him to think of her smile first. Think of her smiling on the porch bench, baby Anya in her arms. Think of her smiling when they finished their mission in Lagos and flopped on the bed, laughing about how quickly they completed their assignment. Think of her smiling on their flight in space; how mesmerized she was by the universe around her. Think of that instead. Don’t think about what happened when they landed. No, remember her hands entwined in his while they laid in the hospital bed, eyes never leaving their teeny newborn sleeping in the plastic basinet.

That’s the Natasha he has to remember.

So when Anya asks about “mama”, he tells her about the good times, and how much she loved her “маленький (little one)”. He tells her about her bear, the first stuffed animal Natasha picked out for her baby because it reminded her of Budapest, where she saw the same one in the window of the village shops. He tells her about the arrow necklace, which she had left in her locked jewelry box, something Bruce had miraculously rescued after their building was ambushed. It was too big on Anya, but she still wore it every day, never taking it off.  

And for Natasha, he enrolled their child in ballet and gymnastics, and kept up her Russian lessons. Anya enjoyed them, always telling her dance teachers and gymnastics instructors that she was going to be just like her “mama”.

Clint hoped so. Clint hoped to god she would have her mother’s determination and heart. She already looked so much like her, why would she need anything from him? 

“Papa, can you please check my card?”

Anya handed him the folded construction paper, the outside decorated with a “⧗”. Clint traced his fingers over the symbol, memories of its owner flooding back to him. He swallowed the lump in his throat, opening the card to reveal a stick figure drawing of Anya and her mother holding hands.

Fuck.

“It’s beautiful, sweetheart.”

Anya smiled, “Can you check my spelling?”

Clint chuckled, “Of course, baby.”

And there it was was, scribbled across the red paper: “Dear mama”.

God. 

It broke his heart. His eyes welled with tears, but he continued reading:

Dear mama, I miss you! Papa does too. I wish I could see you, but papa says you’re in heaven. I hope you can see me from up there. I’m sending lots of hugs and kisses! Я люблю тебя (I love you), Anya

Sure, her handwriting wasn’t the best, but she had been practicing writing this card for the past couple of months and Clint thought it was the best thing he had ever seen. “It’s absolutely perfect.”

Anya smiled as Clint handed her the card back, and she finally took a bite out of her sandwich.

“Mommy, is mine good?” Morgan asked.

There were tears rolling down Pepper’s cheeks as she held her daughter’s card, a beautifully done Iron Man helmet on the outside with the inside containing another drawing (this one showed Morgan and Tony, each holding a cheeseburger), and a small note that ended with “I love you 3000!”

“It’s wonderful, sweetie. Daddy will love it,” Pepper said through her tears.

Clint checked his watch, “Uh, Pep, it’s 1:30, should we get going?”

“Shoot! C’mon girls! Anya, you can bring your sandwich in the car, Morgan, put the crayons away.”

The four of them made their way outside and into Pepper’s car, strapping each of their kids into a car seat. Clint offered to drive, and Pepper gladly took him up on it. 

The drive was lengthy, and the two adults were stuck with listening to Disney music on a loop. Morgan loudly sang her heart out, Pepper encouraging her fun, while Anya sat and listened, playing with her bear and checking her card over and over again. Clint swore he could see her mumbling her Russian poem under her breath, but he stayed focused on the road.

When they got there, the music turned off and Morgan calmed down. 

Seeing the graveyard made Anya curl up into her carseat. She hadn’t been here before. When her mother had her funeral, she was at Morgan’s cabin, where they did Uncle Tony’s service too. It was a shared funeral, and her father spoke about her mom, calling her “Natasha”. Anya was sad, missing her mama, but everyone around her tried to make her feel better, telling stories of “the Black Widow” and how awesome she was.

Anya missed her a lot. Anya missed hugging her mama. She missed seeing her come home from a mission really late at night to sneak her a kiss goodnight. She missed helping mama make dinner. She missed family movie night. She missed their secret midnight snacks, usually sneaking chocolates into their mouths before heading back to bed. She missed doing ballet and gymnastics with her. She missed everything.

When Anya met Morgan, it helped a lot.

Morgan talked about how much she missed her dad, and it was very similar to how Anya felt. They bonded quickly, and even though they only saw each other every three months for the past year, the two were inseparable. Morgan asked her mom if she could FaceTime Anya, and Pepper would let her, hearing the two girls giggle through the phone.

The graveyard, as eerie as it may seem, was very pretty.

Clint parked the car nearest to the headstones they were looking for. They were close to each other, with no one in between, and a constant amount of flowers laying by their names. Fans would visit regularly, thanking the two for saving the dusted, but Clint and Pepper made sure their family would be the only visitors right now.

“You ready girls?”

They both looked scared, sad, and uneasy.

Pepper took off her seatbelt, turning back to face the girls, “Hey, there’s no need to be worried. Nothing scary is here, it’s just us. We’re going to talk to your daddy and your mom, read them your pretty cards, and then spend some time here with them. We will be with you the entire time, okay?”

Anya nodded, while Morgan answered, “Okay mommy. Let’s go.”

The adults got out of the car, unbuckled their daughters, and grabbed their hands.

Clint and Anya went to the right, while Pepper and Morgan went to the left.

Morgan ran right up to the headstone coated in Iron Man memorabilia, and sat crossed-legged in front of it. Pepper knelt down, before taking a seat on the grass next to her daughter, who immediately began talking and showing off her card.

Anya wasn’t as excited as Morgan; in fact she was extremely worried. But, Clint knelt down, gave her a big kiss on the cheek and touched her arrow pendant. “When mama got nervous, she would play with that arrow right there. It was a reminder that I was always there with her, even I wasn’t physically there. Now, it’s a symbol of both of us. Mama is always with you, including right now. Don’t be scared, baby, it’s just us, your family.”

Anya nodded and slowly walked over to the headstone decorated with flowers, cards, and small notes. It wasn’t nearly as covered as Tony’s, but it definitely had more heartfelt notes written for the woman who gave her life for all of the dusted. She sat down, much like Morgan, and fiddled with her bear.

“Привет, мама (Hello, Mama).”

Clint sat down next to his little girl, turning to the headstone, “Hey, sweetheart.”

Anya looked at the headstone, “Natasha…”

“Remember, that’s mama’s name,” Clint said, resting a hand on his daughter’s back. “N-A-T-A-S-H-A.”

“I like it.”

“Me too,” he smiled back at her, giving her a small kiss on her head.

“I made you this, Mama. I drew us, and wrote you a little note. You can read it later though. Papa checked my spelling.” Clint let out a little laugh; Anya placed the homemade card on the headstone.

Anya turned to her father, “Can I talk to mama alone for a second?”

Clint nodded, “Of course, pigeon.” He stood up and walked back to the car, leaning against it as he watched his little one. He peeked a glance over at Pepper and Morgan, who were giggling and snuggling as they talked to Tony’s headstone.

Anya continued to play with the bear in her hands, unsure of what to say, before her eyes welled with tears and she said, “I miss you. I miss you a lot, mama. I don’t know why you had to go. Papa said you saved me, and Kate, and a lot of other people, but I want you back...Is that bad?”

Anya wiped a tear from her cheek, “I don’t know what heaven is like, but I hope you have a place to dance and do gymnastics. And there’s lots of chocolate.” 

She paused, “Mama, I remember the poem you would tell me before bed; Papa helped me. My Russian isn’t as good, but I’ll say it to you. I hope it helps you feel better up there, like how it helped me feel better before bed. Oh yeah! Here’s my bear too, you can hold him while I do it, okay, mama?”

She placed the bear gently on the headstone, next to the card, “Самолёт построим сами (We build an airplane), Понесёмся над лесами (We'll soar above the forests), Понесёмся над лесами (We'll soar above the forests). А потом вернёмся к маме (And then we'll come back to mama).”

Anya placed a hand on the headstone, “I love you, mama. I hope I can see you soon.”

——

author’s note: wow i’m an asshole, but who doesn’t love angst? also, pepper/clint is a friendship i love a lot, okay? plus, morgan and anya would be polar opposites, but they definitely would be best friends. let me know your thoughts about this heartbreaking chapter that i’ll probably go to hell for, along with your head canons about clint and pepper or morgan and anya (or even the other avengers visiting anya bc that's so cute tbh)

[lagaudiiere]

russian classics aesthetic.    ( for Anya / Anastasia Romanova )

Brothers Karamazov.   orthodox monasteries. deep woods. starry nights. the sound of paper being torn. dimly lit rooms. withered roses. an unfinished letter. piles of books. the sound of shattering glass. ticking of clocks in a silent house. heavy wooden furniture. the air before a storm. the smell of earth. a crowd of people dressed in black. distant murmurs. emptied streets. the fear of walking alone in dusk.

Crime and Punishment.   coldness of the skin against a blade. slender pale fingers and slightly shaking hands. a red stain blooming on white fabric. lonely steps in a corridor. the slow dripping of water. looking out of the window into the thickening darkness. a single dying candle on the table. listening to one’s breath and counting heartbeats. too many stairs. the desire to be invisible. a subtle memory of kind words.

The Idiot. classical statues. wealth covered with dust. a dark house tainted with inherited madness. an unsettling feeling. long walks in a park. useless chatter. a silken ribbon forgotten on a bench. a melancholic face. an unexpected spring rain. the joy of reading one’s favorite book. the clarity of mind after fully perceiving the world around. looking at cloudless sky.  

Anna Karenina. fields of crops. flowers brought from an early morning walk. the wind caressing a girl’s hair. a bowl of fruit. the smell of ripe pears. the clatter of a spoon against porcelain when stirring tea. children’s laughter coming from the garden. soft sunlight and white curtains. the sensation of velvet against skin. pearls from a ripped necklace spilling on marble floor. a sudden silence in a room full of people.

War and Peace.   a glass of wine. the brightness of a crystal chandelier. white lace. a raging snow storm. the sound of a door being gently closed. the moment of holding one’s breath before walking in a ball room. indulging in looking at a beautiful earring against light. the sound of a saber being drawn. closing one’s eyes for a moment while dancing. the sweet smell of strawberries. a pair of gloves left on an armchair. light scent of powder.

The Master and Margarita.   the chaos of a lively city. ambient jazz in expensive restaurants. jumping on off a moving tram. the sight of Moscow from the roof of a house. yellow flowers in a vase. leaning out of the window. shelves stacked with books. a small tin box with old photographs. strange shapes in the night sky. laughing in the middle of the night on a balcony. colorful posters for a surreptitious magician’s show floating in the wind.

Eugene Onegin.   a lonely mansion. reading a book in the parlor. faint piano melody lingering in falling silence. long evenings. passing seasons. discussing french novels of the moment. unspoken thoughts. leaning against the door frame. quickly averted glance. eating a peach absent-minded. bright mornings. footprints in snow. a loud gunshot terrifying a flock of birds nearby.

A Hero of Our Time. byronic boredom. getting up late in the afternoon. the hidden unspeakable sadness of existence. shakespeare’s tragedy opened next to untouched breakfast. cigarette smoke. polished boots. walking with one’s coat wide open letting the night chill break through to the bone. carved wooden chair. fading warmth of the ashes late in the evening. the thought of farewell.

Fathers and Sons.   birch groves. morning mist. moss covered stones near a moor. scientific books. white roses. cheap champagne. shabby pocket-watch. light-hearted irony. a maladroit cello sonata. freshly mowed grass. leaving thoughts come and go. a slow yawn. picturesque plates and bowls filled with traditional dishes. drinking tea on the porch. longing for the future.

Doctor Zhivago.   a strange feeling of loss. writing poems in a diary. traveling by train. the hesitation before touching someone’s hand. the gaze of one lost in thought. the warmth of cinnamon. a scarf brightly embellished with flowers. a glass of water. two people listening each on the other side of the door. a threadbare jacket. the tempting void. the evanescent serenity of yesterday.

Dead Souls.   horses in a merry gallop. delicious smells mingled. grotesque and bizarre tragedy. luxurious attire cheap soul. masks. a perfumed love letter. the triumph of sarcasm. an unattached wheel rolling down a dusty road. the atmosphere of commedia dell’arte. puzzling speeches. a baffling caricature drawn on a handkerchief.

Cherry Orchard.   a lone chair in an empty room. falling blossoms. old samovar. the unsettling need for change. a mirror reflecting full moon. the disappointment of a glossy object turning worthless after second glance. a piano out of tune.

tagged by: I stole it bc I’m obsessed with russian literature & also this seemed perfect for Anya / Anastasia.

tagging: @russicnrat, @startasted, @moonhurts, @soulslast​, @hakune​, @lingeringscars, @loveisaviolence, @halvplans, @anyone who wants to do this please do!

[writethelifeyouwant]

Leningrad- Chapter 1

Life moves on and so should we. -Spencer Johnson

The pavement slipped by beneath his feet as he trudged towards the snow-dusted red awning on the busy New York street. Blaring snaps of hip-hop music faded in and out as cars pushed through the slush and mud coating the roads. It was bitterly, bitingly, cold but he was only marginally aware of the numb feeling creeping from the tip of his nose to the rest of his face until he turned under the awning and a stifling heat rushed through him.

Inside, the humidity that restaurants get when they're overcrowded during the winter engulfed the newcomer but he didn't make any moves to remove his winter clothes. After glancing towards the right corner of the room he pulled his scarf tighter around his face and hunched down in his coat, as if he was preparing to once more step out into the wind. Instead, he started moving purposefully through the restaurant, towards the lighted signs proclaiming the entrances to the restrooms and the kitchens, respectively.

As he passed the doors to the kitchen and turned down the hall to the men's room he observed that the cash station for the wait staff was currently occupied by two young women in ill-fitting white collared shirts. They were not who he was looking for. He ducked into the bathroom, checked that he was alone, and waited.

Through the crack between the door hinge and its frame he could hear the two waitresses complaining about the lack of tips their tables had been getting that day. He peered through the infinitesimal gap and saw them print their receipts and begin to retreat back towards the main dining room. Then, as he had hoped, he heard a faint greeting as they passed another waitress on her way to the cash station.

"Hi Anya."

"Hey guys."

Another waitress in the same unflattering uniform approached the cash station and began to enter the necessary information to run the customer's credit card. The man quietly exited the restroom and reached into his large fur-lined overcoat, pulling a small hand gun from an inside pocket. Angling his body so his back faced the entrance to the hall, he carefully placed the gun against the girl's waist.

"Anya," he spoke in a low, calmly controlled voice. "Will you please walk with me to that fire exit?”

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

“Oh, Penelope, this is exactly what we needed. Thank you,” Kate sighed as she snuggled down into her seaweed wrap.  

“Of course! My crime fighting beauties deserve their beauty rest. And I really needed some tension released.”

“Fight with Sam?” JJ asked sympathetically, taking a sip of her white wine.

“No, but it might turn into one soon if he doesn’t learn a few more facts about the female anatomy.” Penelope huffed.

“Ooh, that bad?” JJ asked.

“I don’t think I’m asking for anything out of the realm of possibility! Google can tell him plenty if he bothers to look.”

“And have you tried telling him any of these tips yourself?” Kate laughed.

“Not in… so many words,” Penelope’s face noticeably reddened in acknowledgement of her embarrassment. “But he seemed so confident going into…” she waved her hands randomly in front of her to fill in the words she didn’t want to say. “I don’t want to make him question everything else about his life he thinks he’s good at!” The girls giggled at Penelope’s flustered explanation.

“Pen, if you don’t want to die of sexual frustration you’re gonna have to tell him. I would think you taking charge wouldn’t be too out of the ordinary for him.” JJ wiggled her eyebrows at Penelope, taking another long drink of her wine. Penelope huffed in amusement.

“I had to have the same conversation with Chris when we started dating. He was only briefly mortified before he applied himself very enthusiastically to righting that wrong.” Kate shared, grabbing her own wine. “Totally worth it.”

The girls all giggled and continued to chat and sip at their drinks as they enjoyed the much needed relaxation, cocooned in their respective body treatment wraps. The bubbly atmosphere popped when three text tones rang out in near concurrence.

“Well, this was fun while it lasted,” JJ sighed.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Spencer walked into the conference room with his large mug of coffee and plopped himself into the swivel chair at the table, spinning a complete three-sixty before he settled his drink next to the file in front of him, pushing his curly hair back out of his eyes.

"Reid, man, you have got to get a haircut," Morgan laughed.

"Really?" Reid self-consciously ran his hands through his, admittedly unruly, hair again. "I kind of liked it like this…" His voice trailed off as he anxiously thought back to the last time he'd had an awful haircut and had caught some of the students at the academy laughing about it as he passed them on his way up to the lectern. No one had done that lately, he thought maybe he had rectified the situation.

"Don't listen to him Spence," JJ cut in. "I think it looks good like this."

"Seriously JJ?" Morgan scoffed good-naturedly. His ribbing tone made it obvious he wasn't taking the whole situation too seriously, he just wanted to wind Reid up.

"Oh yeah! Skinny guy, curly hair, forgot to shave; that look's hot right now." JJ and the team cracked up as Spencer blushed but also looked shyly pleased with himself.

"You said it sister," Garcia piped up as she hurried into the conference room with her unicorn mug and her personal clicking device. "Unfortunately, I am here to give you a look at something much less pretty. We have a missing girl."

Garcia positioned herself by the screen and brought up two photos of young, blue-eyed, mousy haired girls. They were severely unattractive license photos but Spencer could tell the girls would have been pretty under normal circumstances. The next pictures Garcia brought up were even more unattractive.

"Three weeks ago in the lovely but crime filled city of New York," Garcia started, "our girl on the left, Lina Mills, was found in her apartment, shot once execution-style in the back of the head. Police connected her murder to that of our first victim, Katerina Russo. She was found in her apartment about six months ago, same thing one shot to the back of the head." Garcia grimaced and quickly looked away from the very high definition photos of the girls staring into space with blood running down into their eyes.

Morgan was flicking through more of the crime scene pictures on his tablet while she was talking. "These girls weren't killed in their apartments, there's not enough blood."

"You're right," Rossi mused, "he has to have a secondary location where he kills them. But why bring them back to their own apartments? That seems unnecessarily risky."

"It's very risky," Reid added, "It looks like these girls were missing for at least a week before they were killed according to the police reports. There would have been enhanced surveillance around their homes but he still got their bodies back in without anyone stopping him.”

“Both girls also show evidence of torture and starvation according to the ME reports. That must be why he’s keeping them so long. It’s about the time he spends torturing them, not how he kills them.” Kate volunteered.

"Was there any evidence of sexual assault?" JJ asked mutedly as she scanned through the reports on her own tablet.

"No there wasn’t," Hotch answered as he strode into the room, simultaneously hanging up his cell phone. "I just got off with the NYPD confirming our invite in. They called us about this girl," he pointed at the screen as Garcia brought up a third picture of a young, pretty girl with light brown hair and blue eyes, just like the previous victims.

"Her name is Anya Hamlin, she's 18, just started at NYU. Her boss reported her missing when she disappeared half way through her waitressing shift this afternoon."

"How do they know this girl was taken by the same unsub?" Morgan put in.

"Anya and the last victim, Lina, took a few classes together at NYU. She was one of the girls they interviewed when Lina went missing.” Hotch grimaced.

"Okay so this guys is definitely working on a specific target list then, going after girls in the same group," Rossi spoke up. "Did they have any connection to the first victim?"

Garcia answered, "not that NYPD has found but I'm digging into it right now sir."

"Alright, well, keep us updated on the plane Garcia. Wheels up in 20 everyone.”

[almostafantasia]

Three’s a Crowd

What do you mean it isn’t Day 3 of Clexa Week anymore? Have this fic anyway - a twist on the ‘only one bed’ trope that actually involves zero beds!

Summary:  Clarke and Lexa, who are in the early stages of a secret relationship, go on a group camping trip and manage to end up sharing a tent. Unfortunately for them and their budding relationship, when there’s a fault with one of the other tents, they end up with an entirely unsuspecting third wheel lying between them.

Clexa Week 2019 - Day 3: ‘Only One Bed’

Read on AO3.

A tent should not be this hard to put together.

Before this camping trip, Lexa had been so certain that setting up a tent would be a skill embedded into her lesbian DNA, like building a set of shelves, or always being able to unscrew the lid on a jar.

Lexa couldn’t have been more wrong.

She lets out a frustrated huff as the tent pole she’s spent the better part of five minutes trying to wrangle into the right place springs free once more, causing the entire roof of the tiny blue tent to collapse until it resembles nothing more than a misshapen pile of canvas on the ground. Lexa is just about ready to donate the entire thing to the kindling for the campfire flickering in the centre of their little circle of half-constructed tents and sheepishly ask Bellamy if she can spend the night sleeping on the back seat of his truck instead.

“Need a hand?”

Lexa glances up only momentarily at Clarke, who wanders over from the campfire she helped Lincoln to ignite, before she wraps her hand resolutely around the offending pole and tries to force it once against into the right position.

“I’ve got this,” Lexa tells Clarke, though even as she says the words, the pole springs out of her grasp again.

“Of course you do.”

Lexa drags her eyes back up to Clarke, who seems to be finding extraordinary amusement in watching Lexa struggle with a tent, and glowers at her.

“I know you think you’re being scary and intimidating when you glare at me like that,” says Clarke, dropping down into a squatting position next to Lexa so that she can reach out and cup Lexa’s jaw, “but you’re just too pretty for it to work.”

Lexa continues to glare for a few moments, until Clarke’s thumb brushes tenderly across her cheek, and she softens under the touch and Clarke’s compliment. She turns her head ever so slightly, making to press her lips against Clarke’s hand, before she remembers that they’re in the middle of a very open campsite with most of their close friends lurking nearby, pulling her head away from Clarke’s hand at the last minute.

Lexa watches the disappointment flash across Clarke’s face, and has to look away in shame.

“Would it really be so bad if anybody saw?”

Lexa considers Clarke’s question carefully. They’ve discussed this a few times over the last few weeks, first deciding that they would keep it to themselves as they navigated the first few dates, not wanting to disrupt the wider friendship circle in which they both belong, in case things didn’t work out. More recently, it has been a case of waiting for the right moment to tell their friends that they’re dating. Lexa knows that they’re both ready to go public, but she wants to tell her friends, not let them find out by accidentally noticing them kissing in the middle of a campsite.

“Well, no,” admits Lexa. “But we agreed we’d wait until Octavia and Anya join us tomorrow and tell them all together.”

“I know,” concedes Clarke, nodding her head in acknowledgement. “Though I’m pretty sure they already know.”

“They do?”

“I mean, they invited us on a couples’ camping trip.”

“It’s not a coup-”

Lexa trails off as her eyes fall upon Bellamy and Echo, setting up their own two-person tent a few yards away, then turns her head to watch Raven pitching the tent she’ll be sharing with Anya from tomorrow. When Anya and Octavia arrive after their soccer game tomorrow morning, they will indeed be a party made up of four couples, even if Clarke and Lexa’s budding relationship hasn’t been officially made public to their friends yet.

“Shit,” mutters Lexa. “I guess it is a couples’ trip.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help you with the tent?” asks Clarke, gesturing to the abandoned pile of canvas and poles. “Because if we’ve got nothing to sleep in, I’m definitely snuggling up to Lincoln. Octavia says he’s like a space heater at night.”

Lexa feels a little beast of jealousy stir in her chest at the thought of Clarke cuddling with somebody else, despite knowing that Clarke and Lincoln will never be anything more than good friends.

“Fine,” concedes Lexa, beckoning Clarke closer. “I don’t know how you’re supposed to put one of these together on your own.”

With four hands, the tent gets set up in no time. Lexa wants to pout and whine about her defeat at the hands of an inanimate object, but she finds it hard to be in a sour mood with Clarke by her side.

As night starts to fall, their little group all congregates around the fire lit by Lincoln and Clarke earlier on. As Bellamy and Echo put themselves in charge of cooking dinner, Lexa sets up two camping chairs, relieved that it takes about five seconds to unfold them, rather than needing to ask for a second pair of hands to help. She takes a seat in one and is happy when Clarke drops into the second, draping a blanket across both their laps, allowing Lexa to fumble for Clarke’s hand and knot their fingers together out sight of their friends.

The disappearance of the sun behind the copse of trees on the edge of the campsite brings with it a cold night chill, as the sky that was so beautifully clear and sunny during the day provides no cloud cover to ward off the cold. When not even the dying flames of the campfire and the thick blankets they’re all wrapped up under are enough to keep them warm, the group very quickly bids each other goodnight and disperses into their separate tents.

“I hope you don’t mind me cuddling you for warmth,” says Lexa, bundled up in thick fleece pants and a hoodie, though a traitorous shiver forces her to climb beneath the pair of sleeping bags that she and Clarke have unzipped and laid out as blankets.

“Please, I was counting on it,” grins Clarke, as she takes a seat on the tent floor and wriggles her way under the covers.

Clarke takes the extra blanket that they used to keep them warm outside and drapes it over their bodies too, then shuffles closer to Lexa. One of her arms finds its way around Lexa’s back, pulling their bodies flush against each other.

“In fact,” whispers Clarke, their faces inches apart, “I can think of other ways to stay warm.”

Clarke’s hand dips lower, beneath the fabric of Lexa’s pants, and Lexa lets out a little yelp of surprise as Clarke’s cold hand comes into contact with the warm skin of her ass, palming the flesh suggestively.

“I’m not having sex with you in a tent,” hisses Lexa, shaking her head resolutely. “The walls are so thin that they’re made of canvas! The others will hear us.”

“Only because you can’t be quiet,” teases Clarke.

Clarke leans in for a kiss, which Lexa gladly accepts, and she lets herself get lost in the push and pull of Clarke’s lips for a few glorious seconds. Until Clarke’s other hand, the one not shamelessly groping Lexa’s butt, dips between Lexa’s legs and applies a certain pressure through the material of her pyjama pants.

Their lips break apart as Lexa’s lets out a gasp, and she indulges in Clarke’s touch for only a fraction of a second, before remembering where they are. Her fingers quickly wrap around Clarke’s wrist and drag her girlfriend’s hand away.

“Not here,” Lexa insists.

Clarke grumbles incoherently but keeps her hand away, withdrawing the other from the back of Lexa’s pants. Lexa presses her lips to Clarke’s again, drawing her into another kiss as an apology. Clarke kisses her back gently, her hand finding a much more chaste position on the back of Lexa’s head, with her fingers tangling into Lexa’s long hair. Her fingertips caress Lexa’s scalp, and Lexa can’t help but moan softly into Clarke’s waiting mouth.

“Shhh,” Clarke giggles against Lexa’s lips. “I thought you didn’t want anybody to hear us.”

“It’s not my fault,” whines Lexa, burying her face in Clarke’s neck. “It’s not like I want to make those sounds. You’re just too good at…”

A sharp crack of a twig snapping outside their tent cuts Lexa off mid-sentence. She lifts her head, peering at Clarke through the darkness to silently ask if she hears the noise too, but before she has time to say anything, the zip of their tent is drawn open with a rasp that penetrates the otherwise silent night.

Within half a second, Clarke has shot across the small tent, putting a foot between their previous entwines bodies, just in time for a familiar head to peer through the new opening to the outdoors.

“The zip on my tent is broken,” says Raven, apparently oblivious to the moment she’s just interrupted between the two girls. The rest of Raven’s body follows her head into the tent, and she turns to zip it back up behind her as she continues, “It’s freezing in there. I hope you don’t mind me joining you.”

Lexa opens her mouth to protest that actually, yes she does mind Raven showing up unannounced and interrupting her cuddles with Clarke, then closes it again as Raven throws her sleeping bag into the newly made gap between Clarke and Lexa before settling herself down there too.

“Can’t you share with Lincoln?” asks Clarke.

“Are you kidding?” snorts Raven. “And have to explain to Octavia when she arrives, that I spent the night spooning her boyfriend?”

Lexa glances at Clarke over Raven’s head and they share a glance, before quickly looking away before she betrays how she really feels about Raven sharing their tent for the night.

“But this is only a two-person tent,” Clarke tries to protest. “There won’t be room for three of us.”

“We can be close,” Raven dismisses Clarke’s complaint. “And it’ll help us stay warm. Lexa will be my little spoon, won’t you Lexa?”

Lexa glances at Clarke again, seeking out her permission. Clarke’s expression is displeased, but after a few long moments of consideration, Clarke shrugs and settles back down amongst the warm pile of sleeping bags and blankets.

“Of course,” Lexa tells Raven, rolling over so that her back is facing Raven. “But no funny business, okay.”

“Funny business from me?” replies Raven, as she settles under the covers and presses herself to Lexa’s back to share body heat. “It’s you two I need to watch out for. I’m the only one in this tent with a girlfriend!”

Somewhere behind her, Lexa hears Clarke snort. Raven doesn’t seem to notice the noise.

“Well, goodnight,” says Raven, her warm breath hitting the back of Lexa’s neck. “Sleep tight.”

It’s a long night.

At some point in the night, an arm finds its way across Lexa’s body. Lexa decides that it must belong to Raven at first, until she realises that Raven is snoring contentedly between her and Clarke. The fingers of the hand find Lexa’s and knit together, and Lexa knows that they belong to Clarke, her arm draped across Raven between them under the pretence of cuddling for warmth, so that a small part of her can still be close to Lexa despite the circumstances.

Lexa wakes with the sunlight. Raven’s body is still pressed into her own, with Clarke’s arm draped lossely across both of them. Lexa extracts herself carefully and wraps a blanket around her shoulder, then unzips the tent flap and steps outside, before closing the tent behind her.

Outside, the morning air is brisk and sends a fresh shiver through Lexa’s body, but the sky is light and bears a promise of a glorious day. With the blanket still draped across her shoulders, Lexa gets to work lighting the campfire again, carefully placing the pieces of firewood and igniting the kindling below. It takes several minutes for the flame to start flickering in earnest, but Lexa’s pride at the accomplishment following her failure with the tent yesterday, burns as strong within her chest as the fire in front of her.

“How long have you been awake?”

Lexa’s head snaps up when she hears Clarke’s voice behind her, and she smiles fondly as she sees Clarke’s sleep-tousled head emerge from the tent.

“Not long,” Lexa answers truthfully.

“I’m sorry about Raven,” says Clarke, traipsing over to Lexa and adjusting the blanket so that it covers both of their shoulders. Her arms winds its way around Lexa’s waist and Clarke presses her body into Lexa’s side as she continues, “I wanted it to be just the two of us.”

“I know you did,” laughs Lexa, recalling Clarke’s wandering hands just moments before Raven interrupted them. “But hopefully it was just one night. Anya gets here today - let’s hope she brings a spare tent.”

“I hope so too,” agrees Clarke. “I want you all to myself.”

Lexa wraps the blanket around them fully, trapping them both inside its soft warmth, and dips her head just enough to be able to press a kiss to Clarke’s lips. Clarke hums appreciatively and kisses Lexa back, bringing one hand out of their blanket cocoon to cup Lexa’s cheek.

“What the actual fuck?”

They break apart suddenly, each jumping backward so that the blanket falls to the grassy floor and there are several feet between them. Behind them, Raven’s tousled sticks out through the opening to the tent, mouth hanging open and eyes wide with incredulity.

“You two…?” starts Raven, still gaping between them. “You’re…? Since when?”

Lexa’s mouth is too dry for her to be able to answer, but thankfully Clarke steps in and says, “A few weeks. It’s still quite new.”

Raven continues to stare, then says dumbfoundedly, “You and Lexa?” Her faze flicks across to Lexa, and she adds, “You and Clarke?”

“It’s not that hard to understand,” shrugs Clarke, closing the gap between herself and Lexa again and taking Lexa’s hand in her own. “We really like each other.”

“Hang on,” says Raven, her face contorting into a thoughtful frown. “I’ve just spent the night sleeping between you.”

“Oh,” Lexa laughs and shakes her head in disbelief at the same time, “we’re very aware of that.”

A grimace crosses Raven’s face and a shudder wracks her body.

“Ugh, that’s so embarrassing.”

A phone goes off inside the tent and Raven disappears for a few second, before emerging once more with the ringing phone in her hand.

“It’s Anya,” she explains to Clarke and Lexa, as she lifts the phone to her ear. “Hey, babe! You’ll never guess who I just caught kissing.” Raven pauses expectantly, then a look of surprise flashes across her face. “How did you know it was Clarke and Lexa? What do you mean you figured it out a couple of weeks ago? And you didn’t think to tell me? I just spent the night sharing a tent with them and I had no idea!”

Lexa laughs softly under her breath as Raven continues to talk exasperatedly at Anya over the phone, and pulls Clarke in for the embrace that got so rudely interrupted moments earlier.

“I guess they all know,” she says to Clarke, as Clarke relaxes into her arms and rests her head on Lexa’s shoulder. “We’ve gone public.”

“We’ve gone public,” Lexa repeats back, a slow smile spreading across her face.

“That wasn��t so hard, was it?” asks Clarke, lifting her head so that she can look Lexa in the eye.

Lexa glances across at Raven, who is still talking rapidly into her phone.

“They spooned me, Anya! I was lying between them and they spooned me.”

Lexa sniggers to herself, and then says, “Not for us, at least. I think we might have traumatised Raven though!”

[a-russian-rose]

“Marie, who had been very ill and who now she feared was dying, was calling constantly for me. The servant who brought the note told me that Anastasia also was in a critical condition, lungs and ears being in a sad state of inflammation. Oxygen alone was keeping the children alive. Kotzebou was calling on me at the time, and as I sat up in bed wildly demanding to be dressed, he begged me not to leave my room. 'They are only waiting until you are well enough to be arrested,’ he assured me. But though I feared arrest I feared still more letting the child I loved die with one single wish unfulfilled, and as soon as I could be sufficiently clothed it was Kotzebou himself who wheeled my chair through the long corridors to the nurseries. It was the first time in weeks that I had seen the children and our meeting was full of tears. We wept in each other's arms and then without wasting any time I went on into Marie's room. The child indeed seemed to be at the point of death, but when she saw me the suffering in her eyes turned to something like joy. Her weak hands fluttered on the bedclothes and with a feeble cry, 'Anya, Anya,' she began to weep. Long I sat beside her holding her hot and wasted body in my arms, and when I left her she was asleep.”

I’m crying??? I’ve read this so many times and I still cry

[james-stark-the-writer]

A Year At The Opera - Excerpt 1

Chapter 1, Part 1: Svetlana.

Svetlana ran her hand across the mirror, wiping the condensation off.

She grabbed a towel from the towel rack and quickly wrapped it around her body. The steam in the room quickly condensed on the mirror again and Svetlana rubbed it off once more. She reached up to her hair, rolled up in curlers, and quickly snapped a few of them off, putting them beside the sink.

“Svetlana! Come on! Nu opozdaesh zhe!” Her mother, Anya, shouted from downstairs.

“I know, mother. I’m coming!” Svetlana shouted back. As if she didn’t know she was going to be late.

It was the first day of school, in a new city with new people. Svetlana was excited. She’d always been good at making friends. And she didn’t much like being an outsider, having been one for quite a few years in elementary school. But, she was sixteen now. Ready to fight and take on the world.

Or so she thought.

“Spuskaysya!” Anya’s voice echoed through the house.

“I’m coming!” Svetlana quickly dried off and changed into a red miniskirt and a plain black t-shirt. She removed the rest of the curlers and flung them on the bed. She ran her hand through her curly blond hair and grabbed a few books off the nightstand.

“God, Uvazhaemaya, eat your breakfast. Fast. You don’t want to be late and make a bad impression on your first day.” Anya said as Svetlana made her way down the stairs.

“I know, mom.” Svetlana took a seat at the table.

“But you have to get to get there early and get your schedule and find your classes. That takes time!” Anya slid a bowl of cornflakes and milk in Svetlana’s direction. The milk wobbled and spilled over but Svetlana grabbed the bowl.

“I know, mom.” She took a big bite of the cornflakes.

Her mother had cracked open the good kind of cornflakes today. Svetlana’s favorite, chocolate crunchfuls. It was the one of the first cereals she’d tried when she’d first come to America. And even today, after fifteen years, it still gave her that feeling of excitement and joy of being in a new country.

“Where’s papa?” Svetlana asked, slurping the milk.

“Don’t do that, devushka.” Anya scolded. “He’s already gone off to work.” Anya emerged from the kitchen with a wet towel and wiped off the milk from the tinted black glass. She scurried back into the kitchen.

“I’m done!” Svetlana announced, rising off her chair.

“Good.” Anya shouted from the kitchen. “Don’t forget your books!”

“I won’t!” Svetlana flung her bag on her shoulder and walked towards the front door.

“Mama, where’s the car keys?”

“Key hook!”

“Where’s the key hook?” Svetlana looked around her.

Anya ran out of the kitchen and turned around. She grabbed Svetlana’s car keys off the key hook on the wall next to the kitchen entrance and threw them at her.

Svetlana missed the keys and they hit the floor. “Thanks.” Svetlana said, exiting out the door as she picked up the keys.

Svetlana’s car was already parked outside the house. Thanks, papa.

The car wasn’t much to look at. It was almost seven years old at this point. The red paint had chipped off in multiple places, the mechanism to open the back windows was broken (but the front ones still worked) and the doors still locked. And that was about all Svetlana cared about.

Or so her parents thought. She’d been saving up some money for the past few years to buy a new car (even if it was second hand or even third). Anything was better than this. But she wasn’t shy or embarrassed to show up in the car. It didn’t matter much what people thought of her. As long as they kept it to themselves.

She opened the door and got in. She took a deep breath as she put her hands on the steering wheel.

Athea High, here I come.

************************************

Well, I'll just tag people anyway. @andiiwrites @writingwithteacups @strawberryspaceship @grimmwrites @hepiit @hell-yeah-fantasy @nobodywritesstuff @three-seas-writes

Edit: Thanks @hell-yeah-fantasy for help with the Russian.