#even if Curly didn’t run in we know it would’ve failed and everyone would’ve known

[dykedvonte]

Its really interesting that Jimmy’s chair is the one tilted away from the screen in this shot:

It’s indicative of how his and Jimmy’s dynamic was. He’s not staring ahead at the screen, he’s not paying attention to what they are doing. Curly is the only one looking forward. Jimmy quite literally couldn’t see the responsibility Curly had or was doing. Jimmy likely slacked off and avoided most of his duties. I mean the one time we know he pilots the Tulpar he steers it wrong and loses the team 4000 credits. Even in the positions they held objectively, Curly was always taking responsibility for Jimmy. Not to mention the “We can fix this” and only one chair at attention. Jimmy never had intentions to fix anything, throughout the game, throughout his entire relationship with Curly. Curly always fixed it? Why would it be any different here?

If he even took the slightest bit of responsibility, he would’ve stayed in the cockpit to see his plan through. In the end Curly did what Jimmy always expected him to do for him and took responsibility. Did what he always did and took responsibility at the wrong time…

[justlightlysedated]

Soulmate 51!!!

51. Your soulmate’s current thoughts about you will show up on your skin for a short while.

Miss you, miss you, miss you, appears across the back of his left hand, a light tingling sensation like someone was passing their finger across his skin announces their presence just as Michael picks up his beer.

A warmth fuzzy and soft, simmers in the pit of his stomach, and he bites down on the smile that wants to spread across his face.

Instead he drops the beer back on top of the table, and closes his eyes thinking, I miss you, so much more.

When he opens his eyes, feels a little shocked to see Maria sitting across from him.

It had been almost six months since their break up, and with all of the restrictions in place thanks to the quarantine, Michael hadn’t had to try very hard to avoid her.

He hadn’t even heard her truck come up, probably too distracted by Alex. It’s been a while since Michael has fully embraced their soulmate bond, and over the last couple of months he and Alex have been leaving more and more messages on each other, deliberately thinking them at each other.

After hearing Alex sing that song, he couldn’t exactly keep his thoughts to himself, and when he’d run out of the bar, feeling a weird sort of embarrassment at the fact that everyone could see his thoughts spread across the backs of Alex’s hands and up and around his neck, almost like a collar.

Alex hadn’t followed after him, but the words, me too had settled around Michael’s left wrist like a snug bracelet.

"Is there something I can help you with, DeLuca?" He asks, covering the back of his hand with his other hand, almost automatically, so used to keeping the words that had sporadically appeared on his skin while they were dating away from her.

She opens her mouth and then closes it, brow furrowing, and looking a little frustrated, like the conversation isn’t going the way she thought it would.

Michael takes in the way she keeps licking her lips, and her shifty eyes, and her fidgety fingers, and the fact that her leg is bouncing so much the buckle of her boot is hitting the metal legs of the chair. 

And then he tilts his head to the side and takes in her outfit, something that he might’ve noticed right off the bat several months ago. She’s wearing one of those short jumper things, that he’s pretty sure he’s heard Isobel call a romper, in a brown color that very nearly matches her own skin tone, the neckline plunges all the way down, exposing a line down the middle of her chest with a thick black belt around her waist. Her hair was left curly and messy, the way that it usually looked in the mornings before she showered and took a straightener to it, the way that Michael used to tell her that he liked it.

She’s not wearing a lot of makeup, but the fact that she is, along with everything else, paints the picture of why she’s here for Michael, and Michael can’t help feeling both incredulous and a little bit angry.

Before he can say anything, Maria pushes her shoulders back, making the slit in the romper widen as she looks at Michael from beneath heavy lids.

"How've you been?" She asks instead of getting to the point. "It's been a while."

And the way she says the last sentence erases any doubts that Michael had in his head.

Maria was here not as an ex who was once a friend to check up on him, but as an ex who wants to keep reaping from the benefits of their failed relationship.

Michael hadn't been lying to Maria when he told her that he loved her, and it had hurt so much when she'd told him that it was over.

But it had hurt even more when Alex had told him that he was leaving, and it was then that Michael realized that while he did love her, he loved Alex more, and in a way that was completely different.

If Maria left today, and didn't talk to him again, Michael would go on living his life, maybe a little sad for a while, but he'd get over it.

If Alex decided to never speak to him again, Michael wouldn't die, but it would feel like he was.

It was that easy and that simple. So it's easy and simple, to grab his beer and take a long swig and then speak.

"I'm doing fine," he says, voice clipped, trying to copy how Alex talks to strangers who won't leave him alone at the bar. "Things are rough, yeah, but that's the same everywhere these days."

"I hear that," Maria says, chuckling a little and then making a hand at his beer. "You're not gonna offer me one?"

"I would," Michael says, taking the last swing of his beer. "If the beer was what you were here for."

Maria raises both eyebrows at that, almost like she hadn't expected to be caught out so soon, or like she'd been expecting for Michael to play along with her.

She tries to pull an innocent face at him, and then sighs, leaning back in her chair, and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Fine, you want the truth? The truth is that it's been months and I am a girl with a healthy sex appetite, okay? And my choices were either going to a super spreader event, the two numbers on my phone that I would consider only under dire circumstances, or someone who wouldn't mind having sex with an ex."

She says the last choice, voice a little breathy and gives him a pointed look that would've worked on him months ago, but it barely makes a flame flicker now.

"When did I ever give you the impression that I wouldn't mind having sex with an ex?" Michael asks, honestly interested in the answer.

Maria gives him an incredulous look back, as though the answer should be obvious, and it hits him almost like a ton of  bricks to the solar plexus.

"You're talking about Alex?" He asks, feeling even more incredulous.

"Obviously," she says, and then clears her throat, batting her eyelashes. "I know it's technically not the same thing, but I know you still had feelings for me when we broke up, and breaking up didn't just make my feelings disappear, so I was hoping you wouldn't mind, giving me a helping hand."

"DeLuca," Michael says, trying to sound earnest and kind. "I'm flattered. Really. But the answer is no."

Maria blinks at him a few times like he'd pulled a rabbit out of his hat, "Are you serious?"

She gives him a look like he would be an idiot to reject what she's offering, and there is a small part of him that is yelling at him to take the offer, because sex is sex, but he doesn't listen to that part because there is an even bigger part reminding him that Alex is coming back and that things will be different when he gets here.

"Yeah," Michael says, looking at her evenly.

Her eyes fall away from his face, just as he feels a tingling sensation across his forearm.

Michael lifts his arm to see the words as they appear.

Not possible.

Michael sees her noticing the words that must appear, and her eyebrows almost shoot off her face in her clear surprise.

"So that's why?" She says, sounding like she just figured something out. "You found your soulmate."

"I've known who my soulmate's been for a while now, DeLuca," he says. "Knowing that it was him didn't make it any easier for us to be together."

Maria frowns, "Your soulmate is a guy. But I thought that Alex was the only guy you've ever been interested in."

She says it with conviction like in the months that they dated they talked about their exes, but she never asked, and Michael never brought it up.

"I'm not straight with an Alex exception," Michael says, and he can't help the sneer when she fixes him with an incredulous look. "I'm bisexual, and I've been sexually attracted to and sexually involved with plenty of more men than just Alex."

Maria makes a face at that, like she doesn't understand, but Michael isn't a sex ed teacher, and he's not going to pull up charts and explain to her what she doesn't understand.

"What about Alex?" She asks, looking angrier by the second. "You're going to break his heart with this whole soulmate thing."

"Like you didn't come here with the intention of breaking his heart by propositioning me," Michael retorts.

Maria colors slightly, but doesn't back down.

She opens her mouth to keep speaking, probably to defend herself, but Michael shakes his head a little.

"Listen, Alex has nothing to worry about because he has a direct line to my thoughts about him at all times."

He gives her a pointed look and it still takes her a moment to realize it.

"Alex is your soulmate," she says, sounding both shocked and defeated.

"Yep," Michael says, popping the p, and wishing he still had another beer out here.

"How long have you known?"

"Since we were seventeen," he says and she makes a rude noise at the back of her throat.

She stares at him for a moment, stupefied and angry, "This was never going to actually work between us, huh?"

Michael just licks his lips, and gives her a helpless look, "Some things just aren't meant to be."

She nods her head sharply at that and then gets to her feet.

"Sorry, for bothering you, it won't happen again," she says and then turns to leave before Michael can say anything.

And then turns back around, "And please, don't tell anyone I was here. Me knowing that I fell low enough to do this is more than enough."

And then turns and actually makes it to her truck this time.

Michael lets the icy hurt that spreads across his chest at her parting words slide away.

Instead he looks back down at the words fading on his arm, and lets the warmth of knowing Alex is somewhere else thinking about him and missing Michael as much as Michael misses him, fill him up, chasing the rest of the chill away.

[lacontroller1991]

Jealous Much? (Negan x OFC)

Requested by @negans-attagirl​ :After his imprisonment at Alexandria, he is free and alone until he meets OC (in her twenties) and actually saves him from a herd/ he starts to follow her, being a sassy daddy as always and flirts with her but she resists a long time. They meet another survivor (More in oc age) and negan gets jealous and mad. They get lead into an ambush by the new guy, are able to escape and maybe in the heat of the moment the smut happens.

Warnings: Smut 18+ oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, cream pie, language

Author’s note: I am so sorry it’s super conversation heavy but I promise the smut won't be 😊

@negans-attagirl​ @not-too-tall-for-trick​

Jess could hear them before she saw them, their groans echoing through the forrest. Climbing up a tree, she looked through the herd, seeing what could’ve gotten them riled up. Raising her binoculars up to her face, she saw a man in the middle, bashing walker’s heads with a metal pipe, although he was getting quickly outnumbered.

“Shit,” she whispered to herself, jumping down from the tree and rushing to the guy’s aid. Drawing out her sword, she was quick to live the walkers’ heads, blood splattering against her face. The guy looked at her for a split second before returning to kill them. After the herd was dead, Jess looked at the guy.

“Hell were you thinking?” She asked, panting and wiping the blood from her blade.

“That’s no way to talk to a stranger,” he replied, “the name’s Negan.”

“The name’s I don’t care,” she spat out, walking away and leaving him alone.

“Hey! What are you doing out here?” Negan asked, tailing Jess.

“Survivin’.”

“By yourself? Surely there's a man with you,” he stated but was immediately pushed against a tree with a blade to his throat.

“I don't need a man,” pulling away the knife, Jess stared into his eyes.

“I don't have no where to go.”

“Not my problem.”

“Can I stay here with you? I can help out with whatever you need,” Negan begged as she pulled her brown hair back.

“What I need is for you to leave me alone.”

“Come on babe, don’t be like.”

“I’m not your babe.”

“But you could be,” and truth be told, Jess wasn't completely opposed to the idea. It's been a while since she’s seen a human, and even longer since she’s had physical touch, but she knew. Everyone dies.

“Fine, but I live in the woods,” she mentioned as he nodded following her closely.

“You know, you remind me of someone.”

“Who?”

“Guy name Daryl. Quiet, tempered, doesn’t take bullshit.”

“Crossbow guy?” Jess asked as Negan nodded.

“Yeah, he's an asshole,” he chuckled as she smirked.

“I know. Was with them back in Atlanta, they were too chaotic.”

“That they are. ‘Specially Rick. Made my life a living hell.”

“They have good intentions, just wrong way of going about it.”

“Very wrong, cost me my life,” he replied as she nodded her head, eyeing a deer. Shushing Negan, Jess slowly crept up to the deer, aiming her bow and releasing an arrow, killing the deer.

“Wanna skin it?” She asked him as he shook his head. Shrugging, she plunger her knife into the deer, spilling out its guts.

“That’s disgusting as shit,” he stated as she let out a chuckle before looking up at him.

“Never done this?”

“I had people for it,” looking down at her, he noticed a small smile that radiated her face.

“Well, it’s dinner for the next couple of days.”

She hated to admit it, but Negan had actually grown on her, never failing to make her smile. She had to constantly remind herself that she could not get attached to him. Not now. As they were walking around, staying out of sight, their attention was quickly grabbed by a cry for help. Jess was quick to rush to the aid until an arm held her back.

“We don't know who that pussy is,” he spoke softly as she looked at him and smacked his arm, “what?”

“I seem to recall saving your ass.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t screaming like a pansy,” she chuckled before running to help the person. Slicing through walkers, she looked down at the guy who seemed to be her age. He had a strong jawline with curly brown hair and green eyes. Offering him a hand, she pulled him up as she dusted himself off.

“Thanks, I could’ve sworn I was about to die,” he mentioned with a smile that Negan could see right through.

“You have a camp?” Negan asked before Jess could say anything.

“I did, got over run by moaners,” he replied, Negan wasn’t buying it but Jess was.

“What's your name?” She asked softly as the guy gave her a smile.

“Jack,” he replied as Negan leaned over into her ear.

“Something isn’t sitting right with me,” he whispered as she shot him a glare.

“Nothing sits right with you.”

“You do,” winking at her, he pulled out a gun he found and pointed it at Jack.

“Woah buddy.”

“Negan!”

“We can’t trust him.”

“I trusted you,” she retorted as he sighed, lowering the gun but never taking his eyes off of the guy.

“He your dad?” Jack asked as Jess laughed, shaking her head.

“Nah, just a stray.”

“Ouch, that hurts,” Negan stated as looked between the two of them.

“Oh hush,” Jess directed at Negan before turning her head back to Jack, “how about you come with us? We have food and water.”

“I’d like that.”

As the weeks passed, Negan was growing antsy. Missing the way that she used to be his and only his, though never officially. He cringed whenever Jess and Jack would flirt with each other, giving each other small touches and lingering stares. What Negan didn’t know was that Jess was just trying to make Negan jealous. He made her feel things she never thought she would feel again in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. For all she knew, it wasn’t working. But it was. She was coming back from a hunt with Jack when Negan pulled her to the side, glaring down at Jack before he got the hint and scurried off to leave the two of them to talk.

“What are you doing?” She asked harshly as he gave her a disappointed look.

“Jess, I get that you’re trying to help this asshole, but doesn’t something feel off to you?” He reasoned with her while she pondered in thought, trying to think of all the times her and Jack had talked.

“Are you jealous, Negan?” She questioned with a smirk as he groaned and shook his head.

“No, something isn’t right.”

“You’re just paranoid,” she stated as he stared at her.

“You’re not listening to me. He’s dangerous, I know his type.”

“Get over it, he’s staying.”

“Whatever, I need to take a walk,” he mentioned, throwing his hands up in the air as he walked away from camp. She didn’t notice that Jack had snuck up from behind her until he spoke.

“Everything okay?” He asked as she shook her head.

“He’s just being difficult. He’s normally not like this.”

“Come with me, I know a place to clear your head,” Jack replied as she looked at him with concern.

“I don’t know, we need to skin these rabbits before they go bad.”

“Come one, it’ll be fun!” He begged as she let out a smile before agreeing, allowing him to lead her deep into the woods.

It was not fun. Her head pounded as blood flowed down her temple, looking around the underground cell, trying to find an escape. After finding none, she kicked the mattress that they had supplied for her.

“Fuck,” she shouted out in frustration before sinking to the floor, running her hands through her hair. She didn’t remember anything after Jack had led her into the woods and knocked her out. She had no clue where she was nor how she got there. One thing she did know for sure. Negan was right. Slowly, she let her eyes drift close, falling into a dreamless sleep.

She was awoken by the cell door opening. Expecting it to be Jack or one of his companions, she immediately cowered away from the door but a pair of arms wrapped around her in comfort.

“Negan?” She asked, voice cracking from being dehydrated and tired.

“Let’s get you outta here baby doll,” he whispered, picking her up in his arms and carrying her out of the cell.

“How are we gonna get out?”

“I killed them. Once I figured out what happened, I tracked you to here and killed them. They’ll probably be turning any minute now so we gotta move.”

“You were right,” he looked down at her and moved a strand of hair out of her face before kissing her temple.

“It's okay, let’s just go.” Running through the woods with you in his arms, he looked around to make sure no walkers were following them before setting you down in a cave that he had found while tracking you. It would have to do for the night. Removing his jacket, he immediately wrapped it around her as she shook from shock and the cold. 

The air was tense around the pair, Negan desperately wanting to brag about being right and Jess in shame for not listening to him.

“How did you know about him?” She asked cautiously as he handed her a canteen.

“It takes one to know one. I’ve seen many people like him so I just figured, plus he’s strong, if he couldn’t take care of 10 walkers by himself then something must’ve been up.”

“I should’ve listened. I’m sorry,” shuffling closer to him, she leaned her head on his shoulder as he let out a sigh.

“Don’t be. You didn't know,” he commented, wrapping his arm around her smaller frame, pulling her in closer for heat. She looked up at him with a small smile before placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

“Thank you.”

“Well shit, if I had known saving a pretty thing like yourself would’ve gotten me a kiss, I would do it a thousand times over,” he stated as she let out a snort before shrugging his jacket and arm off, straddling his lap, her face being illuminated by the soft glow of the fire place.

“I was flirting with him to make you jealous,” admitting to her little secret, he looked up at her with a smile.

“It worked.” Crashing his lips to hers, his arms immediately wrapped around her waist as she deepened the kiss, placing her hands on his cheeks, running her hands through his stubble. Pulling away, they gasped for air while Jess’s hands moved to her shirt. Tugging at the hem, she quickly pulled the shirt over her head, leaving her in a bra.

“Are we doing this now? Because I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about this,” he whispered as she smiled down, reaching back to unclasp her bra. 

“Shut up and make me feel good,” she commanded as he gave a mock salute, turning them over and running kisses down her jawline and onto her chest, leaving open mouthed kisses along her breasts. She arched her back into his touch, needing to feel more, and judging by the growing bulge in his pants, she knew he needed more too. Moving his mouth to her nipple, he swirled the bud around his mouth as she released a moan, clutching her hands in his hair, tugging at the slightly greying strands that reached the back of his neck. He moved off of her before trailing kisses down to her waistband and looked up at her. With a nod in confirmation, her skin shivered with anticipation as he undid the buckle and button. Pulling down her pants, he took a moment to admire the view of her panties soaked with her arousal.

“All that for me baby?”

“Negan, please,” she moaned as he smirked, removing the pants before placing a kiss on her covered clit. He groaned when he could taste her wetness through her underwear. Moving her underwear to the side, he laid his tongue flat against her folds as she gasped out loudly. Moving his tongue up and down, he collected her wetness before stopping and removing her panties. Going back down, he placed his mouth on her clit and began sucking on the bundle of nerves, swirling it around his tongue as he entered a finger inside of her, causing her to start panting heavily.

Adding another finger, he began pumping them in and out, fingers wet with her juices. Curling them inside of her, he continue to lap up her clit as her hands found their way back to his hair, messing up his neat hairdo, not that he minded. Groaning against her, he could feel the ache in his pants getting more painful with all of her sounds he was eliciting. Suddenly, he blew on her clit and flicked it with his other hand and he could tell she was getting close by the way her walls were starting to constrict around his fingers.

“Cum for me baby,” he commanded, pulling at her sensitive spot before she let out a shout and came over his hand. Coaxing her through it, he saw her smile down at him, a thin layer of sweat forming against her body. Pulling his fingers out, he licked them, letting out a moan before moving down to his tent and rubbed his dick, trying to release some pressure.

“Oh God, Negan. I need you.”

“Say less,” he chuckled, moving his hands to unbutton his pants and pushing them down. Grabbing her hips, he moved her up to his lap, rubbing his dick against her wet folds.

“You ready?” Nodding her head, he gently pushed his tip in, both of them groaning at the sensation before he pushed in farther, giving her some time to adjust to his size.

“You can move,” she stated, relishing in the feeling of him completely filling her out, causing her walls to stretch around him. He pulled out before slamming back into her as she moaned, moving up so that she was now on top of him. 

“God baby, you’re sexy as fuck,” he groaned out as he clutched her hips in his hands, pushing her down onto him. She clutched onto his shoulders as he thrusted up into her. He watched the way her boobs bounced with each thrust and with each thrust he was getting closer as was she. Moving her off of him, he laid her down and wrapped her left on his waist while the other went on his shoulder, allowing him a different access angle that had them both panting messes. Pivoting his hips, he thrusted back in, hitting her g-spot. 

“Harder,” it was barely a whisper but it was loud enough for him to hear as he continued snapping his hips against hers, creating a friction against her clit. Reaching down, her hand gently touched her clit and rubbed it harshly, trying to reach her orgasm. 

“Negan, I’m close,” he understood those words perfectly clear as his thrusts became more erratic, trying to help her reach her high. Her eyes closed in bliss as her walls clamped down on his cock, coming over it. His hands went to her breasts and grabbed them, not slowing down as he was near the end. 

“Cum inside of me.”

“Ya sure babydoll?”

“Oh my God, yes, please, yes.” Pumping into her a few more times he released his load with a loud groan. He looked down and saw his cum to start dripping out of her. He swore he could come again at the sight. Pulling out of her, he continued to watch the way her pussy pulsed out his cum before collapsing next to her and taking her hand in his, gently kissing her knuckles.

“That was fun,” she commented, trying to catch her breath as he looked over at her.

“Much needed and waited.”

“Tell me Negan, have you thought about fucking me this whole time?”

“Every fucking night,” he admitted, thinking back to all of the nights he had to sneak off to relieve himself. 

“Good, because this is not done.”

“Wouldn’t count on it baby girl.”

Author’s Note: AHHH. HOPE YOU ENJOYED

[autistic-singer515]

The ending of the Pinky and the Brain quarantine episode before the Julia Surprise ending Redone.

Since I’m already vaccinated, I wanted to redo my previous comic. So here’s my previous fan comic of the opening scene I want in the Animaniacs reboot I’ve redone about everyone having a world lockdown due to the fake piggy flu. It was all set up by Pinky and the Brain to make everyone in the world obey them. But mostly the Brain. He gave people two doses of the piggy flu vaccine to make it 100% effective against the virus.

The side effect? Obeying the Brain at every command!

But Pinky added an antidote into the serum when the Brain wasn’t looking because he thought the first dose of the vaccine wasn’t working. It causes him and the people to break out of the mind control. The people realized that the piggy flu scare was a fake. Nobody got sick when they got outside. Needless to say the people weren’t happy. They thought Pinky put the antidote into the serum by accident and was still angry with him for faking his own death.

Then it would cut to Julia watching over them on her game boy in anger.

Transcript:

In the suburban house, the restless father tried to unlock the front door to see if they could go outside now. But it was still locked because of the Brain’s auto lock in every house. He realized that he and his daughter couldn’t go outside and play yet.

The Father: “Oh, great! It’s still locked!”

The daughter cried out of frustration.

The Daughter: “But I wanna go outside now!”

She tugged her fathers hems of his house coat.

The Daughter: “Daddy! I wanna go outside and play now!”

The father sighed disappointedly as he sat down on the couch.

The Father: “Sorry, sweetheart. I’m afraid we still have to stay inside until the piggy flu pandemic subsides. Professional Doctor Brain says so. And we’re due to a second shot.”

The Daughter stomped her feet angrily.

The Daughter: “But I hate needles!”

The Daughter jumped up and down and grabbed her fathers hair.

The Daughter: “I wanna get out! Daddy! We can’t stay here forever! I wanna get out! This is so dull! I’m bored out of my skull!”

The Father rolled his eyes disapprovingly, knowing he and his wife had to stick with his daughters constant whining until the pandemic is over.

The Father: “Help me.......”

What were they going to do now?

Then suddenly their wide TV screen turned on automatically.

The Brain’s usual stoic face showed up on screen. He wore a tuxedo with a tie and some black shoes.

The Brain: “ This is Doctor Brain speaking!”

The Father, daughter and mother both watched the TV with anticipation.

We’re they allowed to go outside now?

But the Brain looked very serious looking.

The situation must be more serious than ever!

The Brain: “Dear people of the world...... It is with great sadness that my partner Pinkfert has died from the piggy flu today. He fought very valiantly. But alas the flu won. He was a sweet but stupid frie-! Associate! We’ve been working together for over 20 years. We’ve both tried to get, but failed world domination. But now I’ve succeeded! But Pinkfert sadly didn’t. But he told me to move on with my dreams of becoming a doctor.”

But the Brain didn’t tear up for his partner. He remained stoic and brave.

The suburban family got teary eyes seeing the news. Even the daughter.

The Mother: “Poor Pinkfert.....”

The Father: “So sorry for your loss....”

The Daughter: “That’s so sad.....”

The Brain picked up the needle with green liquid in it.

The Brain: “To commemorate my partner..... You will stay home unless you will swear fealty to me. And I will sanitize the world and when you’re all safe to go out again, you will worship me as your leader!! But if you go outside now..... You will end up like Pinkfert. So just wait a little longer. Keep grocery shopping online until I give everyone their second piggy flu shot to block out the virus 100 % guaranteed! And you will all be safe! We must not cry or get scared despite this horrible pandemic! We must be strong! For Pinkfert! Showing weakness will not save us! We must fight!

The family: “Yes Doctor Brain!”

But Pinky who was swirly eyed was lying in the hospital bed with his red curly wig on his head and he wore a green patient scrub. But then his eyes turned back to normal as he heard the Brain talking.

Pinky got teary eyed.

Pinky: “Pinkfert is dead?.... Oh no.....”

The Brain: “Yes!! I am the Brain! Your world’s greatest dictator and hero! I am not sad or afraid! I am proud and mighty!”

Everyone who saw the Brain on tv were impressed by his bravery. They couldn’t wait to get their second shot. They had to be brave for Pinkfert too.

Then later on, they all got their second shot at their own homes. Then their eyes began to swirl as they felt lightheaded. They knew they had to obey Brain now. He is the leader. There is no turning back.

The suburban family got teary eyed for Pinkfert as their eyes swirled as they faced the television screen at the Brain.

The Brain smiled at everything. Including his brainwashed human servants who stood there with their cameras. He knew the mind control serum will grow 100% powerful after the 65% powerful first dose and there would be nothing to get rid of the mind control serum’s effects.

The Brain: “Are you ready to obey me? And save everyone?”

The brainwashed suburban family: Yes! Please save us, Doctor Brain! You are our only hope for humanity! Save us!”

The brainwashed Father was mesmerized by the Brain’s stoic brave face. How he wished he was like him.

The Father: “Wow! That little guy is so brave and strong despite the piggy flu fiasco! I wish I was that strong like him! No weakness in sight! He never whines about stuff! Yes! We must not show weaknesses! We have to serve him and fight for survival!”

The Brain smiled much wider and much more devilishly than normal.

The Brain: “Yes..... At long last.... World domination is finally coming to fruition! The second dose of the 5G serum will make the mind control permanent! Once I inject the mind control serum into their bodies the second round, they won’t be able to resist me! They will forever sing my praises! Nobody can stop me now! Yes! Nobody!”

His human slaves: “Must obey Brain!”

The Brain chuckled maliciously as he turned away from the camera. And then his chuckles turned into a loud evil laugh. He curled his fingers while doing that.

The suburban Father looked at him curiously despite being brainwashed.

The Father: “Ummm.... Doctor Brain? Why are you laughing like an evil mastermind for no reason?”

The Brain stopped laughing and gave him an awkward, confused and shocked look.

Surely they are still brainwashed, right?

So the Brain turned around to face his human slaves on the screen. He had to come up with a lie to keep his slaves from getting too suspicious towards him and to keep his mind control serum working forever.

The Brain: “It’s a.... (Fake coughs)! Just a cough! As I was saying, you will stay home un-!”

Then Pinky popped up at the screen and started crying his eyes out, blocking the Brain out of the way.

Pinky: “BWWWWWAAAAAAA! POOR PINKFERT!!!!!!....... I’ve never got the chance to see him!......”

Pinky blew his nose on his handkerchief.

The Brain tried to get Pinky out of the way by pushing him, but Pinky remained on the screen by crying and pushing back.

The Brain: “Pinky, you idiot! No! Stop! What are you doing?!”

Pinky: “I wish I would’ve met him sooner!.... BWWWWWWAAAAAAAA!!!!!!”

Then people watched Pinky and the Brain with suspicion.

Pinkfert? He’s alive?

It causes the mind control serum to wear out of their systems.

“Wha?”

We’re they lying to them all along?

The Brain watched everyone resisting his mind control. He was beyond confused and angry. He stared at the nervous Pinky.

The Brain: “They resisted?! But how?!”

The people got even more suspicious at the Brain and Pinky as they heard this....

The Brain: “That could mean one thing! Some blithering idiot must’ve added the antidote in the second dose! PINKY!”

Pinky gulped nervously.

People looked around themselves. They didn’t get sick when they were outside and were together. Then they turned to Pinky and the Brain. They grew angry and betrayed. They’ve been lied to. They’ve nearly been robbed of their freedom thanks to the Brain. Pinkfert was Pinky all along.

The Brain noticed this and pushed down Pinky out of the screen. The wig came off of Pinky’s head. The Brain smiled at everyone nervously.

The Brain: “Oh! Um.... (laughs nervously)! You see.... it’s Pinkferts twin brother, Pinky! It’s all a big misunderstanding, everyone!”

Crowd #1: “LAIR!!!! THERE’S NO PIGGY FLU?”

Crowd #2: “Mind control?! Seriously dude?!”

The suburban family growled at the Brain on the screen.

Crowd #3: “You locked us in against our will just so you could control us!”

Crowd #4 “We didn’t get sick! Nobody did!”

Crowd #5: “I should’ve known!”

Crowd #6: Let’s get them!”

Crowd #7: “Yeah!”

The crowd angrily walked towards Pinky and the Brain. Pinky and the Brain shook in fear.

Pinky took a lollipop out of his pocket to try to offer them one.

Pinky: “W...W... Wanna lollipop?....

Pinky and the Brain both gulped nervously. Then they ran for their lives.

The Brain: “Run Pinky!”

They ran and ran and ran in the city and the Warner movie lot. Then they spotted Acme Labs. So they hid behind there when the people weren’t looking. The Brain took off his tuxedo as he watched the oblivious mob run the opposite direction. Then the mob were gone for good.

The Brain and Pinky felt relieved that they’re gone.

The Brain: “Good! They’re gone!”

Then the Brain remembered Pinky screwing up his plans again. His anger grew intense. He turned to Pinky furiously. He bared his teeth. His angry eyes became bloodshot.

Pinky jumped in fright at the sight.

The Brain: “PINKY!!!!! COME HERE!!!!!”

Pinky already took off his scrubs and threw it away nervously. He shook in fear again.

Pinky: “I’m sorry, Brain! I couldn’t help it! You see, I put the antidote into the second dose because the first dose wasn’t working! And losing Pinkfert is so sad that I cried!”

The Brain growled and shook his hands like a maniac. He slowly walked towards Pinky in anger. Pinky yelped in fear.

The Brain jumped and bumped Pinky on the head.

The Brain: “Pinky, you imbecile! You ruined my plan yet again!”

Pinky felt dizzy and injured from the hit.

Pinky: “Sorry, Brain....”

[beccarooni]

Space Bros

(A.N: my first asgardians of the galaxy fic! Took me a while, sorry about the wait. This is mostly inspired by that thing about Chris Pratt being able to braid hair. Thanks to @woahthisguy for helping me out with dialogue!)

“No, one of us has to do something. This has gone too far already.“ 

"I don’t see what the problem is. The Angel-God should be able to wear what he likes.”

“Drax, you haven’t worn a shirt in…any of the time I’ve known you. Forgive me if I don’t take your sense of style too seriously.”

“For someone who can’t even reach the table, you-”

Quill leaned against the doorway, watching as the ‘friendly debate’ between Drax and Rocket once again got out of hand. That seemed to be happening a lot recently. Well, he supposed they’d always been a bit like that. And that was what he liked about them, really. Sure, the Avengers were great and all, but they were just so…serious. Serious about their friendships, their battle plans - it was all a bit of a bummer to witness. Which was partly the reason why he’d been so opposed to having Thor join them in the first place. When they’d first met him, he’d been a serious mood killer. Tall, dark, handsome, and an all round axe-wielding angst machine that made his team go crazy. 

And then the blip happened, and suddenly that guy was gone. To where, Quill didn’t exactly know. All he did understand was that somewhere between then and now, all of the anger and pain that Mantis had first witnessed had been shoved somewhere deep under the surface of the Asgardians skin. 

If he was being honest the whole ‘missing 5 years of his life’ thing was still freaking him out. He’d been dead for five years. Rocket had mourned for him, for the whole damn team, for five years. And then all of a sudden he was running out of a portal shooting weird space-creatures, and he was just supposed to deal with all that? 

Things were stressful, and all he’d really wanted to do was go to space, play his tapes, and pretend not to notice the way Rocket stared at them all- like he wasn’t sure if they were even real. 

But then Thor had asked to stay. He’d asked to come with them, just for a little while, and what was he supposed to do? Say no? 

He may have had his disagreements with Thor in the 20 minutes he’d known him, but that was the old Thor. The frankly kind of scary one. This one, with the longer hair and the wild beard and the laughter that seemed just a bit too close to crying - Quill could handle this one. He could understand him, tolerate him, maybe. 

And with their travels of course had come a bit of bonding, no matter how Quill had tried to prevent it. Thor was a likeable guy, with no shortage of crazy stories to tell. Granted, Quill had tuned out at first. Combat stories were all well and good, but when you’d fought a planet who happened to also be your dad, other things started to fall a little flat. 

But then, Thor had started talking about love. 

About a scientist with curly hair and brown eyes, and a giant with green skin and a crooked smile, and that had got Quill’s attention. He’d never been to Asgard - the Ravagers had scared him away from that golden fortress with tales of security systems that seemed straight out of Quill’s own personal nightmares - but even just listening to the man talk about love was like getting smacked in the face with a Shakespearean sonnet. 

Quill got that. He got love that was so intense it made your heart want to explode out of your chest. It was kind of devious, really. Thor had roped him into conversations and now dared to use his charm on him? To win him into a friendship? 

Disgusting. Illegal. Quill would’ve challenged him to a laser-gun based duel if Thor wasn’t the only person on the spaceship who would high five him no matter the occasion. 

But then the eventual day had come where Thor had decided to leave them. To go back home and check on New Asgard, and most importantly to see Bruce. Thor had said “For the first time in about 3 years!” With a sense of levity, and for the most part he’d been happy for him. 

And then Groot had asked what Thor was planning to wear for a 3 year space reunion. 

And then all hell had broken loose. 

All because Thor had gestured to a pair of sweatpants and a jumper and said the fateful words, “these are fine”. 

“Listen, I’ve met his Bruce, alright? Dude wears button up shirts and cardigans. That’s code for being a big green fancy man.” Rocket shook his head, clawing his way back onto the table to poke Drax in the chest.  “That means no sweatpants.”

“He’s a god!” Drax retorted, twirling a knife in hand which Quill was really hoping he wasn’t planning to use. “If I had a lover capable of tearing apart spaceships, I would bed him regardless of pants!”

“Oh my God, we get it Drax. You’re horny for Thor.”

Quill rolled his eyes, failing to hide the fond smile that was creeping over his face. Honestly - he’d truly picked some of the weirdest people in the galaxy to share his life with. 

But he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Maybe they’d never really admit to him being their captain, or see him as their leader. At least, not in the way the Avengers saw that dude in the spangly outfit. But maybe being the captain was more than that. 

Maybe being the captain was loving his team, as cheesy as it sounded, even with all their weirdness. 

Being the captain meant taking care of his crew. And with his eyes drifting away from the table, and down to the darkened hull of the ship, Quill began to suspect that there might be someone else that needed taking care of. 

He pushed away from the wall with perhaps a little more speed than he needed to (in all honesty it was more to avoid Drax’s next weird sex anecdote than with any urgency regarding their resident Thunder Dude, but no one else needed to know that), walking along the various rooms to get to Thor’s bunk. Prior to the asgardians arrival that room had been the designated 'Random Garbage’ room, and had become the largest victim of Rocket’s serious weapon-hoarding problem. It had taken a whole week, and several close calls regarding bomb explosions to clear the place out, and even longer to procure a bed suitable for someone who could summon lightning at will, and who was one bad dream away from conjuring a hurricane. 

He knocked on the door, casting his eyes over the Nordic runes that had been painted over it with a crooked grin. Thor had spent a decent amount of time teaching the guardians Asgardian, more specifically, Asgardian curse words. Not a mission went past now that wasn’t littered with words that would make the Allfather blush, and the not-so-subtle warning to 'Keep Out’ that was posted over Thor’s door was no exception. 

“Just a minute!” 

There was the sound of something smashing from behind the door, and the thud of footfalls followed until the metal panel was thrown open with a clang that made Quill wince - the Asgardian’s slightly flushed face staring back at him. 

“Oh, hello." 

Thor’s face brightened in something close to surprise, as if Quill was a neighbour who’d popped round for a quick chat. 

"Did you need something, Quill? I was just packing." 

"Thought you might need some help." 

He grinned back, peeking his head through the door at the chaos inside. Clothes were strewn over chairs and tables, random axes and swords piled precariously onto any surface that could handle them. And some that definitely couldn’t. 

"Ah, yes. That would be…appreciated." The Demigod clapped Quill on the shoulder in a brief show of thanks, guiding him forward into the war zone he’d created within the span of half an hour. 

"I must apologise for the mess. Had a bit of trouble trying to find clean clothes.”

“Yeah, join the club, pal.” He shook his head, nudging through a pile with his feet. “Spaceship living. Hard on the laundry, harder on the privacy." 

Thor chuckled from across the room, pacing about what little free floor remained as he watched Quill attempt to navigate through it. 

Now, Quill was no stranger to mess. His spaceship was frequently labeled as a blatant violation of any and all safety protocols that existed for rag-tag groups of space bandits (which, surprisingly, there were quite a few of). But something about this mess seemed…off. Clothes had been strewn about, not by laziness or necessity, but what looked like anger. And there were a few still sparking holes in the walls that were definitely made from fists. 

"You uh…” Quill rubbed at the back of his head, trying to think of the right words to say to get to the bottom of this. “You excited about going back?" 

"Hm?” Thor glanced up, brows furrowing as he mulled over the answer. “Well, of course. It’s been a while since I’ve seen everyone. It’ll be nice to catch up.”

“You’re not nervous?" 

"Nervous? Why would I be nervous?" 

Quill shrugged, lifting up a shirt that was still glowing red with embers before dropping it with a hissed curse. 

"Just seems like you’re a bit freaked out about it, is all. Which is understandable, I mean. I’d probably be freaked out too.”

“I’m not nervous.” Thor’s frown deepened considerably, a few stray sparks flying from his fingertips. “I’m…excited. Excited, happy, very happy to see them all again. Not nervous. That’d be stupid.”

“Not even about seeing Bruce?" 

A pause followed before Thor’s next answer, and for a moment Quill was worried he’d crossed a line. The dark shadow that crossed the demigods face was a sharp reminder of the Thor they’d first picked up all those years ago - the sad one, the furious one. The broken one. 

"I don’t -” Thor began, his voice breaking off into silence. He lifted a hand to his mouth, shutting his eyes briefly against what quill was sure were tears, allowing the tremor in his voice to settle before continuing. 

“I don’t know if I can face him like this, Quill.”

“Wait, like what?”

“Like this. This, all of this!”

Thor gestured to himself, his face set into a deep scowl as his hands clawed at his clothes, his hair - all with a ferocity that made Quill grimace in sympathy. 

He didn’t quite know how to handle this, and he was honestly a little nervous to even try. Petty arguments between friends, he could stand. Friendly touches and comforts were things that he could easily dispense, if he needed to. 

If Rocket was angry, he’d want to be left to cool off with a handful of machinery and some light music. If Mantis was sad, she’d want a hug, and something funny to make her laugh. If Gamora, or Drax, or Groot, or any one of his team members needed something, he knew what it was, and when to provide it. 

But Thor was new. Even after 2 years, he was new. 

He’d been about to open his mouth to offer him some privacy when Thor interrupted, his voice low and just so tired. 

“I only went to space to get better. I was supposed to be happy again, and I’m just…not. Coming back like this? Without changing anything about myself? It feels like I’ve failed him, and I promised myself I was done with failure." 

The clenched fists and hunched shoulders really weren’t giving Quill much to go on comfort-wise, but he was done with standing awkwardly at the sidelines. It was time to be the captain. 

Awkwardly stepping over the various piles of junk, Quill finally arrived at the demi-gods side, planting a firm hand onto his shoulder. 

"Look, I don’t know Bruce. Never met the guy, and I don’t fancy going back to earth anytime soon so I doubt I ever will. All I’ve got on him is what you’ve told me." 

And jesus, had he been told a lot. He thought back on it - on the descriptions of a smile that was rare but so, so bright. Of restless hands constantly moving from experiment to experiment, yet still always managed to find time to hold Thor when he needed it. Of someone who seemed delicate, but really was as tough as they came, who’d been through so much in such a short time but still dedicated every minute of his life to helping others. 

Thor had painted a picture of a scientist, and a giant, who loved with as much fire and splendor as a collapsing star. 

Quill smiled softly, tightening his hold in what he hoped was a comforting squeeze, but honestly Thor���s skin could take a bullet and barely even bruise so he wasn’t sure if he’d even felt it. 

"The only way you’d be failing him is if you didn’t come back at all.”

Thor sniffed, and Quill’s brain was screaming at him for a solid 5 second interval that ’you just made the God of Thunder cry, Quill. What the hell is wrong with you, Quill. You walk in to help him clear up his room and within the span of 5 minutes he’s started sobbing and you’re considering throwing yourself out of the airlock, Quill.’

But then he caught a small smile, shaky and ever so slightly water-logged, but present, and he allowed himself to breathe. 

Thor straightened his back, wiping at the sides of his eyes and trying his very best to drown out the crying with a Manly Cough. 

It didn’t really work, but Quill had enough sense in his brain to ignore that part, and forge forward with his role as emotional support captain. 

“But, I think the rest of the team would kill me if I let you go out without sprucing up your image a little bit.”

Thor raised an eyebrow, folding his arms protectively across his chest. "Did you have something in mind?“ 

"Well…" 

**

20 minutes later, Quill was perched on the edge of the bed, brows screwed tightly together in concentration as he stared at the copious amounts of blonde hair currently tangled in his fingers. 

He’d learned many skills as a Ravager. Breaking into vaults, impeccable aim with his blasters, and somewhere along the line a particularly long-haired ravager had taught him the art of braiding. He hadn’t used that skill in a long time, at least before the guardians had come along. Now it seemed every evening he was braiding back Mantis’s hair, and if he was being honest, he was getting pretty good at it. 

A small chuckle from Thor as he looked in the mirror confirmed his suspicions, and gave him a well needed ego boost. 

"This might be the peak of my career, dude.” Quill leaned back, pulling at a couple of loose strands, earning him a warning crackle of lightning from the asgardians fingers. 

“Seriously. Should I become a barber?”

“I think guarding the galaxy is a somewhat higher priority than hair styling.”

“Nah. This is way better. I feel like picasso after finishing the Mona Lisa.”

“What?” Thor turned slightly, prompting Quill to swat at his shoulder as he tied the final few strands into place. 

“I don’t know, I only got an 8th grade education. Leave me alone." 

Quill brushed his hands against his knees, admiring his now finished handiwork with a proud grin. 

"You do look kickass, though.”

“Agreed.”

Thor twisted this way and that in front of the mirror, fingers tracing their way along the length of the braid that just brushed his shoulder blades. 

He got to his feet, turning slightly to place his hands onto Quill’s shoulders in a sudden movement that made a rather undignified noise come out of his mouth. 

“Uh-” Quill’s brain short circuited for a moment, trying to come up with some snarky response and drastically failing to do so. "What are we doing?“

"When I first got here, we didn’t get along too well. And that was partly my fault - I think I came across as a little intimidating." 

”Oookay…”

“Which is ridiculous. You should value yourself more, Quill.”

Thor smiled, moving to pull Quill into what would go down in history as his most awkward, yet somehow most comforting hug he’d ever had. 

“Your talents are varied and I am in no competition with you. You’re a good man. And I thank you for your hospitality these past few years.”

“O-oh.”

Quill managed to stutter through, kicking his brain hard enough to get it to respond in at least some meaningful way, even if that was just reaching up to pat Thor on the shoulders before the two broke apart again. 

“It’s…it’s no problem. You know you’re always welcome here. Even if you make the team go a little crazy.“ 

Thor laughed at that, reaching up to scratch at his beard slightly, his eyes once again turning back to the mirror beside them. 

"It does look nice." 

"Yeah.” Quill nodded, reaching forward to brush an imperceptible smudge of dirt from their resident god’s shoulder. 

“It does." 

**

"Y'know, I’m gonna miss having Blondie around.”

Rocket hopped up onto Quill’s shoulder, watching from the viewing window as a large green gentleman lifted Thor clean off the ground, swinging him in a circle as the two clung together. 

“Where else am I gonna find enough electricity to power all of my stuff?”

“I’m sure we’ll be seeing him again soon." 

"We better. Some of this stuff is seriously unstable.”

“Rocket." 

"I mean, seriously. Like world ending." 

"Oh my God.”

[disabled-queen-hc-blog]

When I Look and Find, I Still Love You.

“Do you think death could ever stop me from loving you?”

It was a such a poignant question yet far too abstract to comprehend. Did anyone have an answer? Could anyone answer? Could he? He could barely wrap his mind around the thought. He couldn’t process it further than one dimensionally. And it seemed death could.

Death took away. It took away people, bodies, lives and most importantly, love. It took away the vessel of your affections, leaving you bleeding out love with no one to give it to. Until you drowned in it.

John shook his head, lips opening and closing uselessly. There weren’t enough words to express what he felt. All he knew was that if Freddie died, he’d die too. Maybe it’d take decades for his body to fail and stop, but he would’ve been long gone by then.

Freddie smiled, grabbing John’s hand into his own, skinny and dry one, giving it a squeeze. His eyes were sunken in, the bags made to look purple by the sunlight pouring in from the window. His hair was all wispy, a shadow of its former thick curly glory. He looked so sickly and frail, a terrifying degradation from just a few months ago. He used to be the biggest man in the world, but now, he looked so small. But John felt smaller, kneeling by his bedside, fighting back the tears.

“John, I know it’s difficult to believe, but I’m not leaving you. My body won’t be here, but I’m not going anywhere,” Freddie said, his teeth looking big in his mouth.

For John, it wasn’t difficult to believe, it was difficult to understand. “But, you’re dying, Fred. Dying. They’ll put you under the ground and that’ll be it. I’ll be all alone and I don’t want to be alone. I don’t like being alone,” John said, his voice threatening to crack. He wanted to run away, hide and scream. His palms were twitching, begging to let out some angry flaps. But Freddie called him over. He needed to listen to what he had to say.

“You’ll never be alone, okay? Roger and Brian wouldn’t allow that. And neither will I,” Freddie said, his own voice sounding thick, although it always sounded thick these days.

“It doesn’t make sense. When my dad died, that was it. He didn’t come back, because it’s impossible,” John’s mind ran through brief memories of his father’s passing. He was only 11 but didn’t understand the concept of the permanence of death. Even after seeing his father’s stiff corpse in the casket, he asked his mum when he’d come back home.

As an adult, he knew better now. He knew dead meant gone forever. He didn’t understand how Freddie could still be with him when he died.

Freddie was pensive for a moment, bringing John’s knuckles up to his cracked lips, pressing a few kisses into them. “You know how Brian is a scientist?” he asked. John nodded.

“And how he goes around saying energy can’t be created nor destroyed?” John nodded again.

“Think of my love for you as an energy. When I pass, it’s not going with me. It’s not disappearing. It’s gonna stay with you. And as long as you have bits of me with you, you won’t be alone. It’ll be different. We can’t talk like this anymore. But you can talk to me and I’ll hear it. I’ll know when you’re sad or happy. I’ll be here for you,”

John looked down, a few tears leaking from his eyes. He was trying so hard to be open minded, but nothing made sense.

“I’ll miss you so much,” was the only thing he could think to say. Freddie squeezed his hand, mouth forming a tight line.

“I know. I’ll miss you too,”

“I don’t know what I’ll do without you…I don’t think I can do this again, Fred. I don’t think I can,” John said, throat tightening as the tears fell faster.

“Nonsense. You’re a fighter. I raised you that way, didn’t I?” Freddie tried to be humorous, but John didn’t find it funny. His world was shifting, and it was going to shatter any day now. His foundation, his rock. It was going to disappear, and he didn’t know how to cope with it. He tried ignoring Freddie’s illness and then Freddie himself, but it didn’t work. He knew Freddie was on borrowed time. He wanted to die too. Die with Freddie. It was the only way he imagined he could deal with this all.

Freddie sighed, his grip on John’s hand faltering. His fingers went to John’s face, wiping away some tears before he cupped his chin, bringing him up to eye level.

“Look at my boy. The sweetest heart I’ve ever seen. I’m so sorry I’m going to break it. I wouldn’t had I known. But you’ll make it through, alright?” he whispered, his strength leaving him. It was time for a nap soon. John shook his head no, unable to imagine a scenario where he came out the other end even remotely okay.

Freddie’s hands cradled John’s cheeks, his brown eyes so genuine and fond, even when facing death. “I’m so honored you gave me the privilege of being your best friend, your father, your brother. John, I’m so sorry I’m leaving you sooner than expected. I love you and that’ll never change. Even when I’ve gone cold. The love we have for each other is beyond this realm. Cosmic. Nothing can get in its way,”

John was sobbing, his whole body trembling. He didn’t want to hear those words. He didn’t want to think those things. He wanted Freddie to get better. He wanted to grow old with Freddie. He wanted to spend so many more days with him. He wanted Freddie’s big laugh and teasing. He wanted Freddie to look at during concerts. He wanted Freddie’s arms to lay in after rough days. He wanted Freddie. He needed him.

Freddie was strong but struggling. He pressed his lips to John’s forehead, looking up hoping to prevent any tears of his own. Saying goodbye to someone you felt you raised wasn’t easy, but Freddie did have it easier. In some days or weeks’ time, he wouldn’t be feeling anymore. It’d be John’s job to carry all that pain by himself. It wasn’t fair but it was life.

“I love you so much John. I’ll be here, just you see. Every yellow ladybug you come across, that’s me. I always looked so good in yellow,” Freddie said, voice dipping and crackling, trying so hard to put on a smile and to give one to John.

John only cried harder, clambering onto the bed to be closer to Freddie. They hugged for what felt like hours, whispering goodbyes and I love you’s, wiping away each other’s tears. Even when Freddie fell asleep, physically unable to stay awake. Even when Jim came in to see how everyone was doing.

John didn’t leave until late that night, a crack in his heart having formed. He knew things would only get worse from there but at least they talked. At least John was beginning to understand.

♚

John never liked suits. There were too many layers, too many fabrics, all rubbing up against him uncomfortably. He especially hated the ties. He used clip-ons instead, but that didn’t make him feel even marginally better.

He was fiddling with his black tie that was flapping wildly in the wind as he stood outside his home. He wondered if he ripped it off and let the wind carry it away, would Freddie be mad? Freddie said he wanted everyone to look sharp for his funeral, obsessing over fashion even on his death bed.

And Freddie said he would be watching, although John didn’t feel any eyes on him. He was always good at knowing when people were staring at him.

But Freddie also said he wanted him to be happy. John wasn’t happy. He wouldn’t be for a long time, maybe for the rest of his life. He wasn’t too sure how he felt about that, but he did know that if he took the stupid tie off, he’d feel a little bit better. For now, that seemed to be his only course of action. Making things better, not happier.

John reached into his shirt collar, plucking off the tie. He held it in his hand, looking down at the muted fabric, running a thumb alongside it. He had the urge to throw it but thought it was a stupid idea. He was going to clip it back on, prepared for discomfort in an even more uncomfortable situation, when something fell onto the tie.

A spec of yellow.

John squinted, blinking his eyes. There, padding carefree and aimlessly on his tie, was a ladybug. A yellow one.

John’s stomach flopped and fluttered, his eyes becoming wet. He had that familiar nagging feeling of a pair of eyes on him.

“H-Hi, Fred,” he stammered, his lips tugging upwards. The ladybug stopped in it’s tracks before continuing its mindless wanderings.

“I miss you, you know. Lot’s. B-But, I’ll get through this. ‘Cuz I love you and you love me,”

The ladybug’s wings opened, readying itself for flight. John figured it was a goodbye, but when the little bug took off, it flew right to his nose, staying there for a few moments. John gasped, his smile turning into a grin.

“I love you too,” he whispered.

And then, the yellow bug was off, taking off into the sky. The only ladybug alive in England during November.

John was stunned, having to take some time to process and appreciate what happened. A rather large gust of wind rattled him from his thoughts, his eyes going back down to the tie on his hand. He palmed it before he simply let go, the black tie whizzing into the air, farther and farther until it was gone. Out of sight.

Just then, he heard tires rolling on his pavement, followed by a honk of the horn. It was Roger, his ride to the funeral.

John walked down the driveway, flashing Roger a genuine smile when their eyes met. Roger was a little surprised to see John so together, having expected him to need to be dragged to the car. He unlocked the car, looking over at John who slipped into the passenger seat.

“How are you, Deacy?” he asked softly, unsure of John’s true state.

“I’m fine,” John replied. He was fine. He wasn’t whole or happy, but he was fine. He could do this. Now more so than just five minutes ago.

“Fantastic,” Roger said, putting the car into reverse, stepping on the breaks almost immediately.

“No tie?” he asked, looking at John’s getup.

John shook his head with a laugh. “No. Freddie said I don’t need to wear one.”

Roger hummed, figuring this was prearranged. He continued his trek out of John’s house and to the funeral home.

“That’s nice of him,” he said absentmindedly, more in his own head and feelings then in the present.

John hummed a reply, looking at the world outside the car window. If he focused hard enough, he could still see his tie out there, flying along the wind current, flapping and wriggling in the breeze. Utterly free.

These are the days of our lives.

They've flown in the swiftness of time.

These days are all gone now but some things remain,

When I look and I find, no change.

[holylulusworld]

Breaking down

Request: dean x reader (25 reader 35 dean) when some demons staged they’re baby girl (2 years) death maybe something like Mary death and Dean have to stop reader to go back in the flame, and then reader fall on Knee and start crying and shout and dean just trying to be strong for her, so much angst and angry reader with dean because she doesn’t see him heartbroken with a breakdown from dean and reader comforts hugs him? But after a month’s Crowley and Rowena find baby and give back to them? guest Sammy Jody

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Sam Winchester, Jody Mills, Crowley, Rowena

Warnings: angst, characters death (?), sad reader, angry reader, demons, kidnapping, fluff, daddy!dean, sad Dean

“No, no!” Dean, we need to get in there! Mary Josephine is in there…”

Kicking the door to the burning motel room open Dean’s eyes widen…flames are consuming the whole room. Flames are already bursting through the windows. There’s no saving…his daughter is gone.

“We need…” Desperately trying to enter the room you scream and cry when Dean holds you back. The heat of the flames is so close it dries your tears still you try to enter the room to save your daughter.

“It’s too late, Y/N. Please don’t. We can’t save her…she’s gone. Please Baby.”

Arms slung around your waist Dean drags you away from the burning hell.

Pushing him away you try to run back to the room, but Dean is faster holding you back once again he wraps his arms around you.

“We can’t save her, Y/N. She’s gone. Please. I call Castiel. Maybe he can tell us if she’s in heaven.” Dean whispers.

Letting go of you for a moment Dean tries to call Castiel. When your legs give in you fall to your knees starting to cry you feel the pain breaking you. But not just pain is consuming you not anger is welling up your stomach.

“How could you let her just die? You don’t even cry. Did you ever love your daughter? She’s gone and the first thing you do is calling your best buddy?”

“Baby. Please. I love our daughter, but I couldn’t let you die too. Please, Y/N.”

“You never loved her. You would’ve saved her if you really loved her.”

“Castiel will be here soon to investigate the fire with Sam. We should get away from here.” Dean says dragging you toward the Impala.

----

“He’s not even crying.” You sob.

“Y/N, everyone grieves in a different way,” Sam whispers knowing Dean tries to be strong for you. He saw him crying in the dungeon a week ago. And two hours ago Dean was smashing his fist into the wall.

“No Sam, he never even cried. Did Castiel find something?”

“He said MJ is not in heaven. Crowley assured us she isn’t in hell either but with all the chaos in heaven since Metatron caused the fall of the angels…We need to investigate MJ’s death some more.”

“I’ll be in my room…”

Slowly working toward your room, you pass the room you used to share with Dean. Since your daughter’s death, you can’t look at him so you prefer to stay in your old room.

Hearing sob coming out of the room you walk closer to the door. Pressing your ear to the door you can hear Dean.

Silently opening the door, you see him sitting on the floor. Holding MJ’s favorite plush toy in his hands he desperately cries. His whole body is shaking.

Seeing the man, you love heartbroken like you your heart aches even more. All the things you said to him.

Rushing to his side you move your arms around his neck. Placed in his lap you gently stroke his back.

“Shhh … I’m so sorry Dean. I was so full of pain that I didn’t see your pain. I know you love your daughter. Baby, I’m so sorry.”

“I wasn’t able to protect our child,” Dean sobs trembling even more.

“Dean, you always protected us. No one could have known this. Please don’t blame yourself. I know you would’ve sacrificed your own life to save our daughter. Please.”

“I failed you and Mary Josephine. This is all my fault. Our daughter is dead because of me. All my fault.”

“No, Dean. I’m a hunter too. Shh…this isn’t your fault.”

“We lost our baby…”

Resting his head against your shoulder Dean lets out all the desperation and sorrow of the last weeks.

“I know Dean, but this isn’t your fault. We will find whoever did this and have our avenge.”

“I’m sorry for…I tried to be strong for you. I tried to be strong…”

“Dean. Stop trying to be strong for me. You have feelings too. We need each other.”

“I don’t know how I shall move on knowing our daughter is dead,” Dean whispers.

“We need to find a way, Dean. Please don’t hold back your pain for me.”

----

“Still no sign of Mary Josephine in heaven,” Castiel says.

“But it’s a whole month now. I mean she should be in heaven. She’s innocent. A little girl like her should be in heaven for sure.”

“I can assure you she is not in heaven.”

“Don’t tell me she’s in hell,” Sam whispers. He tries to keep his voice low to avoid that Dean or you hear his conversation with Castiel.

“The investigation of the fire is done. There is no normal explanation for the fire. No brand accelerator or anything. I got no clue what the fire caused. But there’s something else. We didn’t find any human remains.” Jody whisper.

“Wait! But that’s impossible!” Sam says.

“Not if MJ wasn’t in the motel room, Sam.”

“But Jody this is impossible. One moment Dean and Y/N put her in the cradle. The next moment they walk out of the room to get the bags and the room is in flames.”

“Maybe someone faked her death,” Castiel says and Sam’s eyes widen.

“You mean someone kidnapped MJ and faked her death, Cas?”

“This is the only possibility. There’s no sign of her in heaven or hell. Jody said there are no human remains in the motel room so this is the only possibility left, Sam.”

“Shall we tell Dean and Y/N so?”

“No, Sam. Maybe the laboratory results are wrong. Then they would be searching for an already dead child. Let’s think this through and I hate to say it but we should ask Crowley for help.” Castiel whisper.

“Are you sure about that? What if someone kidnapped their baby? Dean and Y/N are suffering so much. I can’t let them drown into pain for nothing.”

“Sam! Castiel is right. What if MJ is dead and we let hope bloom into their chests and then we find out she is deceased. Let’s asks the king of hell and his mother for help. Maybe Crowley can find out what happened.” Jody says.

“Okay. I call Crowley. But I don’t like hiding things from Dean and Y/N.”

“Sam, we hate it too. Right, Cas? But we need to be sure first.”

“Alright. I call Crowley.”

----

“Ah, Moose. What can I do for you?” Crowley snickers.

Explaining the situation and what they suspect Sam prays that his niece is really alive. He can bear the pain any longer. Seeing his heartbroken brother and you every day breaks him too. He barely had time to grieve about the loss of his niece himself.

“I will see what I can do, Moose, you owe me one.”

“Fine by me. I owe you two if you find her.” Sam mutters.

“Bye, Moose. You will hear from me soon.”

----

“What did Crowley say?”

“That we will hear from him soon and that I owe him one.”

“Demons.” Jody sighs.

“I don’t care what I have to do. I only pray that MJ is still alive. I really do. Dean is devastated. He’s blaming himself. Y/N is even worse. She barely eats.”

----

“Hello Moose,” Crowley chuckles popping up next to Sam.

“Crowley, did you find out what happened?” Sam asks hopefully.

“We find a bit more,” Rowena says almost smiling. Holding a crying MJ in her arms she tries to soothe the little girl.

“You found her?” Sam asks smiling.

“Well, a little bad demon girl thought it’s funny to stage the babies death to hurt Dean and Y/N. She wanted to keep the baby to well…you don’t want to know.”

“What did she wanted to do with her?” Jody asks worriedly.

“Trade her. No need to tell you, Moose, I had to punish the little disobeying bitch.”

“Is MJ hurt?”

“No, she’s okay. Healthy even. “ Rowena assures.

Talking the still crying girl out of Rowena’s hands Sam almost runs toward Dean’s room. Looking over his shoulder he nods at Crowley.

“This is Sam’s way to thank you and Rowena,” Castiel says.

“Well, anyways. He owes me one,” Crowley says clearing his throat.

“Since when? You said you did this to help your former buddy,” Rowena snickers.

“MOTHER!” Crowley yells.

----

Silently opening the door to Dean’s room Sam sees you both sitting on the floor again. Holding each other’s hand you try to share the pain.

As soon as the little girl sees her parents she starts squealing holding out her hands she calls for her daddy.

“Dadda. Dadda!” MJ calls out.

Eyes widen Dean and you look into Sam’s direction. Bursting into tears you jump up to take your daughter out of Sam’s hands.

“What did you do Sam?” Dean asks worriedly.

“She wasn’t dead. A demon kidnapped her to…well trade her and hurt you. Crowley and Rowena found her.”

“No deal?” You ask.

“I swear, no deal. I leave you alone for a while.”

Pressing your daughter to your body you look at Dean with tears in your eyes. Slinging his arms around you and his daughter Dean starts crying too.

The little girl in your arms giggles and squeals while you and Dean can’t stop crying.

“We have her back,” Dean whispers.

“God, Dean. We … we have her back.”

“We are a family again.”

“And the family will get bigger,” you whisper.

“Huh? Do you want to adopt Crowley now,” Dean tries to joke.

“No, MJ will have a little brother soon. Castiel told me last week.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. MJ won’t be alone anymore. She will be a big sister soon.”

Holding your tight Dean plants a soft kiss to your hair. No matter what he has to do he will protect his family at all cost…

Forever Tags

@donnaintx, @screechingartisancashbailiff, @fallen-wolf22 , @curly-haired-disaster-deactivat, @sister-winchesters99, @mogaruke, @the-is13, @helloitsmeamie203, @strayrosesbloom, @thewinchesterco, @hobby27, @kittycatlover18, @gh0stgurl, @marvelfansworld , @sandlee44, @hawaiianohana15, @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt, @katpatrova17, @notyourtypicalrose , @heyitscam99, @onethingthatkeepsmealive, @natura1phenomenon, @flamencodiva, @echoesofpassion, @cocklesbelli, @anushay1998, @voltage-my2dlove, @wayward-gabriel, @fandom-princess-forevermore, @thenamelesschibi, @lauravic, @fandomsrourlives

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags        

@spnfamily-thewinchesters, @love-my-not-natural-babies, @supernatural-bellawinchester, @butifulsoul125, @lyinginthegingerlocks, @miandaaustin93, @hawaiianohana15, @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester, @20gayneen, @x2closebut2farx, @janicho88, @thefaithfulwriter, @dreaminemz, @negans-lucille-tblr, @sadwaywardkid, @akshi8278, @hhiggs

[hillybargrove]

New Years

Roger Taylor x Reader

Summary: rogers scared to crush on y/n because she’s deaky’s sister but we all know how well that’s gonna work out for him

Word Count: slightly over 2k :)

A/N: it’s january 16th which makes this less fun but i think it’s good and im really happy with how it turned out!! 

When you had first been introduced to the band, they we're already working on their fourth album. Your brother had done his best to avoid introducing you for almost five years, afraid of you taking a liking to one of his friends.

It was barely August when John gave you a call from their studio in Rockfield, asking you to come out and see him.

"Y/N?"

"John?"

"Haven't seen you in a while, how's mum?" You talked for a half hour catching up before he invited you to visit.

"Why, John? You need someone who actually knows how to do laundry?" He couldn't ever remember to separate the lights from the darks, frequently he also forgot the importance of detergent.

"Can't I just miss my baby sister?"

"Well, that almost never happens, John." You agreed, however, and packed a bag so you could stay for a night.

When you pulled in, you saw where they were staying, and how it was in fact a farmhouse. Chickens loitered the dirt road, perching on fences and cooing at some blond. You parked, saw John in your peripheral vision and threw open the car door as fast as you could to run to him.

"Hey!" You said, already airborne and jumping onto his back. There was a thud, your brother was unsuspecting and now on the ground covered in dust and probably a few bruises.

"I'm never calling you again."

"Don't be so dramatic."

The man with the chickens had laughed at the mercy of his friend, gaining your attention when you picked yourself up.

"Hi," You called out, brushing off your jeans. "Sorry about that, sibling rivalry and all."

"Fine by me," he waved you off. "John needs a bit of roughing up." Your brother made it off the dirt himself, shooting both you and the blond a look. From the right you heard footsteps approach the two of you.

"Roger, would you quit mucking around with the chickens and get in here, Freddie needs you for the operatics." Brian, as you'd remembered from pictures, had curly black hair and seemed to tower over everyone around.

"Brian and Roger meet my sister." They both gave small, awkward waves when he failed to give them your name.

"I'm Y/N, sorry. I guess he doesn't remember." You jerked your head at your brother and shot him a dirty look. "D'you forget my name or something?" His friends let out a chuckle and John now gave you a mean expression.

"Give me a minute, it's on the tip of my tongue." You dug your fingers into his sides, drawing out a painful laughter before he cried for you to stop.

"Well, it's nice to finally get the chance to meet you guys," You said, taking a step to shake their hands.

"Likewise," Brian smiled, "I'd love to stay and chat but I've got to get him in there before the bill for this album goes up any higher."

You didn't quite recognize Roger, at least not in a fur coat and a pair of dark sunglasses, but Brian immediately dragged him away from the farm animals and into the studio.

"Uh, John?" You looked at him with amusement, "you didn't tell me your band mates were hot."

"There's a reason for that."

"You've been cock-blocking me for years."

"Shut it."

•••

You had the pleasure of seeing Roger in the recording studio in the middle of his galileo's. It was incredibly tempting to laugh, but everybody else seemed annoyed he couldn't get as high as Freddie wanted.

He did his best not to look at you for too long, but there were more times than you could count that you two caught each other staring.

He also did his best at keeping away from you. Suddenly, he was always the first one up, he made the first pot of coffee in the morning and kept to himself. You hadn't known him before, but there was enough talk about it between the boys for you to know it wasn't normal.

One afternoon you offered to grab everyone lunch from a pub in town, Roger left his order on a postcard and spent the entire day holed up in his room, despite being needed in the studio.

More and more you came to stay with them, choosing the little farmhouse over college parties and pubs, and the boys loved having you around. You broke up the testosterone in the house and always made the bathroom smell like flowers. Your visits, however, revealed the pattern in Roger's strange mood swings.

Freddie noticed it at first, and pointed it out to John who then told Brian. Your brother made nothing of it, and left the two of them to talk to you about the situation.

"Y/N?" Brian turned down the music from the car radio, you two were on your way home from the grocery store.

You gave a muffled response, having had a few chips in your mouth.

"I don't mean to pry, and you don't have to answer, but–" He paused in the awkwardness, "did something happen? Between you and Roger?"

You nearly choked, "Oh my God, Brian," You sent him a look from the passenger seat, "No, definitely no." He didn't seem to like that answer, the wrinkles between his eyebrows told you so.

"Why? Did he say something?" A small rise of panic began in your throat, "Bri, I swear–"

"No! No, he didn't say anything. The boys and I have just taken a little notice of something is all." He let a few seconds pass before beginning again, "He just seems to be very quiet when your in town, stays in his room a lot, never sleeps in, and he doesn't really like to eat with us, you know?"

"Oh, okay. I mean, I don't know. I've only ever known him to be like that. Do you think something's wrong?"

"Well–"

"Wait, so you thought it was because of me?" He came to a red stoplight and turned to look at you.

"No, not at all. Well, okay maybe." His eyes grew bigger, "Not in a bad way! Of course not anything like that, he's just been so weird, and it's only when you're around. So we all kind of assumed–"

"–Cause we hooked up and it ended weird?"

"Not in so many words, but, yeah." The car lurched forward through the intersection. "But you said nothing happened."

"Nothing, yeah. Sorry, I wish I could be more help."

"S'alright, love. Just means now I've got to actually ask him what his problem is."

He told you he'd find out and let you know, but he'd make sure to ask after you went home, which was the next day.

You didn't go back for a while after that, not because of Roger, but because school was a bit more intense after midterms and your mom had started holiday baking in the middle of November.

A week before the month was over, John and the rest of them ended up stopping by on the way to a 'band event' is what they called it.

While you were coming out of the bathroom you heard voices, Freddie and Roger.

"What's your problem, Rog? We're in her bloody house and you can't even make eye contact with her, it's weird."

"Fred, Brian already pestered me about this weeks ago–"

"And he was given a vague answer, you're being rude, it's ridiculous. What's wrong with you?" Dishes clinked around in the sink, your mother walked past you into the kitchen with the leftover peas on a platter and walked back out.

"She's John's sister, okay? That's the issue." Freddie blinked.

"And?"

"She's his sister. I mean, that's off limits, it's gotta be."

"Oh." Freddie paused from washing the dishes, "Well now it all makes sense. So you like her, then?"

"Yeah."

"Well, that's sweet, Rog, but it's not an excuse to be a dick."

Roger shook his head and started wrapping the chicken up with tin foil, "Trust me, I know."

You decided it was best not to go into the kitchen at that moment, instead returning to the table with noticeably red cheeks. To make matters worse, John tapped your shoulder and let you know they were staying the night.

"Are there even enough beds?" He shook his head no. "Then where are they all sleeping?"

Turns out you were sleeping on the couch, despite your complaints. John was in his room with Brian, which left your bed for Roger and Freddie.

•••

It was now almost half past one in the morning, everyone had been asleep for a while. The wine was catching up with you a second time, and you woke up in the middle of the night having to pee.

Groggily, you made your way inside and shut the door. A few minutes later, Roger felt the same pressure on his stomach and slid out from under Freddie's arm draped across him.

A yellow glare fell on the floor outside the bathroom, Roger, slightly drunk and very sleepy, assumed someone left the light on.

"Shit, sorry." The image of a girl in the bathroom made him jump, "I didn't realize anyone else was up."

"S'okay, I'm just washing my hands." You dried them and stepped out, "the door doesn't have a lock."

"I see." He rubbed his eyes and avoided making eye contact with you out of embarrassment, he suddenly felt self-conscious about being shirtless.

"Y'might want to think about knocking next time, though." You diverted your gaze downward, but your eyes lingered on his bare torso.

"Yeah, I'll make a note of that." He blushed and stepped aside for you to get past. He was almost grateful you were only just washing your hands, seeing you half naked in this situation would've been mortifying.

"Night, Roger." You disappeared from his vision around the corner to the living room.

"Night," He said, standing there for a moment before going inside the bathroom.

•••

It wasn't meant to be a big thing, just a few guys in a pub with family and friends to celebrate the new year. Freddie, however, turned his nose up at that idea and threw a party of his own.

Earlier throughout the night, you were given various drinks, mostly champagne. John did his best to keep you from taking too much, lucky for you.

"Just keeping an eye out for my baby sister," He would say, before you stuck your tongue out in protest.

The entire time knowing him, Roger had been skittish around you, for reasons you now knew. Tonight, however, he was different.

Drink after drink on his part, he warmed up to you. Brian even took notice and gave u a thumbs up when he saw the two of you talking. It wasn't about much, and it was kind of awkward, but watching his baby blue eyes glaze over underneath the yellow light of the chandelier made you feel something.

Even later in the evening, he tried to flirt. You then caught Freddie giving Roger a thumbs up like Brian had done to you.

It was charming, watching him across the room throw his head back to laugh, and he always watched you back.

Then midnight came, and with everyone gathered outside on the second story patio, he tapped your shoulder a minute before twelve.

"Roger?"

"I've got something to say to you." He was meant to continue, but your interest in other matters made him clam up.

"Where's your date?"

"Didn't bring one," He stated plainly.

"What about that brunette I saw following you around inside?" You crossed your arms over your chest and smiled.

"M'not terribly interested, I've got this thing for someone else." He said it with a lopsided smile, and you suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to kiss him.

"You've got about ten seconds to find someone, then."

"But I've already found you." It was almost innocent when the words tumbled out of his mouth, like a school boy with a crush.

"You know," You paused, the clock was ticking, "we've barely spoken, and I've only known you for a few months."

"My deepest apologies, love." His fingers found themselves in the loops of your jeans, and you watched those baby blue eyes until you could see the whites tinged red and all of a sudden people were celebrating.

Your lips were on his for a few seconds and it was soft and sweet. Then, his hands found their way around you, and it almost felt like the fireworks were for the two of you instead of New Year's Day.

[itsbenedict]

Kingdoms and Koopas: Ep. 6

K&K is a Fate Accelerated campaign set in the Mario universe, which I’m running for three players:

Bee @thebeeskneesocks​, playing Kandace Koopa

Jovian @jovian12​, playing Cozmo Naut

Malky @sleepdepravity​, playing Dr. Chevy Chain

Last time | Archive | Next time

Previously on Kingdoms and Koopas, the party survived a harrowing underground experience, arrested a bigshot crime lord probably, acquired a magical item, and were in the vicinity of Kandace while she did horrifying things.

This time... we’re leaving the Koopa Kingdom for a fun vacation! Woooo!

So, Kandace wants them there Music Keys, still- and her favorite test subject I mean minion I mean friend, Cozmo, is all too happy to go on a fun adventure to help her get them. Unfortunately, Dr. Chevy Chain would be all too happy to never interact with these chucklefucks again, so she needs an alternate reason to follow Kandace and Cozmo. That reason is... her boss at the hospital has ordered her to make a house call in the Magic Kingdom, which happens to be where the other two are headed!

Unfortunately, the road to the Magic Kingdom has problems on it. One of the problems is bandits. Y’know, Bandits. They’re like Shy Guys, but their masks are more like faces and they steal your crap? Bandits. They’re here to be a random encounter.

Cozmo and Chevy begin fighting them off, but Kandace has an idea to end the fight quicker than that. Y’know her curse that she has? Her magical talking shadow, Carbonado, who makes her life difficult? Well, she’s prepared to bargain this time around- in hopes that maybe he can actually help.

Carbonado’s terms- in exchange for using the darkness to get very big and scary and scare the bandits off- are that Kandace must behave. This is a bit of a tall order, and she bargains him down to... using manners while in the Magic Kingdom. Which are still, likely, terms she’s going to violate, but hey.

Further down the road, they encounter... someone... they’ve... met before? It’s... a Shy Guy wearing a trenchcoat and a big bushy mustache, who would like to sell them some merchandise. It’s Deals Guy! 

Immediate attempts to rip off Shady Guy’s mustache again (isn’t he supposed to be in jail?) are met with failure, as this happens to be... the Real Deals Guy. He actually has decent stuff to sell! Or... would. He’s kind of out of inventory right now, and is actually looking to buy. We try out the new Rich system I threw together (an extra stat you roll, Rich, which depending on the outcome tells you whether you can afford the thing, and whether you need to decrease your Rich to do so). Rolls ain’t great, but Kandace does buy a Super Leaf, once it becomes clear that the random crap off the floor he’s selling does include some useful items.

As they proceed, and as they’re getting closer to the magic kingdom, they meet a wandering wizard- and he has Prophecies for them! One about hearts, one about dreams, and one about paths. He can give them two true prophecies, and another false one- and they have to pick which ones will be true and which will be false. Which... shouldn’t be how prophecies work, but they agree, pick that “paths” should be false, and Merlon gets all SHA-ZIBBY, SHA-ZOOBY on ‘em. The prophecies are as follows:

'Thou shalt never be betrayed by those thou trusteth with all thy heart and all thy mind.'

‘The bow is a truer guide to the arrow's path than the arrow.' 

'A dream is a nightmare waiting to happen.'

The second, on the subject of paths, is conveniently the false one- which they can get the true version of just by inverting it. Still... cryptic as hell, though.

Finally, though, they arrive in the Magic Kingdom.

Chapter 3: From the Stars

Unfortunately- besides Chevy, who has an address she’s meant to head to- they have no idea where to go. The Music Key’s magical signature is just “up”- somewhere in the sky- and they need to find a way to get there. (And, Chevy needs to find a way to figure out how to reach the address in question, since the Mario world doesn’t have GPS.)

So they check an information booth, manned by a Star Kid named Astrid. She gets out a telescope and checks out the spot in the sky they mention- which, as it appears, is a strange ribbon of rainbow light... hm. I wonder...

As for getting up there- well, there’s ways. All kinds of ways! Except, there was recently a large destructive bomb-related accident down at the local Cannon District (where they keep all the Cannons That Shoot You Into Space), and there’s only two cannons left standing. Bullet Bud and Robert Omb attempt to convince the party (minus Chevy, who’s gone off to do her job elsewhere in the city after obtaining a map) that their cannon is the safe one and that the other guy’s cannon is a rickety mess that’ll explode in their faces.

(The paths prophecy, by the way, applied to this situation, though in keeping with Merlon’s “Useless Prophecies” aspect, nobody realized that the “arrow” is the Bullet Bill, and the “bow” is the explosive that fires the bullet- or the Bob-omb.)

No, they solve this dilemma by arbitrarily picking the right cannon- which Cozmo tests first. Unfortunately, they fail to notice a problem in time to stop it (but succeed in noticing it happening at all.) Robert Omb snuck around the side of Bud’s cannon and blew up as it fired, knocking Cozmo off-course. He goes flying up into the sky, and... well, he’ll probably be fine. Let’s assume he’s fine.

Kandace, noticing the sabotage, attempts to... mete out justice? Which is to say... draw a teleportation circle, and attempt to shove Robert Omb into it, to get rid of the cheating bastard. She barely fails the Forceful contest, but Bullet Bud helps her out with sending his rival off to... well, Ted the Storm God’s cloud, is the only place Kandace knows how to make her random-teleport spell come out, right now. Gonna be one confused Bob-omb, suddenly in the middle of Kam Ekademy.

Meanwhile... Chevy has a job to do. She’s arrived at the address, to make the house call she was specifically needed for. See, there was some kind of magical accident that cost everyone in a given radius of the patient to be unable to control their hands, which made things difficult for normal doctors. But Chevy doesn’t even have any hands, and so was considered perfect for the job.

Arriving at Rainbow Cruise Tours, she encounters a crew of concerned Bob-ombs who explain the situation. Their captain, apparently, stumbled in one day with a big piece of magical crystal sticking out of his chest, and fell into a coma on the bed. The crew didn’t have hands, but they also didn’t have surgical training- and most of the surgeons in the Magic Kingdom are Wizzerds, known for pretty much just having hands.

The job itself turns out to be pretty easy, and Chevy successfully removes the foreign object and resuscitates the patient- an odd, stout, yellow man with a heavy accent, a curly purple wig, and an inability to shut up. The Great Flavio invites Chevy on a sky cruise as a reward for her efforts, which she- having nothing better to do, now- agrees to. Like a fool.

Partway through the lovely flight on the sky boat in question, there is a THUMP as something impacts the side of the ship. And then manages to grab hold of the dangling anchor, rather than slide off the ship and fall to its death. This something, as it happens, is Cozmo Naut, who for reasons unknown was recently fired out of a cannon into the sky. Weird. Chevy confirms he isn’t going to fall, and then entirely declines to try and help pull him up.

Kandace, after probably doing a crime by magically banishing someone by force to another Kingdom, climbs into Bud’s cannon and fires herself up there, getting enough altitude that she can reach the Rainbow Cruise and rescue Cozmo using her broom (which would’ve been too difficult to ride all the way up there by herself.)

The cruise, though, appears to be making a stop somewhere else before heading up to... the rainbow ribbon in the sky that you’ve probably already figured out what it is. That they’ve actually figured out what it is, actually, so I’ll just tell you: it’s Rainbow Road, the famous kart-racing track.

But the pit stop is at... oh, just the Royal Castle of the Magic Kingdom. For guests to meet the princess, and stuff. No big.

As they arrive- and Cozmo and Kandace line up to meet the princess, while Chevy hangs back because when can Chevy ever be bothered- they encounter a... familiar face? Sort of? Except for how X-Nauts wear face-concealing goggles and stuff? It’s an X-Naut Cozmo used to know from back during the whole moon thing- Oneiro Naut. They catch up a little bit- apparently, Oneiro is doing some guard duty for the princess’s meet-and-greet, and in their spare time is researching dreams.

Researching dreams...? Dreams, dreams... there definitely wasn’t a prophecy about that...

Anyway, Cozmo and Kandace eventually reach the front of the line, and are face-to-face with Princess Opal herself!

(art by Bee)

Now, here’s a little bit of Kandace backstory that I don’t think I’ve mentioned in these recaps yet: when Kandace was younger, she was experimenting with teleportation spells, and... accidentally teleported herself into this very castle. It was a little surprising, but Opal took it in stride, and told the young magikoopa that she knew she’d be an amazingly powerful witch some day, before helping her get back home.

It was a pretty formative moment for young Kandace- and now, here she is, once again meeting her hero.

Who... absolutely doesn’t recognize her. Which is... fairly crushing, for a moment. But... hang on. This Opal is weirdly... sedate? Very calm, regal, princess-like. Which isn’t at all how she remembers her.

Suddenly, there’s a spark of realization, and Opal tells Kandace- and her friend- to head through a door just behind the throne area. Confused, they agree... and are dropped through a trapdoor and fall and fall and fall through some kind of magical sparkly hole. They land in... what looks like some kind of extremely messy magical workshop. And in that workshop is... the real Princess Opal. 

She explains that the Opal doing the meet-and-greet up in the throne room is a decoy, there to handle all the princess-type duties she finds super-boring. What she doesn’t find boring is Kandace, who she does in fact remember. And she... has Kandace look at some weird magic instruments, and pokes her with a glowy detector rod thingy, and has her hold an orb which she then tosses into a machine which explodes, and generally sort of geeks out about Kandace’s nonspecific magic specialness. She’s very excited.

It’s kind of difficult for Kandace to follow a lot of Opal’s projects, which are very advanced and very hard to determine the actual purpose of. It seems there’s a lot of stuff here that’s unfinished, or that was never really meant to do anything besides look cool in the first place. Opal’s running all over the place, unable to stick to a topic for very long- because whose attention span wouldn’t be taxed by the many wonders of magic, right?

Anyway, Cozmo and Kandace tell her about their quest- to find a magical music-related orb of incredible power. Opal tells them that she’s pretty sure the big tournament is going to have something like that as a prize.

Tournament?

Yeah, the kart-racing tournament. On Rainbow Road. That one. Do they want to enter? YES they want to enter.

So Opal- who’s big into kart racing, along with apparently everything else- offers them pick of her old experimental karts, to borrow for the race! (She herself has been, uh, banned from participating, because she kept breaking vehicle regulations and causing magical accidents during races. Apparently the issue was bad enough that they actually banned their own princess, so... well, it’s probably totally safe.)

Cozmo picks out something with flame decals and lots of firepower- just a big ol’ beefy boy of a car, with a high top speed at the expense of handling. (He tests it out by crashing it directly into the wall of Opal’s workshop- pretty good at crashing!) Kandace, rather than pick out an old kart, works with Opal to soup up her broom, giving it a magical bike mode that increases its top speed at the expense of flight capabilities. 

Meanwhile, Chevy is approached by a Buzzy Beetle who represents the Rainbow Road course management. Apparently, there are so many outlandish injuries that happen on Rainbow Road that most of their doctors have quit in horror, so they’re really looking for last-minute replacements. And so it is that Chevy takes on a part-time job, and is escorted to Rainbow Road by a Lakitu crew.

The two racers, meanwhile, are escorted to the track personally, on karts towed behind Opal’s magical royal chariot. It’s a very stylish entrance, only slightly dampened by a Monty Mole mechanic at the track demanding that Opal leave immediately, in a panicked and horrified tone of voice. He can’t do this again! He can’t! (It’s fine, though- Opal’s just going to be spectating, honest!)

So we would leave off there, but... a couple strange things happen. One thing is that... Oneiro Naut is somehow amongst the crowds of spectators, despite having been at the castle a minute ago and not having been aboard the chariot when they left. So that’s weird.

And another thing is that... Kandace can still track the Music Key’s energy signature. And where it appears to be is... still up. Still straight up, in the sky just above Rainbow Road.

...It’s probably fine! See you next time!

Last time | Archive | Next time

[howtohero]

#249 The Death of Your Nemesis

(Note: This is Part Two of a three part story. Part One. Part Three.)

Uh. Ok, so your nemesis has died. The person you’ve gone head to head with for years and years. The enemy of yours who, without fail, always strives to make things as personal as possible, is gone... Good! You’ll be better off, and the world will be better off with them. You can finally dedicate your time to dealing with more systemic ills in your neighborhood. No longer will you have to alienate everyone you love because there’s always the slim chance that on any given day your nemesis could discover who you are and take vengeance on your friends and family. When your nemesis dies, that’s a reason to party. You’re free of them! Forever! Huzzah! You may not have been able to kill them due to some complicated moral code that only allows you to kill their henchmen, but that doesn’t mean you can’t celebrate their demise!

(Oooooook buddy, why don’t sit this one out. You’re going through a lot right now.)

I’m fine! Why shouldn’t I be fine! My nemesis, Dr. Brainwave, a convicted supervillain who was living, rent-free, in my basement, is dead. I’m free of him. I’m doing great!

(All right, totally. We can all see that you’re handling this with dignity and poise. Why don’t you let me deal with this one.)

Well I suppose I have been training you as my apprentice so that you could one day write blog posts on your own...

(Sure, that’s what our relationship is. So why don’t you go outside, take a breather, and let me handle today’s entry.

What the man says is true. Dr. Brainwave is dead and I guess, technically speaking, he was our nemesis. He’s threatened our lives more times than we count. {We are notoriously bad counters though.} He’s destroyed our home, our place of work, our garden filled with one-of-a-kind miracle veggies. {Immortality radishes, vampiric celery, tasty kale.} And yet, he’s always been there, and I think we kind of just assumed he always would be. You see, a nemesis is not just another supervillain that you’ve got to fight with alarming frequency. They’re a major part of your life. Oftentimes your nemesis will know you better than anybody else in your social circle. Sure, they only took the time to get to know you on this deep level so that they could inflict all manner of psychological torture upon you, but still, it’s kind of nice that they invested that time in you.

A superhero’s relationship with their nemesis is always going to be complicated. You’ll usually see them more than you see your family. You’ll see them at their highest {when they believe that they’ve killed you} and at their lowest {surprisingly enough, after they’ve succeeded in killing you and find their life to be devoid of all meaning and purpose} you’ll occasionally find yourself fighting alongside them and yeah, in some twisted way, you’re going to form a kind of meaningful relationship with them. So what are you even supposed to do when they’ve died? Granted, you’re not as fanatically dependent on them for your continued existence and purpose as they are on you. There will always be crimes to stop and evil to vanquish. But any superhero would be hard-pressed to deny that their lives would be a little bit emptier without their nemesis. Perhaps that’s the real reason why so few superheroes actually kill their nemeses.

If you feel like you need to mourn the passing of your nemesis, that’s ok. You should allow yourself to space to do that. Do something that they would’ve loved. Hold a {vacant} bridge hostage, kick a {robot, stuffed, already dead} puppy into the sun, burn yourself in effigy! If you’re worried about getting attacked by other supervillains if you attend a funeral or memorial service for your nemesis don’t worry! Supervillains usually are not friends with one another. That funeral is gonna be hella empty. You can go there with no problem. Besides, supervillain funerals have been poorly attended ever since Lady Richter used her “funeral” as an opportunity to drop many of her fellow supervillains into a bottomless chasm. Ever since then, supervillains have had a hard time believing that any of their colleagues are actually dead. If any other supervillains attend your nemesis’ funeral, they’ll be lugging around giant ladders in case a bottomless chasm opens up beneath them, and they will be too exhausted to fight you.

The whole How To Hero crew {me, Parentheses Guy, Zach, Lawyer Guy, Dr. Brainwave’s Greatest Shame, Diego A. Wayghosts, Todd The Bomb-Disposal Bot} attended Dr. Brainwave’s funeral and, lo and behold, the only other person in attendance was Dr. Brainwave’s other nemesis, Professor Brain-Scrambler. {There was also, of course, a large contingent of mutant alligators.} He actually spoke quiet beautifully about his mad scientist colleague, after which we pulled him over to the side and told him that he was a hack and that he could suck it, in line with Dr. Brainwave’s final wishes. All in all it was a very emotional 2 am-4 am. {Supervillain funerals almost exclusively take place during this time which is colloquially known as “the witching hour.”} The funeral home was a bit cold, and I would say it was definitely haunted, but overall, it was a pretty solid funeral I’d say. 

Once you’ve spent some mourning the loss of an important and ever-present figure in your life, there is some housekeeping that you need to do. Reach out to your nemesis’ loved ones and express your condolences. The last thing you want is for their loved ones to vow revenge on you and beginning the cycle anew. If you can, talk with their loved ones, estranged family members, sidekicks, or unholy creations and make them understand that you were not responsible for the death of their loved ones. The quicker you do this the better. Blaming a superhero for the death of a loved one is 17th most common supervillain origin story. {number 68 is having your coal company run out of business by windmill farms but number 33 will blow your mind.} In our case, we sat down with Dr. Brainwave’s legions of mutant alligators and several hours of teeth baring and jaw snapping, a fragile peace agreement was forged. {The alligators for their part, behaved remarkably well. Not a single bared tooth or snapped jaw among them!}

Once that is taken care of you must attend to the rest of your nemesis’ personal affects. Their goons will be directionless, and this is a great time to many of them off the board. Have your friends in law enforcement scoop them up before they can find employment under a different supervillain. Or, if you really wanna get wild, invent a new identity for yourself, pose as a new supervillain, take control of your nemesis’ cronies, and then have them perform tasks that seem like crimes, but actually good deeds. Stuff like, “this old woman is an ancient evil spirt, help her cross the street” or “this is my territory now, nobody else is allowed to commit a crime here. If you see another villain doing crimes here, stop them!” Arrange operations against your nemesis’ lairs and begin systemically dismantling their operation. Since they were your nemesis you have the unique advantage of knowing where they’re likely to have kept most of their really cool stuff. And remember, in the souvenir game, it is first come, first serve. So lead the operation against their main fortress or stronghold yourself and claim all of those spleen-discombobulators and parasite helmets for yourself! For us, that just meant going into our own basement and, honestly, reclaiming a lot of stuff we thought we’d lost! We also blew up all of Dr. Brainwave’s stuff, as per his last will and testament. [Hi, again, a hastily scrawled note scratched into a chalkboard that says “destroy all of my Earthly things in the same manner in which I died” is not a will.] Well, we did it! And it was awesome! We didn’t even need to buy any explosives, it’s astounding how much of his stuff was already made out of bombs! {You know what? It’s actually pretty alarming how many explosives there were just under our house this entire time.})

Wait, how many bombs were there?

(I thought I told you to take the day off because you were being weird!)

You’re being weird! How many bombs did you find in Dr. Brainwave’s room?

(I don’t know, probably around 660. What do you think Curly?)

{I’d say around 664, maybe 665.}

Oh you have got to be kidding me.

(See, you’re being weird again. Buhbye! Now, any real superhero can’t exactly be without a nemesis. People will start to talk. “Oh yeah, that guy? He’s not really very superheroic, he doesn’t even have one evil person whose sole purpose in life is to destroy them. Poor guy.” So you need to find a new nemesis! {We recommend reading our advice for finding your first nemesis.} Try calling up all of your old enemies and see if they’d be interested in engaging in an eternal struggle between good and evil with you. Or, just go through the supervillain phonebook and pick a name that kind of seems like an inverse of your own name. {Or, if it’s still too soon for you to even think about replacing your dear departed nemesis, just prank call about of villains until you’re all cheered up.} Without Dr. Brainwave gone, we’ve obviously needed to start looking for a new supervillain correspondent... and, well... I guess just take a look at some of the auditions we’ve received.

Al “Da Boss” Marconi: “Ayyyy, da best way to save da world is to stab a twerp right between the eyes and laugh as he bleeds out on the pavement!” {Factually incorrect.}

Dr. Python: “So this job comes with a free room right? My last roommate turned out to be Ultiman so obviously that wasn’t going to work out and I kind of very badly need a new place to live.” {Seems to believe that living with Ultiman is a bad idea because he is a superhero but living with us is fine. Which leads us to believe he either doesn’t really get who we are, or does not respect us.}

Giorgio the Evil Mime: “...” {This guy was Zach’s top choice, but he is clearly grieving and not in his right mind. He seems to have forgotten that our supervillain correspondent needs to be able to speak and make intrusive comments on our blog posts.}

As you can see, we have been having some trouble, but luckily we’ve got interviews with Jhonny McBarn-Burner, Mustard Man and the dreaded Karalaxus who is actually a very pleasant guy once you agree to give up your free will and join his horde of mindless zombies. So hopefully one of those guys pans out.)

Stop everything! We don’t need a new supervillain correspondent. (Dude, for real, you need to take a break. You’re going a bit cuckoo you know?) No, I’m serious, and your face is a bit cuckoo actually so how about you step the heck off.  (Rude.) We don’t need to replace Brainwave, because I don’t think he’s actually gone {What are you saying! Wait, did we actually all die in the explosion? Was he the only to survive? Is he mourning us? Which of us did he mourn the most? Me?} No, I believe that he’s dead. But I also believe that he died on purpose. (Well sure, we all saw him unrepentant supervillainously sacrifice himself so that we could live!) I don’t think he sacrificed himself at all actually. I think he planned on dying, and that he planned on benefitting from it in a way that none of us could have foreseen.  (Ok, you’re gonna have to walk us through that.) Ok, so remember when we went through Brainwave’s stuff, we found a grand total of 665 bombs right?  (I guess?) {We are notoriously bad at counting.} True, but I think we got it right this time. I think that there were only 665 explosive devices in Brainwave’s lair/our basement. [Only?] Yes only! What kind of fanatical supervillain builds so many explosives but stops before hitting 666! The devil’s number! I think he did have 666 bombs, until he mailed one to our office! (Wait, what? You think Brainwave sent us that bomb? That seems like a stretch.) Oh? Does it? The most evil person that we are acquainted with sent us a bomb? That seem awfully farfetched to you? (Well, when you put it like that...) And he was wearing rocket boots the whole time! We could’ve strapped the bomb to one of his rockets and launched it through the skylight without him having to carry it! {That reminds me, our landlord called and said that we definitely lost our security deposit because of that skylight.} (Ah DANG IT!!!!) I think that he waited until the timer was low to reveal that he was wearing rocket boots so he could make his sacrifice play. And hey, he knew that the time on the bomb was displaying the wrong time and yet he knew exactly when the bomb was actually going to go off. That isn’t suspicious to any of you??? (Look, if I made a big deal about everything I found suspicious our coworkers we’d never get anything done!) {Is this about my outstanding deal with the devil?} (No, actually.) And Parenthesis Guy, you even said that the funeral home seemed haunted during the funeral! What if that was Dr. Brainwave! What if he devised this whole scenario so he could die and become a ghost!  (Why would he do that? And doesn’t this all seem a little convoluted.) Yeah, dude, he’s a supervillain! Something the rest of you seemed to have lost sight of. Of course he would come up with an absurdly complicated plan to become a ghost. From a supervillain’s perspective, being a ghost would be way better than being a frail old human with the physique of a scientist.  (I don’t know man, I’m just not seeing it.) What! It makes total sense. He freaks us out with a bomb. Classic supervillain move. He puts us on an emotional rollercoaster by making us think he sacrificed himself to save us, causing us to question everything we thought we knew about the sort of person he was. All while shedding his physical form in order to commit crimes as a ghost. It’s a classic Brainwave move!  (I think maybe you should lie down buddy. You’re starting to go a bit crazy. And not in a fun way like the rest of us.) {Yeah when you make us look like the sane ones you’ve gotta throw in the towel man.} Yeah. Yeah ok, maybe you’re right. (Yeah, maybe we’re right. Let’s call it day, we’ve still gotta go feed the mutant alligators.) You guys go ahead I’ll catch up. {Ok, remember to put on your armor before you enter the alligator pen this time.} Yeah, yeah I’ll remember. All right Brainwave, the others are gone. I know you’re here.

<Uch fine. You got me.> You absolute bas- <Listen, you’re right. I’m every name you’re about to call me. But can we do this later? Right now, I need your help.>

[shall-we-imagine]

Peace. (Elias GoldsteinxLuca Orlem [Platonic ig] *AU*)

A/N: This was supposed to be just a drabble but as you guys might've noticed I cannot control myself and this is longer than a drabble 😂

Genre: Fluff/a bit angsty ig

Summary: Sometimes what you have to do and what you want to do are two opposite things.

(Third point of view)

"You don't understand how it's like! You've always been the perfect one!" Tears blurring his vision, the 11-year-old boy yells at his older brother, who had merely tried to calm him down and had nothing to do with the younger boy's problem whatsoever.

"Elias, could you please listen?" Maintaining a soft, calm voice, the teenager attempts to reason with the child. It wasn't rare for Elias to throw temper tantrums every now and then; being his older brothers, Alfonse and Klaus would always try to coax him into letting them take care of him and comfort him, yet sometimes, today being an example, Elias decides to remain as stubborn as could be and refuse to let them in.

"No!" The boy huffs, "I'm going to see Luca!" He turns towards the coat hanger, grasping his beige jacket and rushing towards the front door.

"Why do you keep saying that?! You know, if you leave now, father is gonna get-" slam! "..angry.." Sighing in frustration, Klaus runs his hand through his soft, curly locks. He contemplated following his brother out but decided against it; he knew he would be back soon, and a lot calmer as well. Perhaps he could find a way to ensure their father doesn't know his 11-year-old son just stormed off though..

"How many times do I have to get scolded for not being good enough?" Elias mutters, struggling to get his jacket on. "No matter what I do, it's always you could've done better." Puffs of smoke leave his freezing lips, and he mentally slaps himself for not taking time to bring along a scarf at least. It was harshly cold, but he had too much pride to go back and layer up before leaving again. Therefore, he forced his mind off the slight shivers of his body and the constant clashing of his teeth.

At the sight of the familiar tree stump, Elias's pace quickens subconsciously. It was their official meeting spot.

Sighing, Elias plops onto the wooden surface that had begun collecting tiny mushrooms all around it. "I miss when your bedroom and mine were merely two windows and a few inches apart. I wouldn't be freezing out here to see you." The blond grumbles to himself, or at least that's what he thought.

"Hey, it's not my fault! I do miss it too though." Elias's head snaps towards the green-haired boy currently taking seat on the same stump. "How have you been, Prince Elias?" The latter grins.

"Luca, you've known me since birth! I'm not royalty!"

"You could totally pass off as a prince though." You'd think the two would get tired of this argument, yet they didn't seem to be stopping any time soon.

"Whatever. I had another argument with my father." Elias confesses the reason of his visit, "and Klaus.."

"Man, why do you never visit just because you miss me?" Luca teases the younger boy.

"Because you're annoying." The Goldstein retorts.

"You're just too prideful to admit you missed me; that's all." Orlem smirks, earning a glare from the blond.

"You wish." Elias rolls his eyes, wishing the redness of his cheeks could slide with an excuse of how cold it is. He knew it was true. He always missed Luca but would never say it out loud; hell, he could barely admit it to himself.

"Anyway, you still haven't found a way to leave?" Tentatively, Elias shifts to a more sensitive topic. His gut twisted uncomfortably, as he waited for an answer. Yes or no, whichever it was; he couldn't feel true happiness. Deep down, he was aware he had to be happy for his friend if he'd found a way to escape this lonesome misery, but the selfish side of him set his heart ablaze at the sole thought of saying goodbye one more time. One last time.

Elias swore he caught Luca's smile drop a little, but it was back so fast he doubted himself. "I wouldn't be here if I'd figured something out, would I?" He jokes, but his younger friend knew him too well. He could sense the sadness within the statement.

"You'll figure something out; I'm sure." Elias attempts to comfort the other boy, hiding his own discomfort towards the statement.

"Ah, I'm a restless soul cuz my friend keeps having arguments with his family, so I need to be here for him. I haven't fulfilled my purpose!" Luca's playful self returns, as he dramatically sighs and throws the blame on his friend.

"That cannot be the reason!" Elias argues, but a flicker of guilt finds its way to his heart. "..right?"

"I don't know." Luca shrugs, "I mean I don't feel restless. I just feel bored most of the time, to be honest."

"Can you believe I've gone through this entire forest?" He chuckles, a glimmer of excitement coating his words.

"At least you found a way to enjoy yourself." The younger smiles.

"Mmhm." Luca nods.

An awkward silence fills the dark forest. They were ignoring the elephant in the room. For the first few month, they were both filled with glee at the pleasant accident- an unforseen reunion. However, now it was more of a burden; it was a mistake they couldn't fix- one they hadn't even committed in the first place but still had to find a solution for by themselves.

As much as they loved being able to see each other still, Luca was stuck in the middle of a forest, neither dead nor alive, and that wasn't the most pleasant of postions.

Even though he wasn't told what to do, Elias felt it somehow. The key to Luca's freedom was tightly clasped between the blond's hand, while he pretended not to find it.

Elias's head drops, fixing his eyes on the ground. A trail of ants was what he decided to stare at; he wasn't even sure how the moon was able to make the tiny creatures that clear to him; perhaps Elias's need to look at anything but Luca gave him super vision. Who knows.

His shaky voice barely audible, Elias lets out the thought he kept trapped for his own selfish needs. "I'm going to stop mourning you." He fought against the burning in his eyes and the lump at the back of his throat. For once, he was thankful for being late for a haircut, since his hair conveniently kept his currently moist eyes hidden.

The older lets out a nervous laugh. "Why are you mourning me, prince? I'm right here." He spreads his arms widely, in a way to show his presence.

"You're a spirit, Luca!" The smaller boy sniffles, unable to battle his own emotions.

"So? I'm still your friend, am I not?" Luca feigns hurt, but his goofy nature that always cheered up his friend had failed him this time. The younger remained silent, forcing Luca to speak up again, this time abandoning his humor and resorting to a different method.

"Elias, listen; I know you're scared I'll leave you alone, and I know you feel guilty about it, but it's normal, isn't it? Death is inevitable. Life had somehow managed to give us a chance to reunite- a chance for me to assure you my death wasn't your fault. It should've made you happier not more miserable." His green eyes stared intently at the blond, who for the first time in a while looked up from the ground.

"I know." The younger sniffles. "I want to set you free- I do, but I just miss you, Luca..I miss you so much. You never should've left me like this! I never should've agreed to your stupid idea that day!" By now, Elias's voice had gotten gradually louder. He was tired of bottling up his sorrows.

"Elias, I suggested we play here; my death was my fault- not yours, so for once, listen to me, and stop drowining yourself in guilt!"

"But..if I'd said no then maybe-"

Luca gets off the stump and stands facing Elias. "If you'd said no, I would've dragged you here either way, Elias. It's not like I would've listened. When have I ever?" Adding a small laugh, the older boy peeks at his friend's face.

"You never listen." Luca was left unsure how to feel or act; Elias had spoken the sentence and paired it with a laugh, yet streams of tears raced down his rosy cheeks.

Luca dropped to his knees, "Are you okay, Elias? I'm sorry." He didn't know what he'd done to gain such a conflicted reaction from the smaller guy, but he felt bad nevertheless.

Resolution in his eyes, Elias wipes away his tears (not that it did much to stop the streams spilling out his eyes anyway) and gives a bright smile to his friend. "I'm good. You're right. I'm glad we've had this chance; I'm glad I can say goodbye to you properly."

"I..I don't think you look very glad, Elias.." Luca gave a light, nervous laugh.

It was as if Elias could no longer hear his friend. "I will miss you, Luca, but it's time I let you go. It's time you get to rest."

"Wha..what are you talking about, Elias?" The older boy grew more nervous and confused.

"Goodbye, Luca." A pained yet genuine smile revealed itself on the blond's lips.

A reply was never given. Green eyes bore into purple ones; until eventually, Elias could no longer see the beautiful emeralds that were embedded in his memory by now. And for a few moments, the boy kept staring at the big, plain, lonely tree before him, trying to grasp the fact that he'd just freed his friend.

He was happy, wasn't he? His heart twisted in anguish, but he was content. In some strange, unexplainable way, he felt joy.

"Elias! My goodness, father is gonna kill us all if you don't come back with us now." Klaus rushes to the little boy's side, Alfonse following shortly after.

"Are you..crying?" The eldest asked in the softest voice.

"No." It was a blatant lie, everyone could tell. And even though he didn't try to seem convincing, no one questioned him.

Silently, all three walked out the forest.

Elias almost wanted to remain inside the green space, as if leaving was a confirmation he'd never see his friend again. But of course he couldn't. He followed his older brothers home. They didn't ask questions, and for that he was thankful.

By the time they reached their front door, Elias had cried his eyes dry. His siblings walked inside, but he stayed back for a few seconds and took one last look at the starry sky.

"I hope you're finally at peace." He whispered. Perhaps he'd gone mad, but he was sure he heard a familiar voice whisper back.

Same goes to you, Prince.

[writers-guild-discord]

Interlaced

Summary: Three events. Three lives. One fact. For the December Prompt: "Why would have that changed anything?"

---

[Do you believe in love at first sight?]

I saw you at the train station.

Today was no different--the cacophony of noises and sound from the station was unbearable. It’s early morning and there’s already a huge crowd of people gathered to take the steam train for each their own purpose. I spot a family on the far side of the platform, a toddler reaching out to a guard with chubby hands as her father sweeps her in his arms just in time. Several businessmen had also taken up the line, handling their own luggage and briefcases.

Sighing, I decided to take a seat on the nearby bench. It’s been at least an hour since I got here, but the train doesn’t seem to be arriving at the prescribed time. The train master’s voice rings somewhere around, imploring us to be patient and that the train will arrive soon. It’s not the first time this has happened since the operation of the metal car.

The familiar shake of the ground gave me the cue to stand. It was approaching, and I needed to get on this time, or else my boss would never let me hear the end of it. The smoke from the engine and coal could already be seen as I started to press my way through, moving along with everyone else. A few bumps and shoulders were no big deal--it had always been part of the daily grind.

What hadn’t was the sudden hold on my sleeve, the direction of their force sending me forward. There was a split second as I turned around to reprimand them until we both fell on the floor, my body cushioning theirs. The people around us were perceptive enough to make room for our fall.

I groaned, sitting up, my head throbbing. I opened my mouth to speak before I was met with the most captivating hazel eyes, framed by a mess of curly auburn hair. Her gaze was apologetic, a small pool of tears forming on the corner of her eyes.

“I..” she started, her shock written all over her face. “I-I’m sorry..”

Her voice was like a melody I knew by heart. A pang to my chest snapped me to my senses as I shook my head. The sadness in her eyes made my heart burn, for some reason.

I cleared my throat to find my voice. “Miss, are you alright?”

She nodded, which made me glad. My hand was still clutched to my briefcase as I adjusted to stand, her gaze following me. Offering my other hand, she slid her palm on top of mine as I pulled her to her feet. The sensation of our skin touching made me jump as if I had been electrocuted. Her cheeks bloomed red, and I found it adorable.

“Thank you.” she quietly murmured, seeming to have regained her bearings. I couldn’t help the smile that came to my face. She smiled back at me, and the noises in the background dulled.

My hand was still holding hers when the clock bell rang. We both turned around--it was already 9AM on a Monday.

I realize that I would be screwed if I didn’t leave right now. “Sorry, gotta go.” Hastily, I released her hand and ran through the crowd. The train wouldn’t be arriving for the next 20 minutes, and I needed to move now.

Carriage had always been a pricey mode of transportation, but it will have to do for now. Upsetting clients is the last thing my business should be known for.

I climbed in a waiting cart, leaving the station and the mystery woman behind. And even as I actively engaged with my client about our newest creation, I couldn’t get the picture of her lovely face out of the back of my head.

[I didn’t either, until I met you for the first time, several times. Neither of us were aware of what was going on, but we didn’t pay enough attention in the beginning to make sense of it. History would chalk it up as coincidence, a fleeting moment, a chance encounter.

But was it really, if it were already written in the stars?]

--

[How about in second chances?]

A hero, they say.

I disembarked from the car, lugging my black umbrella as I sweep my veil from my face. It’s a sunny morning, yet my mood was the complete opposite. The war had ended, finally, after a long battle between the two raging leaders.

Several of the other women I knew were relieved once they saw their lover or husband return home. Some unscathed, exhausted from the everyday military grind. Some have lost their limbs, either an arm or a leg, perhaps even their eyesight or an internal organ. Some have sacrificed their sanity for the peace that our leaders strived for.

My feet fell into grass, the crunch from the pressure sounding like knives in my ears. I gripped the bouquet of flowers tightly, their petals shaking in the wind. Or was it my hands? I couldn’t tell anymore. My vision blurred as I approached the small gravestone amongst the several ones, straight lines going nowhere. The dog tag underneath my dress felt like ice as my eyes scanned the stone slab.

xx xx-xx A BRAVE HERO WHO FOUGHT FOR THE LIBERTY AND FREEDOM OF HIS LAND

I laid the flowers down, adjusting my position to kneel down comfortably. My fingers ran through the etched letters, as if in wonder--or disbelief. Death in combat had always been viewed as an honorable thing. I shake my head, reminding myself that he’s gone for good. The man I once loved had ascended to the heavens with his fellow country men, as the ones left behind are to sing him praises and remember him in our memories.

Was it cruel of me to do this? Perhaps. To be scorned in the search of my own happiness was not something I looked forward to. But this loss has given me the wake up call to pursue it wholeheartedly, without any doubt or reservations.

I treasure the time and moments we shared together. My love for him was never a question, and he knew that as well. I loved him undoubtedly, genuinely, truthfully. Picking the dog tag off my neck, I draped it on the tombstone, the flat metal reflecting the morning sun back to my face. I ran my fingers on the thin marking for a last time before standing up, brushing the grass off my clothes.

“I love you.” I whispered his name like a prayer, asking for guidance.

Or am I asking for forgiveness?

The ride home was silent. The driver said nothing as he stopped in front of my house; I couldn’t bear to stay in his, at this point. Too many memories, I tell myself. The car door shuts as I walk up the familiar stairs, feeling the soothing aura of my childhood. Mother and Father are gone, but it feels as if they would still greet me by the doorway, happy to welcome me back.

I hear the door swing open as I reach the platform, my heart pounding. There’s only one other person who it could be.

“Welcome home.”

Her soft voice fills my chest with warmth and soothes my palpitations. I look up and meet emerald eyes, sadness and worry reflected in them. She knows where I’ve been, as denoted by my clothes, but my anxiety from the trip seems to melt away with her presence. The storm in my heart comes to a slow stop as I step across the boundary, pushing us both inside. The door closes heavily behind me, my arms slide around her waist as my lips fall on hers. She tasted like honey, sweet and intoxicating, her vanilla perfume filling my senses. I cup her cheek and nip on her lower lip, tilting her head as she opens herself for me to deepen the kiss. I can feel nothing else but her heat against me.

It felt like ages before she pulled away, her chest heaving to regain some oxygen. Her cheeks were stained red and it never failed to amuse me.

“I’m home.”

[At first, I hesitated. Should I tell you?

I’ve found a path where our lines crossed, our constellations aligning to each other. I see that this isn’t the only time it’s happened, because the familiarity of you felt like a puzzle piece falling in my heart. I’m now aware of what it is--what it has been, after all this time--but I cannot measure you. Do you feel the same way? Do you understand my perception of this?

Will you accept, or will you reject me?

Your answer wouldn’t have changed mine.]

--

[How many past lives do you remember?]

He held my hand as we ran through the forest, ducking and pushing through the branches. The night had provided no shelter from our pursuers--lighting a lantern would surely direct them to us. The moon above was our only guide as we sought a clearing in the middle of the darkness.

None of us spoke a word. I felt the tension in his grip as our feet hurdled over a rock into a shallow pit, the leaves rustling and making way for us. Both of us knew the past would eventually catch up, despite our efforts to be cautious and escape everything. Who would have figured they’d still be chasing you down after all these months, and this far from the capital? I shook my head, wishing I had ripped down that wanted poster and offered to move the same day I saw it.

I should have known. But the peace we had over the last month was soothing, and I didn’t want to leave the people and the village behind. They had been the most caring and welcoming of all since our journey began. A sense of normalcy had started--although I know some of the travelling merchants gave him quite a look every now and then. Being part of the yakuza really did have its roots and reaches on the land.

His hand was cold like ice. I would’ve given anything to warm them, just as if he was running them across my skin, like so many nights before. I would’ve given anything to go back to those quiet moments we shared, our breathing and rustling of cloth the only thing we could hear. Making love was one of the most magical moments of my life, next to loving him. Perhaps the most magical of all was that he let me in the spaces of his heart, to allow himself to express the vulnerability and openness that he hadn’t whilst in their group.

“Hey!” My thoughts stop as I hear their voices far behind us. Seems like they’ve caught on; his eyes never strayed from what was ahead of us as I followed, noticing the brighter patch of moonlight just ahead. We might be able to make it if..!

“Over there! I see them!”

The sea breeze blows past us as we cleared the trees and bushes, standing over the edge of the cliffs. My legs were shaking from all the running, trying to control my breathing as the realization started to dawn on me. Glancing at him, the conflict in my chest calmed as he gave my hand a squeeze. Another realization--this time, a decision.

A clamor of footsteps came closer, stopping just as the forest ended. We turned to look at them--current members of the yakuza clan, clad in their traditional yukatas with their swords raised. Despite leaving the clan on their terms, they still chased us down here, determined to kill him. Their leader truly is ruthless; you either die in the streets or die by their hand.

“It’s useless to run from the boss.” The man in the middle spoke up, his deep voice penetrating the silence. I could sense a hint of nostalgia in his words, almost as if saying a daily reminder. “You know that, despite the ceremony.”

“We all know what that ceremony meant.” My lover spoke calmly. “We’ve been witnesses to them before, and I know your purpose for coming here.”

None of the men moved from their spot, hesitation written on their face. The thought of having to kill their previous leader perhaps made them queasy. I knew enough that the man who spoke first was also a high ranking member, on equal footing with him.

“Is this why?” He asked as he gave me a sharp look, his voice filled with disbelief. “Is he why you left? This… commoner?” My emotions wanted to boil over in anger over the insults. “You’re smarter than that, you know? You’ve seen how he can work.”

I realize that they were trying to win him back, to get him to join them again. He’d been quite the force of the clan, a ‘graceful beast’, I heard him tell me one night. He was swift, thorough, and always got the job done. I can see why they’re trying to do this--he’s held in such high regard that losing him would be a huge blow to them.

“He can take us to higher places. Places we’ve yet to discovers, heights that we can only imagine. You’re his right hand man. You know this as a fact!” He was frustrated, the brows on his face knit together in confusion. “You of all people should understand! Why did you forsake us for this.. This..!”

I knew he was referring to me. The one who led their precious leader stray, the tempter, a taikomochi--the term tasted so foul in my mouth. I knew he wanted to say something similar, perhaps something more vulgar, but something held him back.

“No.” He replied shortly. “I know what he’s capable of, yes. But it’s not what I want.” Squeezing my hand again, I held it tightly right back. “What I want is right beside me. And if you can’t understand that, then this discussion is pointless.”

Slowly, they closed in on us, forcing us to back up towards the edge. A feeling of deja vu struck me as my fear started to bubble inside, shifting to look at him. He already had his gaze on me, his shining ocean eyes reflecting the calmness and love that he kept in his heart. I knew that gaze all too well, a sense of comfort washing over me as my ears picked up on the ocean waves below. Everyone here knew that no one would survive that great of a fall.

“We’ll find each other.” He whispers, the finality in his voice giving me the strength to take the decision with him. “Just like before.”

“Yes.” I nod and smile at him despite the circumstance. “Will you wait for me?”

His laugh rings in my ear and for once, the night air didn’t feel cold. “Of course. I’d recognize you anywhere.”

They tried to stop us, but it was too late. The edge didn’t make us fear flight--it gave us the opportunity to break free; from tradition rooted in history, societal expectations and standards. My body shivered in fear of the pain when we crashed in the water, but my mind was made up. He held me close to him as I listened to the rhythmic thumping of his heart, a sound I’ve come to know over the past months, a lullaby so soothing and nostalgic.

It was the last thing I heard before falling into the abyss of nothingness.

[In some, you understood, In others, you denied.

This is one where you understood--and accepted. I hadn’t meant for you to find out what I felt when it slipped past my tongue that night, but I couldn’t control my emotions anymore. Finding your lighthouse in the middle of a never ending storm was the equivalent of finding a needle in a haystack. Indeed, a one in a million chance.

It felt as if we had been in each other’s gravity since birth, the push and pull of the other felt almost like a routine--something we became accustomed to, a habit that no one around us had but we adapted to it like second nature.

Both of us felt that and decided to respond in one voice.]

--

Destiny is a funny little thing…

People say you cannot remember anything from your previous life. Souls are a mystery, unable to be complete without a body to inhabit. It waits for the opportunity to be brought back to the physical world and experience people, make history, discover the world, and interact with other souls. Whether or not we remember each other is a question to answer while in our mortal realm.

But why would have that changed anything?

I know. The both of us know. That whatever the outcome, you and I can find each other again. In this lifetime, we’ve found and gravitated towards each other like moths to a flame. Who can say for certain if we’ll meet in the next lifetime, or the one after that?

The one thing I’m sure of is that my feelings will not change.

No matter what lifetime we meet, when or how it happens. It is the only constant thing; the red string between us, that never breaks despite getting tangled and tied up in the mess of our reincarnations. The link that keeps us connected in this vast universe, the hope that someday we can come together and fall into each other’s lives again, regardless of what role we play in them.

[happily-lost-in-oc-writing]

Broken constellations, Chapter 3- desperate mistakes

Jessica's POV

"Why." She says, looking at me, with something like desperation,

"Why..?" I glance at her, before realizing what she's asking. .

"Why do you all torment me? What did I do to you to piss you off so bad? This place is hell enough without you- and your- bullshit...." She trails off, looking away.

My hands tighten on the steering wheel and I take a breath in as I park, and I want to tell her that I have a good reason. I want to tell her I'm sorry and I would've never gone along if I knew her but I don't know her and I don't know what to tell her.

"I see." She says, Angry and hurt. I move my hands to say something but nothing comes, and she storms off. I turn off my car and slam my head into the dash, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. DAMMIT!

I get out of the car and go after her, hoping I can compose the words to explain I am a horrible human being who deserves to burn in Hell?!?

I rush in and Amber smiles, pulling me to our group. Rex frowns at me, and Erika smiles falsely.

"You ran off last night-"

"Why don't you shove Erika in it. You didn't mind doing that when I was upset last night." I snap, and Amber frowns.

"Happy V-Day!!!!" Amber smiles, tossing little Valentine's out. I see Quincey Addams passing- she's a cute girl. Nice. She's got bright blue short hair in a curly pixie cut, a pink beanie and a pink hoodie with a jean jacket and skinny jeans with boots. She's carrying a basket of baked goods and smiles at me, I take the chance to ignore Erika and Rex and smile back.

"Happy valentines, Quinn!"

She blinks and smiles really wide,

"You too Jessica!!! And uh," she leans in and whispers, "congrats on Cassie-" she giggles and runs off- I feel myself turn pink before looking at Amber.

"Happy V-day Am." I smile at Amber and notice Cassiopeia arguing with teddy at the vending machine. I pull back until she goes inside and walk in with the group, ignoring Erika and Rex, Amber stands between us to ease the tension. All I can focus on is the situation, and how Cassiopeia was the only person who asked about it. And she had some solid advice. And how I've been nothing but absolutely horrid to her just because I could. I sit down and give her a smile, at some point in that blur of a morning.

Amber and I go to math, and I see Cassiopeia curl over in her seat, conflicted. I want to walk over and tell her it's okay and I'm sorry and that I want to know her, but I find myself lacking the confidence and the words. She hands Amber three sheets of pictures, and I take two, writing down a note.

I need to talk to her.

I might go crazy if I don't.

•T•i•m•e•s•k•i•p•

After school I hurry to my car, Amber following me. Erika starts Getting in and I turn around and glare.

"Don't." I bark, feeling my breath get quicker and angry.

She rolls her eyes and puts her hands up like she's surrendering and strolling away. Amber gets in, biting her lip.

"I'm sorry- you found out like that."

What.

"Excuse me?!? You- you knew?!?!?" I whip around to Amber and feel my heart break a little more.

"I- I've known since last summer... I was gonna tell you- but- you both seemed so happy and I didn't wanna mess anything up." She smiles sadly, and I drive silently.

"Are you- Okay.... Jessie...?" She looks at me, and I keep looking ahead, no Cassie. Dammit. I drive to her house in silence. Teddy lives over here, so does Erika. I pull up to her driveway, and she hugs me.

"I know you're not okay. I should've told you. I just didn't want to lose you guys. You're all I have anymore. You've seen my home. It's a war zone. I don't want you guys to be one too. I love you too much." She leaves that to linger in the air as she leaves the car, and I sit there, feeling my lip tremble and my eyes sting and I sob, my throat burns as I fail to compose myself. Why does it hurt so much?? I knew he didn't care about me but I also thought he loved me. Or maybe I wanted to think that...  I wanted him to be true. I wanted to have it with him. I wanted him. And now I've just got this- this empty pit in my gut that's burning and hurting and I want it to stop and I want the pain to go away, I want it all to stop. I haphazardly drive home, calming my shaking hands just enough to get back, and check the note on the fridge.

I cant breathe, every breath burns going down and rips it's way through my lungs and my stomach is on a tower of terror- it goes up and down and drops over and over again and I can't help but think of how much everything hurts right now. Everything is causing so much pain and I can't even see the damn wound. It makes me feel sick to my stomach. It makes me want to forget the day for at least a minute.

"Went out for the week, Doodlebug. Love you. Be back Friday."

I tear open the liquor cabinet and down the vodka, some tequila, and enough brandy to forget the next twenty four hours. I stuff my face with cold pizza and I sit on the kitchen floor, sick of emotions

"Cassieeeee" I remember I need to talk to Cassie. Yes. I need to do that. I want to talk to her right now. She makes the blurry shit clear. Yes. Rex is a dick and Cassie is warm.

With Rex being a dick, and Erika being a backstabbing bitch, and Amber being an emotional mess, Cassie is clean. Cassie is neat and comforting.

I get up and check the time: woah. It's 12:39 am. I stumble over and knock on the door . I keep knocking until she opens the door tiredly, in shorts and a hoodie that falls over her thighs.

"Jessica... what the fu-"

"Cassie we need to talk!" I hug her and pet her hair, hoping she'll listen. It's soft like it looks and fluffy, and she's warm. She's super warm. I wonder what her hugs feel like. "We need to talk like. I said in the note you read I saw you read it and. I wanna talk to you."

"Dear god you smell like a bar." She takes me up some stairs to her room: it's baby blue and there are fairy lights, a pastel day bed with a princess canopy around it, a white dresser and stuffed animals.

That's when it all got fuzzy.

And I woke up to Cassie's back, her in a bra, and curled up under the covers.

Fuck.

Cassie's POV- 12:39 am last night.

I had just finished watching a movie to get the day off my mind, a long walk home and getting chewed out, all I wanted to do was relax and recharge.

But my life has gone to hell, so you know that didn't happen.

There's banging downstairs on the back door, and i go to tell whoever it is to fuck off, when I see a very intoxicated, very exhausting Jessica "Jessie" Smith.

Joy.

I open the door, very much done with this grade-A, amateur fan fiction type bullshit.

"Jessica.. what the fu-"

She cut me off with incoherent slurs, saying my name and then trailing off. She stumbles into me and starts running her hands in my hair, mumbling "note-talk-we-yes"

"Dear god. You smell like a bar, you need to go home."

"Nn-Nnh!" She Shakes her head no- she probably won't remember half of this when she wakes up. She keeps insisting herself closer to me and I give in, bringing her inside and locking the door again (for safety), I push her up the stairs and to my room. I go to pull the mattress out of the closet when she just flops herself on my bed, I sigh. I'm so done with this,  I swear to god. She's the last person I want in my house, nevertheless my life. I sit down on the side of the bed and put my head in my hands, a headache forming. This- whatever this was, was something I would have to clean up in the morning. I groan and try to lay down, its better than having her drunkly crying or whining or something. I turn on the fan and lay down, taking my hoodie off. I think about the last two days, and part of me is happy I'm not alone.

But most of me wants to kill myself.

Jessica's POV- 5 am.

Cassie starts sitting up, sliding her hoodie on, and she shakes me. I sit there in shock, with a major headache. I can't remember last night. Cassie nudges me again, a little less gently.

"Get up. My dads gonna come here to wake me up soon. You need to be gone."

Shit. That's right, we have school. I sit up and get up, stumbling. She hands me my shoes and ushers me out.

I turn pink, and the thought crosses my mind and I have to know-

"Did we- you know...." I look at her,

"What-?!? No! Jesus, Jessica. Of course not. You came here drunk and crying and refused to leave." She whispers, rolling her eyes and pushing me out the back door.

"Ill.... see you at school...?" I ask, smiling awkwardly.

"Maybe." She says, shutting the door. I stand there for a second before making my way back to my place, shutting the door. I slide down it, and text Amber.

Jessie 🖤: hey Bichhhhhh. Feeling sick. Won't be in today. I love you, Amb. XOXO.

Amber 🤪: Okay, stay safe. I really hope we can work this out, Jessie. I don't want you guys at each other's throats.

I log onto my dads computer and shoot the school and email, before  going back to bed.

Cassie's POV: 6 am.

My dad opens the door, and I groan, curling up. He looks at me, and I frown.

"Dad, I feel sick. Can I stay home today?"

He frowns, and walks over to feel my head. He looks at me for a long time, before nodding yes.

"Cass, I love you. I don't know what's going on in your life- but you know you can talk to me. I'm your dad. I love you kiddo." He Walks out, and I lay back down, curling up and falling asleep. I wake up to a series of texts from teddy.

Teddy: where r you

We need to talk.

R you avoiding me?

Cassie this isn't funny.

We need to talk, Cass.

Are you at home?

I'm gonna drop by.

Answer me, Cassiopeia.

We need to talk about yesterday.

Why r you not answering me?!

Hey.

Ugh. I'm not entertaining him. After what he did yesterday the thought of seeing him makes me sick. Maybe he thought I was making an excuse or trying to get out- which I was, but I'm bisexual with a preference for women, and he needs to respect that.

No means no no matter what.

I go downstairs and see no one else is home, my mom probably went to the store and everyone else is at school, so. I have some much needed alone time.

I scrounge for the cold pizza and blueberry Soda, turn the TV on to the channel playing friends, and sit down with my junk food. After a few episodes, I clean up my plate and I hear a knock at the door. It's probably teddy, and I decide I better answer it than ignore him.

I walk and open it up, seeing the tall blonde with an uncharacteristic solemn look.

"Theodore." I say, closing the door and crossing my arms.

"Cassie. Don't do that. You know I care about you-" I roll my eyes as he talks. "What?"

"You care so much." I look up at him, a bit upset. "That's why you basically told me it was a phase. Really good friend, someone comes out to you and you insist that you can cure their gayness."

"That's not what I meant and you know it. You've been leading me on, if anything!"

" leading you on? I'm sorry. I'm sorry you're forcing your emotions on me and you're upset that they're not mutual. I don't want to see you right now Teddy." I turn around and he grabs my wrist. I ball my fist.

"Let go of me right now."

He moves his hands to my waist and pulls me to him, rough. Moving down my hips to-

"No!! Not until you see that-"

I turn around and punch him in the face, ripping my body away from him , I walk inside and lock the doors, I wait until his footsteps retreat and slump down it, feeling... wrong.

I curl up in a ball and cry.

I want my life back.

[georgies-boat]

The Bully’s Sister // Loser’s Club

Word Count- 1526

Summary- Making friends isn’t exactly easy for you, especially when you happen to be Henry Bower’s little sister.

Warnings; Language (but then again, it’s Richie?)

A/n; First imagine on this account! I absolutely love IT, and I’m watching it for the second time tonight. I’m unhealthily obsessed. 

Requested; Nope. Requests are now open!

-

You stood quietly next to Greta and your friends as you walked into the girls bathroom. You should've known what was coming, but you weren't thinking it through. As soon as you saw a closed stall, however, you knew what was going down. “Come on Greta, she's not worth our time.” You tried, but she only glared at you. Sighing, you stepped back and let them do their thing. That is, until you saw the trash about to be dumped on Beverly's head. “Okay, stop. This is ridiculous.” You said, pushing yourself off the wall and storming over to Greta.

“Why, Y/N? Why are you standing up for a loser like her?” Greta asked, looking you up and down. “Because she's nicer than you'll ever be.” You spat, and you looked over just in time to see trash get dumped into Bev’s stall. “Whatever, Y/N. I was only friends with you because of Henry, anyways.” Greta said, in a sickly-sweet voice. “Come on, girls.” She gestured for the other two to follow, which they did, and waved to you innocently. “Have fun with the losers, Y/N.” With that, they left.

“Hey, are you okay?” You asked, as Beverly walked out of the stall. “Yeah, thanks Y/N.” She said, looking at you cautiously. “It’s Beverly, right?” You asked, politely. “Yeah. Beverly Marsh. How’d you know?” She asked, confused. “I, unlike Greta, have the decency to learn people’s names.” You said, and you both laughed. “I have a feeling you and I are going to be great friends, Beverly Marsh.” You said, and she laughed. “Me too, Y/N Bowers.”

One Week Later

You ran downstairs, bidding your dad goodbye quickly, before he could give you a lecture on your brother’s disobedience, you left the house and grabbed your bike, getting away as soon as possible. Your dad wasn’t exactly fond of your brother, but he absolutely adored you. You never gave him much reason to scold you, always maintaining good grades, and doing as told. Unlike Henry, who struggled with instructions and preferred attending school for bullying, rather than actual work.

You biked to Beverly's house, waiting outside. You knew her dad wasn’t exactly fond of her friends, but he tolerated you. You were always very polite to him, and he was always on about how you were such a “good influence on his baby girl”, and how “those misbehaved boys” were not. It always made you a bit uncomfortable, since you’d never properly met the boys. This was why you waited outside.

Not 5 minutes later, Bev came bounding out of her house, running down the many flights of stairs and grabbing her bike. The two of you biked around town together, chatting about random topics, mostly how you were glad school was over. Bev suddenly lit up, her face showing excitement. “You haven’t met the Losers yet!” she exclaimed, out of nowhere. “The who?” You asked, confused. “My friends, come on! We’re meeting up at the quarry today, you should come!” She exclaimed, and you gulped. “I-I don’t know, Bev..” You said, nervously.

You both stopped your bikes, pulling over to talk a bit easier. “Why not? Don’t you wanna meet my friends?” She asked, a bit hurt. “No! I mean yes! It’s not that, Bev. It’s my brother.” You said, biting your lip nervously. “What? What about him?” She asked, curiously. “Everyone knows me as Y/N Bowers, Henry’s little sister. My brother probably bullies the crap out of them.” You stated, rolling your eyes at the thought. She stayed quiet, and you knew he did. “Exactly, Bev. It’s okay, you go ahead. I’ll be fine.” You faked a smile, trying to act happy. “Nice try, you’re coming anyways.” Bev decided, and you sighed. You weren’t going to win, and you knew it, so you simply followed her to the destination, nerves flooding your system.

You see, it wasn’t easy for you to make friends. Being the notorious Henry Bower’s little sister, made you an impossible target. Everyone thought you’d be like your brother, and never once gave you a chance. That’s why you were friends with Greta and her group. They knew you were popular around town, and if a Bowers was in her group, she’d be unstoppable. Now that she’d built up a reputation, it seemed she didn’t need you anymore. You were fine with that.

Much sooner than you would’ve liked, you arrived at the Quarry. Beverly’s friends, who apparently, were all guys, looked at you like you were crazy, and suddenly anger flashed in one of their eyes. You recognized him to be Richie Tozier. “What the fuck are you doing here?” He spat, and you flinched. “I-I, um, uh…” You stuttered, slowly backing away. “Chill, Richie, she’s with me.” Beverly said, grabbing your arm and pulling you with her. Frowning, you scanned the group. They all looked either pissed, or scared of you. “Bev, I told you this was a bad idea.” You whispered, and she shook her head. “You’re staying.” she instructed.

One of the taller boys came over, grabbing Beverly and pulling her off to the side. “How could you be friends with her, Bev? She’s Henry Bowers’ sister!” He whispered, angrily. He had curly hair. It took you a second to remember his name, Stanley Uris. He was one of the smartest kids in your grade. The smallest boy fumbled with something in his.. Fanny pack? He whipped out an inhaler, taking a big breath from it. “Are you alright?” You asked him, and he flinched at your voice. “Fine.” He said, his voice small. He jumped behind Richie, who glared at you fiercely.

“What do you want, Bowers?” Richie said, pushing past an arguing Beverly and stood right in front of you. “She’s probably just here to bully us, just like your brother. We don’t want you here, Y/N. Go home to your fake friends and your fucking dumbass idiot brother, and bother someone else, bitch.” He spat, and the group gasped. Richie was known to be blunt, but this was straight up rude. You were sick of it, but you weren’t going to fight. A tear slipped down your face, knowing most of what he said was the brutal truth.

Not many people would be honest with you, ever, because they were scared if they’d hurt you, Henry would hurt them. You two were very close growing up, but you stopped talking to him altogether when he started bullying kids. You tried to stop him many times, but you were shooed away. Still, people failed to treat you like a person, because they were scared of the things he could do.

“You know, Richie. I admire you.” You said, smiling sadly. This took him completely by surprise, him even taking a step back. “What?” He asked, confused. Clearly everyone else was curious, too, as they all moved in closer. “Not many people would be brave enough to stand up to me, especially not people who my brother typically target.” You said, wiping a tear. “I admire your bravery and wit. I’m sorry for everything my brother put you,” You paused, looking around at the rest of the group. “all of you, through. I hate how he treats you all, you’re all such great people, and an amazing group of friends. I’m not gonna lie, I’m kinda jealous.” You finished. The group was silent, Bev coming and giving you a quick hug.

“W-well, Y/N, w-would y-you want t-to s-stay?” Bill stuttered, and you smiled. “It’s alright, I don’t want to intrude.” You insisted, going to grab your bike. “Wait! I’m sorry, don’t leave. I’ll let you push me into the water!” Richie shouted, and you turned around, eyebrows raised. “You want me to feel better about you being mean, or you too scared to jump in yourself?” You teased, and Eddie, Bev, and Ben all laughed. Bill and Stanley refrained themselves, but were smiling. “I like her!” Eddie exclaimed, excitedly. “Please stay!” He said, pulling a ‘puppy-dog’ face. “Okay. Who can say no to that face?!” You exclaimed, earning a chorus of laughter from the group and Eddie’s cheeks to heat up.

You quickly threw off your dress, leaving you in your undergarments. Beverly copied you, and you two silently agreed to jump together. The boys gawked, and you only laughed at them. You grabbed Bev’s hand, running off and jumping without hesitation. “Holy shit!” You heard Richie cry, and you laughed as you disappeared under the water. The boys followed suit, and you were all splashing each other and enjoying the warm summer day.

That day, you (as well as Bev and Ben) became official members of the Loser’s Club. You finally met your best friends, and you were a proud loser. As soon as Henry learned that you began to hang out with the losers, he immediately shut you out, not that you really minded. You spent most of your time out of your house, mostly with the losers. You had finally escaped your brother’s shadow, and you couldn’t have asked for a better group of friends.

[bellarke-angel]

A Soldiers Story.

 Requested By Anonymous | Bellarke request-where bellamy is a celebrity and clarke is a soldier in the army and is asked to star in a film with him based on her experiences. They hate eachother at first but start to fall for eachother after their close time together. After the film ends she goes back into the army but gets injured after saving lincoln-her best friend- and bellamy takes care of her at his place and admits how they feel. -really long pls i love this concept x

Clarke straightened her jacket, shifting her medals so that they were straight and perfectly on show. This movie was about her story experiences of course, she had to show them she was a good soldier and not someone who left because she was scared. She left because of the effect it had on her, the effect it had taken on her person. She couldn’t handle anymore yet she was a well known soldier and she gladly took up the opportunity of creating a film; she wanted to make people aware of how a soldier feels, what they go through and she thought this would be a good way to show it.

But scanning her figure in the tall mirror her dressing room provided her with made her cringe, last time she wore this she was fighting for her country and now she was using it as clothes for her film. She couldn’t help but feel disappointed in herself. But the loud click of the door snapped her from her thoughts and she craned her neck to the door, it was her first day on set, she’d said hello to everyone but her co-star. He was going to play her friend Tyler that she had met during her training days. He would be with her for most scenes seem as Tyler and her had become best friends in real life, he helped her with her training, mostly the wall challenge, one thing she couldn’t accomplish.

A curly, dark-haired man stepped into the trailer, his eyes sweeping over her as though he was checking her out and she folded her arms across her chest, a glare crossing her face. “Can I help you?”

The man’s eyes snapped away from her body and to her eyes, finding one of her eyebrows raised at him and he cleared his throat, pulling a scowl.

“That’s not a very nice way to greet your co-star, now is it?” He responded, Clarke almost scoffed as her eyes swept over him. He was nothing like Tyler. She couldn’t help but judge the bad casting, but the man was snarky and she could just learn that by his first words to her.

“You look nothing like Tyler.” Was all Clarke said, turning back to the mirror and straightening her uniform, tucking a loose strand from her hat back in, she could feel his eyes on her as she looked in the mirror and she rolled her eyes.

“Well, I’m just that good at acting that they don’t care about my looks. You don’t exactly look like the girl yourself.” His words made her frown and she spun faster than expected and she stormed towards him, poking him hard in the chest, eyes flaring up at him. His eyebrows raised at her sudden burst of emotion.

“I am that girl!” She spat angrily, she couldn’t believe he hadn’t even bothered to learn about the film. The dark-haired man held up his hands in defense, but a smirk remained on his lips. “If you’d bother to have read any information other than the script about this film, then maybe you’d know that.”

“It does explain the anger and strength, I think I’m going to have a bruise.” He grumbled, rubbing when she prodded him and she sighed heavily and cussed under her breath. She hated him already.

“You’re not even in costume yet, we start filming in less than twenty minutes.” Clarke muttered, calming herself as she’d taught herself during the army. She looked at him, waiting for an excuse but he just shrugged.

“It’ll take me less than ten minutes, trust me. I’ll be on time. Always am.”

“I hate late people so if you’re late, I will ask for them to cast someone else.” Clarke threatened and brushed past him to head for the door, but he caught her wrist before she could leave, the action only making her rip her arm out of his grip.

“The name’s Bellamy Blake.”

“I’d say it was nice to meet you, but I’d be lying.” Clarke glared, walking out of the trailer, Bellamy watching her as she stormed off, if she’d had paid attention she’d realise that he was that actor she had admired before she had left for the army but her memory wouldn’t let her recognise that fact, so she didn’t care if she was being rude or not. Although she was sure she’d probably care later, her mother hadn’t raised her that way. He was pretty sure he disliked her, she was just a ball of aggression, something he’d spent a lot of time avoiding and now he was going to be stuck with it for who knows how long. He sighed and with a shake of his head he turned and walked out of her trailer and headed towards his own.

“Come on.” Bellamy said in a non-cocky voice unlike earlier in the trailer, he held out his hand as he held the script in his other hand, reading from it. “You aren’t going to pass training if you can’t get over that wall.”

“You realise if we get caught, they’ll probably postpone our training for a year.” Clarke spoke, she didn’t need a script, she knew exactly what she had said to Tyler that day. They had become friends as soon as they got to camp but they only became close friends when he decided to break training rules and train after hours. Bellamy smiled just as Tyler had that night, his hand still extended. It was as though Bellamy had been there that day.

“Then you’ll get another year of learning how to concur that wall,” He grinned, sighing and dropping his hand to the side, eyes skittering to the script then back to Clarke. “Fine, fail your training because you didn’t want to take a risk...”

“No...no...” Clarke sighed, running a hand through her hair which in this scene was down just as she remembered that night. “L-let’s do it.”

“Good.” Bellamy beamed, reaching forward and catching hold of her hand, eyes skimming the set that had been created for them, she’d tried to give the makers a detailed description of what the camp looked like and as far as she could see it looked perfect. Bellamy turned his head around the corner and glanced over his shoulder at her. “It’s clear.”

“Cut!” The director called, his voice booming throughout the set and everyone fell silent, cameras stopping, Bellamy and Clarke stepping out of their characters and into themselves again. The pair automatically dropping each other’s hand and standing separate, Bellamy even went as far as to wipe his hand on his top as though she carried a disease. She shot a glare at him then looked to the director approaching them. “Good. Well done, that was amazing, I really felt the chemistry. Now Bellamy, do you think you could do that without the script?”

Bellamy nodded beside her, “Of course.” The director was pleased with his answer and turned back to everyone else.

“Back in position, from the top!”

Once the filming of the wall scene was finally over, Clarke was exhausted, they’d actually brought one of the walls that they had used in her training camp. She’d forgotten how tiring it was to get over. Bellamy had to catch her at one point seem as she’d been persuaded she could do it without the harness attached. The moment his arms wrapped around her, she was off of him in seconds, muttering a thank you and trying again, she reminded herself of what Tyler had taught her. Step back, take a breath, run but not so fast and push. It had worked back then and when Bellamy spoke the words she ended up acing the wall perfectly. 

Although when Bellamy took his turn, something Tyler would have been able to do perfectly, he failed miserably. Clarke had to stifle her laugh, placing her hand over her mouth to help hold it back. Bellamy had caught sight of her though and snarled. 

“You were trained to do this, princess. This is my first try at doing this stupid wall so quit your giggling.” Clarke had glared at him when he called her princess, she was far from it. Clarke would’ve left him to it but she had to be in the scene when he did it, so she stayed. Cheering accidentally when he finally did it. Her cheeks heated at her sudden burst of happiness for him and she switched fast, she didn’t like him, so why was she happy for him? Clarke shook the thought out of her head and played her role.

She practically stumbled into her trailer afterwards, body aching and she was sweating from the heat, she couldn’t wait to curl up and fall asleep, they’d been filming all day and they’d only got at least five scenes, there were at least thirty. But she reminded herself that she was doing this for her fellow soldiers alongside herself. Clarke drifted asleep her thoughts on the events of today, the fact that she was happy for Bellamy, how he’d called her princess, that fact making her twitch with annoyance. She’d promised her mother she’d call her once she’d finished work but she was so tired she told herself she’d do it in the morning.

Clarke woke to a banging around in her trailer, for a moment she forgot where she was and tried to reach for a gun that was usually hid beneath her pillow but it wasn’t there and when her vision cleared she let out an annoyed growl.

“Do you ever knock?” She snapped as she saw Bellamy pouring the hot water from her kettle into a mug, only sparing her a glance although he had a grin across his lips.

“Morning, princess.” He simply said, stirring his mug, leaning against the counter watching as she glared at him through sleep-filled eyes, he chuckled lightly. “Cheer up, we’ve got another day of filming ahead.”

“Stop calling me that,” She demanded, but she was too tired to sound angry, she just passed him and made herself a coffee. Bellamy didn’t leave, he stood exactly where he had been and watched her, curiosity winning him over.

“So...who is this Tyler? Boyfriend?” He asked, his question making Clarke paused to look up at him for a couple of seconds, shaking her head and returning to her drink.

“You really didn’t read up on this role, did you?” Clarke hesitated whether to tell him but decided she had nothing to lose, she might as well let him know about his character. “Tyler was my first friend in training, we were close but no he wasn’t my boyfriend.”

“Let me guess, he had a girlfriend back home.” Bellamy met Clarke’s eyes for a second, pain striking through them before she snapped her attention back to the coffee. Bellamy suddenly felt sorry he mentioned a girlfriend, for some reason he felt bad for saying something that hurt the blonde beside him. “I didn’t mean to--”

“No, it’s fine.” Clarke cut in, lifting the edge of the cup to her lips blowing on the coffee to cool it down. “Yes, he had a girlfriend back home, but he told me he wasn’t happy with her...yet the moment we returned home...I was nothing.”

“That isn’t in the scripts anywhere.” Bellamy spoke, watching the girl intently, she sighed and glanced up at him.

“That’s because it was a long time ago, I stopped it before he could really hurt me. I’m sort of thankful you look nothing like him, having to look at someone who looked at him everyday might have killed me a little bit inside.” Clarke admitted, taking a sip of her drink, she didn’t look back up at him until he spoke again, a friendly smile on his lips.

“Well I bet he regretted crawling back into his girlfriends arms when he saw you stop caring...it was his loss, Clarke.” Bellamy said softly, Clarke looked up at him, it was the first time he’d called her by her actual name; except when they were in character of course. She couldn’t help but wonder if he was after something seem as he was being nice for once.

Clarke shot him a genuine smile for his kind words and furrowed her eyebrows. “Did you get assigned to my trailer?”

Bellamy realised how much he liked Clarke’s smile, the way the corner of her lips twitch until she finally decides if she wants to smile, the way her eyes soften, it was as though she wasn’t the ball of anger he’d first met. “No, I just didn’t have  kettle in my trailer so I thought I could borrow yours. I just happened to wake you up in the process.”

Clarke nodded, she was fine with it seem as she knew at some point she was going to want an extra hanger for her clothes and now she knew she could raid Bellamy’s closet for one. Clarke cussed and quickly placed down her coffee as she remembered she was supposed to skype her mother this morning, quickly racing into her bedroom searching for her phone. Grumbling when she found nothing.

“If your looking for your phone it’s on your sofa.” Bellamy called to her, finishing off his own drink and watching as she rushed around, taking up her phone and dialling her mums number, her eyes shifting to Bellamy, trying to think of a way to kindly ask him to leave but he seemed to understand and nodded. “Got it, I’ll see you later, princess. Don’t be late.”

Clarke called a thank you just before her mum picked up a bright smile on her face as she saw her daughter. Clarke couldn’t count how many times she’d skyped with her mum she was pretty sure it was more than she’d actually ever seen her in real life.

“Clarke, honey, finally...I was wondering if you were ever going to call me.” Her mother smiled brightly, glad to see her daughter.

“Hey mum.”

Clarke had already filmed numerous scenes already, she’d been working hard even though she didn’t really need to rehearse lines, but she was almost as tired as she was yesterday. Her mother had wished her well, excited to get updates on how the film was going. Bellamy had only been in a couple scenes so he had a lot of free time during filming and Clarke longed for that. But when someone crept up behind her as she sat on her set chair, she almost leapt forward but the familiar chuckle greeted her surprise, that smirk dancing across his lips as he watched her frown at him, an expression she gave him a lot but he was starting to find it adorable. He held out a little paper bag and what looked like a coffee, Clarke eyed it suspiciously seem as it was Bellamy. He could’ve done anything to it but he shook the food wanting her to take it.

“I haven’t poisoned it...although I considered.” Clarke rolled her eyes at his sarcasm and took hold of it and tilted her head and gave him a snarky smile.

“Why might the famous Bellamy Blake be getting me, a simple former soldier a scone and latte?” Clarke asked, an eyebrow arched and he simply grinned, sitting beside her on the chair that was almost identical to hers except it said his name rather than hers.

“Because what kind of civilian would I be if I didn’t get the hardworking princess her lunch, princesses have to eat too.” Bellamy replied, turning his attention towards the people setting up the next set, making sure everything was perfect for their next filming. “Besides, I gathered you’d need something to keep you looking alive during filming.”

“I really don’t understand why you call me princess, I’m nothing like one.” Clarke sighed, sipping the luke warm coffee. “But thank you for this.”

“Because you fit the description of one, pretty blonde hair always up like that disney princess...what’s her name? Cinderella? And those striking blue eyes, you remind me of someone filled with soft innocence, like a princess. I bet if you wanted too, you could sing too.” Bellamy grinned. Clarke felt her cheeks burn, she bowed her head and took a gulp of her coffee to hid it. She didn’t understand why his words had an effect on her when she was sure she hated him, but it was getting harder to remind herself that she didn’t like him because if he kept doing kind acts she was sure she’d end up becoming best friends with him. Something she didn’t think she could go through again. 

“Well I might disagree with you on that one. But hey, I can’t stop you.” Clarke smirked over at him, shifting to get comfortable on her seat. Bellamy seemed satisfied with her response seem as he didn’t say anything further and continued watching the people set up. That was until one of them stumbled over a prop and Clarke was glad she didn’t have any coffee in her mouth because as soon as she saw the man stumble and crash into the beside table, knocking off the lamp and it shattered onto the floor.

Clarke realised she wasn’t the only one in fits of laughter, Bellamy was laughing louder than she’d heard him laugh before, slapping his thigh as he shook with laughter. It wasn’t exactly the type of laugh you’d hear from a guy like Bellamy, it wasn’t heavy and rough, it was light and joyful, a sound she knew she could get used too, she hadn’t realised she’d stopped laughing and was just smiling over at Bellamy until he called her out on it.

“A picture might last a little longer.” He said in a playful tone, his laughing now faded and replaced with a half smile, Clarke realised what he was talking about and her cheeks reddened, her smile fading and she turned away in embarrassment.

“Sorry, I just...I didn’t think...well I mean I knew you laughed, it’s just you don’t seem to be someone who laugh at someone falling.” Clarke cursed herself for stumbling over her words, knowing it would only egg him on to increase her embarrassment. Bellamy let out the same chuckle he had earlier, one that he seemed to only use around her and she looked back at him even though she knew her cheeks were still bright, she hoped at least some of her make-up covered them.

“If you don’t laugh at that then you’d have to be cold-hearted and though I might be an ass, I’m far from cold-hearted,” Bellamy shrugged, “I’m surprised you laughed at it, your an uptight, cold faced little lady.”

“I am not uptight!” Clarke burst as soon as he said it, she hated being called that because she never used to be, before war she was wild and reckless, she took risks whenever she could and she would be up for whatever was thrown her way.

“I beg to differ, princess.” 

“Shut up, Blake.” Clarke grumbled, crossing her arms, her scone settled in her lap and her coffee on the floor beside the seat. Bellamy lifted his arm from where he’d placed it on the armrest, getting up when he saw the time.

“As much as a delight this has been, I have to go and meet my sister.”

“You have a sister?” Clarke didn’t know why she was so surprised, Bellamy just seemed like an only child, she knew she should’ve searched him up but she didn’t want to seem creepy, plus she’d rather be surprised about him than reading all about him online. Bellamy nodded, a sudden wave of softness washing over him as his eyes danced.

“She’s the only family I have...the only family I need.” He said it with such care that his words tugged at the strings of her heart. Her lips tugged into a smile as he spoke, clearing his throat realising he was being vulnerable. “She’d love you, you know. She loves a good war story every now and then.”

“Well maybe she could visit set before we finish filming and I could meet her?” Clarke suggested, actually wanting to meet the one person Bellamy seemed to care about. Bellamy’s eyes lit up at the suggestion and nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll uh, I’ll ask her when she’s free.” He smiled happily before giving her a curt nod. “I’d best leave now, if I’m late there’s a big chance she’ll kill for it.”

“Very well, I’ll see you later.” Bellamy nodding once more before heading off, Clarke watched him leave a smile drawn across her face, she knew she liked him, even though she was trying hard not to, he just seemed to creep into her life and make an impression. She was actually starting to think of him as a friend.

The weeks flashed by, filming was only a week or two from finishing, something a few weeks ago Clarke would be glad about, she’d come to love watching up with the greetings of her crew, the laughs that she had during takes when they made mistakes. But most of all she’d come to like Bellamy’s company, he was with her most days unless he took time off set to visit Octavia, the girl had swung by a couple of times, she was thrilled when she met Clarke, something Clarke hadn’t ever really been used to but the girl was a spitting image of her brother. The long dark almost black hair, and warm brown eyes, she could only think one thing when she met the girl; Lincoln would love her. She’d recently been calling Lincoln every time Bellamy was off set, he’d recently came back from the war over in Vietnam, he was the one that was there for her after the entire Tyler thing, but he wasn’t anything romantic, it was completely platonic, she liked to think of him as her brother.

But Clarke pondered on the idea of setting the two up, something she knew would end up good. Lincoln might have came across as tough but he was soft at heart, he would be perfect for Octavia, their personalities would be perfectly matched. But even though she and Bellamy had grew closer to the point where she missed him when he left for an hour or two, he shooed off the idea of Clarke setting up Lincoln and Octavia. He hated the idea of anyone with his little sister, to him she was still a child when in reality she was only a couple of years younger than Clarke. Clarke just rolled her eyes playfully, she’d make sure the two meet some way or another. Bellamy was sat across from her now, his thumbs moving rapidly on his screen as he messaged something, his mouth quirking into a smile and Clarke raised an eyebrow.

“Secret girlfriend? Or did your booty call just ask you over?” Clarke smirked teasingly, knowing her words would annoy him. He merely glared over his phone at her before returning to typing, not looking up as he replied.

“Trust me, princess. If I got a booty call, I wouldn’t be here right now.” Clarke grimaced at the thought of what else he’d be doing. For some reason she couldn’t stand the idea of Bellamy being with someone else, of course, she’d seen over the magazines that the crew brought in weekly that he was rumoured to be going out with someone called Raven. But she had no idea if it was true, she hadn’t ever seen him with her.

“So...who’s Raven? It’s just...you two are kind of all over the magazines.” Clarke shrugged, trying to say it as though she didn’t really are and she was just curious, but it had been bugging her for a while now. Clarke tucked a loose strand of her blonde hair behind her ear, placing the book she had in her hands down and staring over at him. Her question had made him slip his phone back in his pocket and a grin played on his lips.

“Don’t fret, apparently me and you are a new item too,” Clarke’s eyes widened in horror, what does he mean? she thought. Bellamy only chuckled at her expression. “Am I really that awful?”

Clarke broke her shock and shook her head quickly, she hadn’t meant to offend him. “N-no it’s just...what do you mean people think we’re an item too? They think you have a thing going on between both me and this Raven? Why would people think that?” 

Clarke was rushing her questions but Bellamy seemed to keep up, shrugging his shoulders. “Welcome to the film business.”

Clarke’s eyebrows knitted together, she knew she had to find the magazine that claimed she and Bellamy were together. Although she couldn’t help but be curious as to what it would be like to be with Bellamy...

She stopped herself before she could think any further and changed the subject.

“Are you not visiting Octavia today?”

“She’s went over to England, something about her boss needing her over there, I warned her she’d end up being back over here in a day but does she ever listen to me? No.” Bellamy sighed with the shake of his head. He couldn’t stand the idea of his sister being so far away. A giant ocean between them. “What about you? Isn’t your mum calling today?”

“No, she called me late last night, she’s going to be with Marcus the whole day so she might not be making a call.” Clarke had noticed how much time her mother had spent with that man and how much she spoke of him, she knew it wouldn’t be long until they end up becoming a thing and her mother would give her that conversation about this doesn’t mean I’m forgetting your father, he’ll always be in my heart. 

“At least you finally get to see her in person soon, then I can finally meet her seem as you didn’t let me last time.” Bellamy pretended to be mad but a smile was still plastered on his lips, at least until he saw Clarke’s sudden look of sadness. “What’s wrong?”

Clarke didn’t look up, she hadn’t told him yet. “I won’t be able to see my mum, at least not for another three months...”

“What? Why? Filming is almost over.” Bellamy frowned, not understanding. This time Clarke looked up, her eyes prickled with tears. “Clarke.” His voice was demanding now when she didn’t respond.

“They need me, Lincoln needs me.” Clarke’s voice cracked, it hurt thinking she wouldn’t see Bellamy for three months maybe even longer, or never. He’d easily forget about the blonde he filmed with once, he’d become close with other co-stars and act like she never existed and she knew that’s what hurt her the most because she knew she wouldn’t forget him. Bellamy’s face stilled, his expression blank. “I have to go back, Bell. I have to.”

Bellamy didn’t know how to respond, if anything he looked hurt. Clarke’s face crumbled, she didn’t want to go back but she couldn’t let Lincoln go out there alone, not when it was a war that she knew they’d kept hidden from the public, one more dangerous than she knew. The thought of leaving Lincoln to go in there alone without her to be his partner, it scared her, if he was hurt she’d blame herself. She had to go.

“When?” Bellamy finally said, his voice emotionless, watching her with burning eyes. Clarke inhaled enough to answer between sobs.

“As soon as filming is over Lincoln is coming to get me.”

Bellamy just stared, watching her silently for a moment. Before getting to his feet and glancing down at her. “We’d best get back to filming, we don’t need Phil getting mad at us.”

Clarke wasn’t exactly sure why he hadn’t shown any emotion towards her leaving, maybe he didn’t care about her as much as she’d realised she’d cared for him. Clarke’s heart clenched at the thought, she choked down a sob and got to her feet, wiping away her tears and following him. She figured he must’ve realised he could replace her within a couple of days, just as she thought would happen.

Bellamy hadn’t had a proper conversation with her since she’d spilt the news. Only muffled replies, he’d seemed to distance himself and as much as that had hurt, him not being there when she was about to leave practically felt like he was stabbing her heart himself. Clarke forced back her tears, her suitcases stacked beside her waiting for Lincoln’s cab to come and pick her up. Clarke had packed up a couple of days before so that she was ready, their camera man Tony had assisted her in carrying her bags out front, he even said goodbye and she barely knew him. Clarke did her best to put on a brave face and stared straight ahead.

“Thank god, I thought you’d left already...” She heard someone say breathlessly and when she turned her eyes fell on Bellamy, wearing his usual basic t-shirt and jeans but looking as good as ever. Clarke could feel her heart swell in her heart at his appearance, he showed up. “I-I couldn’t find you in your trailer and I thought...I thought you’d already left then someone told me you were out here, I ran as fast as I cou--”

Before he could finish Clarke had collided with him, wrapping her arms around his neck, usually she’d have her hair down because he preferred it that way but she’d stuck it up because she knew long hair didn’t exactly mix well with soldiers but she hated the idea of cutting it. Bellamy didn’t continue his sentence or push her off of him, he held her back just as tight, face buried in her neck, his breath brushing her neck as she clung to him.

“I didn’t think I’d see you.” Clarke spoke, just about managing to keep her voice steady. Bellamy pulled back slightly, but his arms still around her.

“I didn’t think I’d come either, I’d been distancing myself...I didn’t want to get hurt but I knew I couldn’t not say goodbye, I had to see you. Please don’t go back there, or at least tell me where it is?”

Clarke shook her head. “I can’t, you know I can’t. It’s a top secret Bellamy, if they knew I told you, a known person for having paparazzi around, then I’d be killed and not by the war.”

“You can’t just come into my life like that, Clarke. You can’t just get up and leave.” Bellamy urged, his voice strained but she could see the care in his eyes. “You could get hurt.”

“You’re the one that came crashing into my life, breaking into my trailer with that stupid smirk and that silly nickname,” Clarke laughed although tears were clear in her eyes. She hated goodbyes. “I’m going to miss you...”

Bellamy leaned forward, arms remaining around her and he rested his forehead against hers breathing in he scent, then meeting her crystal eyes. Always sparkling, he thought to himself.

“Believe me, princess. I’ll miss you as soon as you step into that cab.” He breathed, closing his eyes wanting to savour the feeling of her here in his arms, body close to his, something he won’t feel for three months. “I’ll be waiting.”

“You won’t find some other blonde to tease?” Clarke asked, a sad smile on her lips.

“I’ll never find another you, Clarke. Skype me if you can, I can’t go three months without knowing you’re alive and safe.” Bellamy made sure he was looking into her eyes when he said that, he meant it, he wouldn’t be able to go through three months of not knowing if she was alive or dead. Clarke gave him a small smile and nodded, a light blush dancing across her cheeks. Bellamy took advantage of the moment and closeness and moved in for a kiss, Clarke gladly met him in the middle, smiling into the kiss. It would’ve gone on longer if not for Lincoln’s car horn, it was time to go. Clarke pulled away with a groan, she really didn’t want to leave, not now. But she had to be at the location by the morning and if she didn’t leave now, Lincoln would have to leave without her. Bellamy caressed her cheek pressing a final kiss to her forehead. “Be careful.”

Clarke nodded, “Always am.” That was a lie, she wasn’t exactly the best at avoiding injuries and Bellamy had noticed that when she attempted her own stunts on set, it had failed several times. “I’ll see you again soon.”

“I’ll make sure of that.” With that Clarke backed up, a tear falling down her cheek and she quickly swiped it away and turned away from him. Lincoln had already packed her bags into the boot, he stood smiling happily at her. Her sad smile turned into a happy one when she laid eyes on Lincoln, she hadn’t seen him in person for almost a year. Clarke practically launched herself at him a happy laugh leaving her as she held him.

“Long time no see.” She smiled releasing him, aware that Bellamy probably didn’t like the look of the hug even though she knew Lincoln was just a friend. “Still have all your limbs attached I see.”

“I’m pretty sure you’d grown an inch or two, Griffin.” Lincoln grinned, giving her a gentle shove and she pushed him back.

“Or you’ve just gotten smaller, I wouldn’t be surprised.” Lincoln rolled his eyes playfully and glanced over Clarke’s shoulder to Bellamy. Lincoln had never been a fan but he headed over, extending a hand with a friendly smile.

“Lincoln, good to meet you.”

Bellamy eyed Clarke who smiled, glad Lincoln was making an effort with Bellamy. Bellamy saw her adoring look and gave in, shaking the mans hand, surprised by the grip that felt like a vice was crushing his hand. Bellamy nodded with a smile.

“Bellamy, it’s a pleasure...you’ll...you’ll watch over her won’t you?” Bellamy lowered his voice so that Clarke couldn’t hear and Lincoln’s expression softened and he smiled.

“I always do.” Lincoln stepped back to stand beside Clarke, “It’s time to go.”

Clarke gave Bellamy one last sad smile and clambered into the passenger seat, giving Bellamy a wave through the window. Bellamy watched them leave until they turned a corner and suddenly it felt like someone had taken a piece of his heart leaving a gaping hole that belonged to Clarke.

Gunshots rung out from every corner of the ground they led in, one had scraped her shoulder and she’d let out a cry of pain, yet she’d endured worse, still it hurt like hell. Lincoln was close beside her shooting at every figure that came storming in uniform towards them. These people were strong, good, well armed, Clarke was almost certain that they’d be overrun, a ton of their fighters had been either shot or killed already and seem as Clarke was one of their best shooters, she stayed. She’d fled from war before yet this time she knew she couldn’t leave her fellow soldiers, not when she knew they’d die. Clarke only stopped firing when she saw Lincoln shift from beside her, they’d been out there for two months, prepping for the battle and now that it was here they hadn’t realised just how hard it was going to be. Lincoln made the stupid mistake of trying to run for a shield which might as well be back in America, Clarke knew he wouldn’t make it. She’d leaped to her feet in seconds, and the gunshots seemed even louder over her yells to Lincoln yet he carried on, Clarke might’ve been small but her body was strong, the moment she threw herself onto Lincoln’s back they both fell to the floor, bodies landing in a thump. Bullets flew past their heads, Clarke could almost feel the force of them passing her and her stomach churned at the thought that the bullet almost went through Lincoln.

“Clarke, what are you doing?!” Lincoln yelled, his head down and they were just about shielded but the dust floating through the air, it was hard not to choke on it.

“Saving your ass! That bullet almost went straight through you!” Clarke cried over the noise, she didn’t want to alert the enemy that they were there so she started crawling towards the closest possible thing there was that could protect them. Lincoln followed beside her, breathing uneven as he moved. Lincoln rose his feet a little too soon and Clarke could see the silhouette of a soldier and she knew she wouldn’t be able to knock them both to the floor on time and she knew the bullet would hit Lincoln and that was something she couldn’t let happen. He was her best friend. Her people. Clarke jumped in front of the bullet just in time and it shot through her body, she couldn’t feel anything at first, only hearing the yells from Lincoln as he knelt over her, lifting her into his arms and calling on the only two radios they had, screaming at them for a medic, for someone to come and get Clarke. Clarke couldn’t remember much after that, she was pretty positive that she’d passed out the pain in her abdomen spreading through her body making her feel weak.  

Clarke wasn’t sure where she was at first, the thought making her try to move only to feel an agonising pain shock through her and making her collapse back down on the bed with a groan. She was shot. That was the last thing she could remember, and Lincoln’s cries. Lincoln. That motivated Clarke to move again, doing her best to ignore the pain but this time she felt a hand hold her down.

“No Clarke, you have to rest.” She recognised the voice as her mother’s, although it sounded rougher than usual. Clarke opened her eyes to see her mother’s stern stare, eyes watery and concern filling them. “The bullet almost cut through an organ, you’re lucky to be alive.”

“L-Lincoln? Where is Lincoln?” Clarke asked, she felt like a fire had burned in her throat but she didn’t care, she wanted to make sure her friend was ok, that she’d made sure he didn’t get hurt.

“Lincoln’s in the waiting room with Bellamy and his little sister.” Abby replied, giving Clarke’s hand a light squeeze. Bellamy’s name made Clarke’s eyes widen, Bellamy was here, she thought. Her heart rate suddenly picking up and the heart monitor picked up on it, beeping quicker that Abby almost prepared to do CRP.

“No, no, I’m fine mum, I’m fine.” Clarke said quickly, her cheeks blushed and she tried to settle her heartbeat.

“Your monit--”

“Can I see him? Bellamy, I mean.” She changed the subject fast but the subject had notified her mother of the reason for the monitor and she let out a small oh making Clarke’s cheeks burn even more. “I-I’ve missed him.”

“I’m sure you have.” Her mother smirked, catching on to her daughters reasons for wanting to see Bellamy. She didn’t press though, she knew it wasn’t good to press, she’d tell her about her and Bellamy in her own time. “He’s been worried sick about you since you left for the army, he found some way to keep in contact with me so that I could give him updates on how you were and when I told him about this, he was here in less than an hour, begging to see if you were ok.”

Clarke’s heart warmed at how much Bellamy showed he cared for her, even after two months of not seeing her and barely being able to call because of the bad signal. Clarke wasn’t sure she could get any redder than she already was. But her mother kept her smile.

“I’m glad he makes you happy, sweetheart.” Abby kissed Clarke’s forehead about to pull open the door to go and get Bellamy but Clarke smiled and called to her before she could leave the room.

“I’m glad Marcus makes you happy too, mum.” Abby smiled lovingly over to Clarke before giving a light nod and exiting the room only for moments later Bellamy burst in, worry swarming his expression. He grabbed a hold of the chair her mother had sat on and pulled it impossibly closer to Clarke’s bed, hand intertwining with hers as his thumb stroked the back of her hand.

“I thought I told you to be careful?” Bellamy managed a small smile, one that made her want to imagine him with that playful, teasing look he used to always give to her but it remained sad. 

“What kind of soldier would I be if I was careful? Besides, maybe you should tell Lincoln to keep an eye out for people with guns, he didn’t seem to get the memo.” Clarke smiled, trying to make Bellamy smirk but it didn’t work. The concern remained. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Try having to not look worried every second of the day when your filming, it’s pretty hard. Plus I’ve been getting complaints from Octavia for being so mopey,” Bellamy sighed, “I missed you too, I’m not glad I only get to see you earlier because you are hurt, but I’m glad to see you.” 

Silence hung between them for a few seconds as they tried to figure out what to say, Clarke was trying to think of something humorous to make Bellamy smile, whilst Bellamy tried to think of a way to express to her how truly worried he was.

“Clarke, I thought you were going to die...” He mumbled, not meeting her eyes but his hold on her hand remained. “When I finally got here t-they said you’d almost hit an important organ and for a second my mind blanked. I thought I was going to lose you. And I know we haven’t been together all that long, hell we’ve only shared one kiss but god, I love you so much, princess. I thought I wouldn’t have and chance to tell you and I do so I’m taking it.”

Clarke knew she shouldn’t be moving but she shifted slightly so that she was closer to Bellamy, a broad smile stretched across her face as she replayed his words in her mind, he loved her. Bellamy Blake loved her. Clarke felt like she might just faint. Clarke didn’t need to second think it, she loved him too. She knew it the moment her heart started speeding up when he walked in the room or when he called her princess.

“I love you too.” Clarke beamed, she couldn’t lean forward but Bellamy understood what she wanted and he made the move, closing the distance between them and his lips pressed against hers, moving in sync until they had to break for air, but smiles were plastered on their faces and Clarke was sure they weren’t disappearing any time soon.

[angieinstem]

Reflecting on my summer experience with INROADS

If you’ve spoken to me this summer, you would know that I’m a part of INROADS, which is a national organization that is dedicated to helping and developing underserved youth by placing them in corporate environments and supporting them throughout their experience. I learned about INROADS through Jose Santiago, the New York/New Jersey regional manager. He found me on LinkedIn. At first, I was thinking that it was probably some random person trying to get me to work for their company (don’t we all receive those messages????). After some research, I looked into INROADS online and realized it was a legitimate organization that I knew I wanted to be a part of. But in the midst of my Fall semester, I definitely didn’t have enough time to complete their application, attend a virtual prep session, or make time for a mock interview. I pushed their application to the side for a while to prioritize my academics.

In January, INROADS reached out to me again, this time, with a little more convincing that I should apply. “We’re going to forward your resume to Harris and Lockheed Martin, but we need you to complete a prep session and mock interview.” Done and done. By the end of January, I had three interviews, two offers, and had accepted one to work at Harris Corporation in Melbourne, Florida. Who would’ve known that one LinkedIn connection was going to get me a summer internship at a company like Harris?

Amongst announcing my affiliation with INROADS on social media, I’ve been able to connect with plenty of professionals and scholars that are also INROADS alum. I even found out that my own sister is an INROADS alum. The INROADS family is ACTUAL family! Even though I am a little bitter that my sister failed to inform me about the organization earlier in my college career...

Fast-forward, to my first day of work this summer, where I was able to connect with the 20 something other interns that Harris had hired through INROADS. Though I am one of three women, I was surrounded by Black and Latinx excellence - and that was enough for me. On my first day of work, I met some executives at Harris, like Jim Girard, who is also on the board of directors for INROADS, two INROADS alum that are now working at Harris, and the CEO of INROADS himself, Mr. Forest T Harper. Though it was a short panel discussion, by the end I felt that I would be supported at a company like Harris. I felt that Harris was looking to hire and retain people like me - not just short Latinas with curly hair, but students that are often overlooked for the Dylans and Michaels in the applicant pool. Students with just as much, if not more, potential than students who are the majority in STEM.

Side-bar: I need to stop saying/inferring I’m a sub-par candidate. At this point, I need to remind myself that I’m really not at a disadvantage anymore. By May 2018, I’ll have two bachelors of science degrees in science and engineering. Sure, I may be a minority in the STEM fields, but I surely am NOT disadvantaged. With a GPA above 3.0, plenty of work experience, and tons of extracurriculars, I am an outstanding candidate for jobs or a PhD program. I am not sub-par.

Fast-forward, again, to this weekend: the INROADS Leadership Development Institute (LDI). This weekend was definitely a lot more packed than I expected. At the beginning, I was a little annoyed about having to attend a mandatory conference - similar to how I feel when I have mandatory anything, but there always comes the moment, maybe in the beginning, sometimes in the middle, or maybe even at the end of an INROADS event where I realize that I’m there for a reason and that everything INROADS does for me is going to help me out in the long run.

It started out by waking up at 5AM to carpool to the airport with some of my fellow interns. We met up with another small group of interns at the airport and traveled together. 

Side-bar: One thing that I really cannot thank INROADS enough for is for fostering such a strong community between the interns. Not only do I have a new group of friends/peers, but having this group of friends definitely helped to shape my experience this summer. Without INROADS, I don’t think I would’ve networked with as many interns at Harris and I would’ve had a rough time out here on my own. Maybe I would’ve met some more interns in my building, been more active in employee resource groups, or made some friends at CrossFit, but since I had my little “clique” thanks to INROADS, I really saved time on the search for community.

Upon landing in Atlanta for a connecting flight, we had a blast hauling ourselves over to another terminal with about -10 minutes to board our flight. On our flight, we saw some of the other interns we’ve met during the INROADS New Intern Orientation (NIO) and Intern Development Day (IDD). Again, more familiar faces making a social situation that could’ve been really anxiety-inducing a lot more calm and collected.

Upon landing in DC, we were greeted by an INROADS staff member and taken to our hotel for the conference. I definitely knew in my brain that about 500 interns from across the country were going to be there, but WOW was I surprised to see so many bright, young adults when I arrived. Instantly, I was shaking hands, smiling, and laughing along with some new INROADS family. It felt so natural and unforced to connect with other interns and even some INROADS staff members. I felt that I was amongst folks who were accepting, loving, supporting, and willing to help. It’s been awhile since I’ve felt something like this. It felt like home, even though my real home is approximately 1,457 miles away from where I’m sitting.

The first night was relatively calm. We had dinner and had an award ceremony for the interns that went above and beyond their INROADS internship. Some of these interns have committed themselves to community service outside of their internship, sent in a video about what being an INROADS intern means to them, or were just so outstanding that they received the “Intern of the Year” award. I was immensely proud of the folks that received awards that night. I’d even say that I was inspired by my fellow INROADers. If they could do what they’re doing, then what was stopping me from doing the same? I felt more committed to making myself better and to do more in my extracurriculars. I may not know what that means or how that will manifest just yet, but I’m excited to find out.

The next morning, we woke up bright and early for our first breakout session at 8:15AM. I knew I had to take advantage of the workshops/breakout sessions, because as one of the facilitators mentioned, this event was ~free~ for INROADS interns to attend. And as I’ve definitely ranted about in the past, other conferences cost an actual arm and a leg to attend. Without departmental support, support from OP or Point Foundation, I don’t think I would’ve been able to attend any of the conferences I’ve attended in the past. I could rant about how inaccessible and exclusive conferences are, especially ones for engineering, but I’ll save that for another blog post. 

I was thankful for attending the INROADS LDI, because I was getting an above and beyond conference/networking experience for little to no cost.

The first breakout session I attended was with Ms. Natalia Rodriguez, who literally became a newfound inspiration for me by the end of the session. This fierce Latina has done it all, from putting herself out there to gain an internship she wanted, to obtaining the prestigious Helen Fellowship. Natalia taught us about our digital footprint, which is a buzzword we always hear when it comes to talking about our future plans. She also taught us how to create our own website and how to boost our websites so that way it comes up earlier in a google search. We also did this really short activity which involved us googling ourselves . Did you know you should google yourself at least once every two weeks? It’s very interesting what you’ll find, especially if you have an uncommon name or numerous achievements. (Or really bad things that you probably don’t want your future employer to notice… #yikes)

This workshop in particular had me thinking about how I want my digital footprint to look and how I could control my presence on the internet to the best of my ability. Something I brought up during the workshop was disclosing in a biography or online at all that I identify as LGBTQ or that I have an LGBTQ scholarship. If you dig deep enough, you’ll find my LGBTQ photo campaign or videos of my girlfriend and I on Refinery29. While I put my identity out on the internet, I’m still deciding if it’s something I want them to find out on their own or to be upfront about it. It’s basically a tug-o-war between wanting to be my complete self at work and wanting to make sure I’m not closing off myself to any companies. Most of the advice that’s been given to me is that I shouldn’t be working for a company that doesn’t support me. While I wholeheartedly agree with that statement, that “If you don’t want me over my sexual orientation, then you’re not worth my talent,” but I’m still worried about losing out on an opportunity because one person wouldn’t want to hire me due to my sexual orientation.

The next workshop, was a Mars Rover Challenge led by Ms. Nikki Gaskin-Capehart. Group leaders/CEOs were chosen from each table. I was the group leader/CEO (and the only woman group leader, I noticed) and different personalities were assigned to us. The competition consisted of many different tests, including creating a cost-efficient prototype, testing the prototype (speed and durability), and rating the leader. As you could probably guess, my team came in first place! I had the cooperative leadership role, since our table was the ‘green’ table. I had to make sure everyone had a role, all voices were being heard, all ideas were tried, and that I had appointed the folks with the most ability to take on certain tasks. I didn’t feel like I was entirely “acting” in this leadership role, because I identify with most of the qualities of a cooperative leader, but I sure did notice that a small part of me was acting.

For me, I feel that my leadership style is cooperative, with a small mix of traditional. Traditional leadership, in this setting, was defined as the source of power coming from one person, being “bossy,” and “telling” people what to do, rather than letting them do whatever. Now, before y’all give me a side-eye, let me explain. As an everyday person in STEM, I’m definitely going to face traditional leadership - this is until the millennials outnumber the baby boomers. I’d rather go into a workplace prepared for traditional leadership, even though I’m hoping it’ll be cooperative leadership. I’ve noticed in my high school, college, and even my current internship experience, that any time a woman asserts herself, she is deemed as “bossy,” “mean,” “stuck-up,” and “unattractive.” For me, I try to find myself at a perfect medium, which is being assertive. Being assertive is right in the middle on the passive to aggressive scale, or the place I usually skip right past as I slide my way over to aggression. Anyone that knows me knows that I am very outspoken and I don’t take crap from people, especially because I speak up when I feel uncomfortable or if someone is being racist/sexist/homphobic/etc. For this reason alone, I can sometimes be read as “bossy” and “mean,” even when I feel that I’m being as nice as I can, while also having a devil on my shoulder whispering to “drag” my coworker for the problematic thing they just said. I also refuse to apologize for everything and I don’t use words in e-mails such as “just,” because it suggests a type of inferiority from women. 

In a way, I feel that my comfort in my gender identity, my confidence, and my academic/professional background can feel threatening to those around me. But I’ve finally learned that it’s not my problem - it’s theirs.

I’m going to skip ahead to talk about the True Colors 2.0 Workshop I attended in the late afternoon. As I’m sure most folks that know me and are familiar with True Colors, I am a proud orange person! This means that I’m dedicated to my work, risk-taking, spontaneous, and all the fun traits. I do know that being an orange doesn’t mean that I am stuck in my orange box and can’t have traits from other colors, but it does really help explain how others can effectively communicate with someone with my personality. I learned that when it comes to dealing with other “colors” (blue, green, gold), my communication style needs to adjust. We did this rather humorous activity, where we had to explain to another color how to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. We had to make directions for gold, so that meant, being very specific, detailed, and not missing a step.

As a reflection, I wanted to speak about the gold types, particularly the ones that were in the room. For me, I was the farthest thing away from gold, until it came to how I function and organize myself. I see myself as risk-taking, spontaneous, and a non-conformist. Personality-wise, I feel that gold folks in life are the people I clash with. Words like conservative and conformist are some of my least favorite, especially when talking about a workplace. As a woman of color, I feel that me just being in a STEM workplace is an act of nonconformity. Back in the day, women and people of color were a completely “new” thing in the workplace, similar to how women wearing pants were considered non-conformist. It surprises me that so many people of color found themselves as a “gold.” I wonder if it has something to do with how corporate America has deemed as the “standard” for professionalism and how that intertwines with  respectability politics. Maybe it has to do with how they were raised. I have lots of questions and viewpoints, but again, this discussion will be a topic of another blog post!

Also, one person from the gold team commented that they would be the most successful group because they’d make the most money. It’s always been interesting for me to notice when people equate success with wealth. It’s even more interesting when people equate wealth with happiness. I know for me, I’m not going to chase the money - otherwise I’d be trying hard to get a full-time offer from my current company or searching for another company to pay me more. While I know I can survive and thrive in a corporate environment, I don’t necessarily think corporate America is where I’m supposed to be. Academia and higher education, I believe, is calling my name. INROADS has really made me question if I can feel fulfilled in a corporate environment, so, like the topic of respectability politics, I will definitely be making a blog post about this later.

We also had a number of breakout sessions, where the speakers were absolutely phenomenal. As I do remember each speaker and took elaborate notes, I wanted to reflect on something a fellow INROADer asked. He asked about how organizations like INROADS, that are created to help underserved students thrive, give a false sense of reality. Similar to attending an HBCU or HSI, being at an INROADS event feels like you’re surrounded by people “like you.” I’m always seeking to be around people like me, whether it is Latinx people, people of color, women, or LGBTQ people.

He elaborated on the fact that these organizations/institutions might give us a false sense of reality because we’re surrounded by like-minded individuals and then eventually have to head back into a workplace or environment that is predominately white, male, able-bodied, cisgender, straight, conservative, etc. I must say that while I heavily agree with his sentiment and understand where he was coming from, especially being a kid from the “NYU bubble,” but at the same time, I’ve never felt a false sense of reality when I’ve been surrounded by people “like me” succeeding. 

For me, people of color (specifically Black and Latinx people), women, and LGBTQ success IS my reality.

These were just some of the biggest moments of reflection I wanted to share. I most definitely left this conference with a new mindset and more unregistered contacts than my phone could handle. I think for me, the most solid advice I received was from women in the workforce that told me to continue my education as far as I could. Lots of the women shared that they regretted not continuing their education and prioritizing other things like money or family. I felt a sense of ease, like I was able to catch my breath amongst the stress that is researching PhD programs, reaching out to potential advisors, and studying for the GRE.

To wrap this up, I wanted to mention how even though I am an extrovert and an ‘orange’ person, I have been struggling for quite some time to learn how to push myself out of my comfort zone to network, initiate conversation, and ask questions. I have to give myself kudos for pushing myself out of my comfort zone during the INROADS LDI. I was able to connect with so many amazing scholars and professionals. Without that push I gave myself to step outside of my comfort zone, I don’t think I would’ve had such an invaluable experience at the INROADS LDI. 

At the end of the day, a closed mouth doesn’t get fed and I have nothing to lose by saying “hi,” asking to connect with someone, or requesting a follow-up. The worst thing someone could say is, “no.”

The best part of the experience, for me, was Friday evening when we were inducted into INROADS and officially became INROADS alum. As we all stood up, took our pledge, and received our pins, I couldn’t help but feel a strong sense of pride. I was proud of myself, for achieving so much in my four years at NYU, securing a competitive internship, and for choosing to surround myself by excellence. I was proud of my fellow INROADers, for their dedication, excellence, and achievement. I felt proud to formally become a part of an organization that’s done so much for me in such a short amount of time. I cannot wait to continue giving back. That’s the INROADS way.