#even when it's awkward and weird and destined to blow up in his face

[glorious-spoon]

eddie moved to los angeles because shannon was there and then proceeded to not call her for months until he had an airtight excuse, eddie and buck's relationship works so well in part because he has never had to actually ask buck for anything, eddie is now moving back to texas instead of attempting to have one (1) single conversation with his son about what he wants, because no one has ever been as scared as eddie diaz of showing someone his bleeding desperate need and having them say, sorry, no.

[raifenlf]

Why Loki’s Sylvie Is A Mary Sue

So I am firmly in the camp that Sylvie on the Loki series was/is a Mary Sue.  The last episode made me feel better and like maybe the show was doing a thing where they were faking you out that she was a Mary Sue only to show she was actually sort of a bad guy and I liked that.  But all the recent interviews make me think the show wants to go back to her being a Mary Sue.

But I feel like when I call her out for being a Mary Sue people tell me what are you talking about, she’s not a Mary Sue, bad things happen to her, etc.  But that doesn’t actually make her not a Mary Sue.  

Also, before we start, I know some people find Mary Sue sexist.  But I personally use the term for guys and girls. I don’t use the term to belittle women.  I use the term to criticize a poorly written character.

And I know Mary Sue is often used to describe fanfic characters.  But to me, this series is kind of like a fanfic because the writers took a character who had been in canon MCU material for ten years and then created characters around that character.  So, I kind of review it like I would a fanfic.  It’s very different than if the writers had created a brand new show with all of their own new characters.

Anyway, if you are not totally familiar with the Mary Sue term, then check this out:

I know the term Mary Sue probably means different things to different people.  But I have always used these guidelines when I write my own fanfic to make sure my characters never come off as a Mary Sue.

This article really gives you a full scale of what a Mary Sue is.  If you start reading it, you’ll immediately see why Sylvie is.  But I’m going to take out the parts that most fit Sylvie just to highlight why I believe she is a Mary Sue.  I apologize for this being so long.

Mary Sue Character Traits

Personality

Erm... what personality? The typical Mary Sue doesn't have one per se, because she isn't meant to be a character; rather, she's an entity by which the author makes cool stuff happen.

I feel like that is Sylvie in a nutshell.  She doesn’t have a personality.  I feel like even though she ate screentime, I still don’t really know her at all.  The writers love to say she’s badass.  That’s not a personality.  

Sometimes when I am writing stories for fun and creating new characters, I like to take surveys as my fictional characters.  Like the kind of surveys you’d see in a magazine, like personality types, what’s your dating style, etc.  I figure if I don’t know what my character would do in any of those situations, then I need to keep working on my character.  And if I was trying to fill out a survey pretending I was Sylvie I would have no idea what to answer because she doesn’t have a personality.  She’s just “cool”.

What little personality a Mary Sue has isn't as important as how other characters react to it. No matter how shy or socially awkward Mary Sue is supposed to be, other characters will be inexplicably drawn to her

This is so Sylvie.  Loki falls in love with her...why, exactly?  He falls in love with her in the big Nexus event moment...why?  Because she had a tough childhood?  Mobius spends like two seconds with her in a car and goes from hating her to saying she’s his favorite Loki.  For. No. Particular. Reason.

She's extremely persuasive; everyone finds her opinions to be better than their own

She enchants Hunter B-15 and then immediately Hunter B-15 makes it her whole entire life mission to back Sylvie up.  

And occasionally she'll be a complete asshole...This can manifest itself in several ways...The author wants to write a badass but doesn't know how. This leads to a character who mistreats everyone around her and is never called out on her abrasive, casually abusive behavior.

Sylvie talked down to Loki and treated him like garbage for all of episode three, but it was never portrayed as a bad thing and we never got any impression Sylvie later felt bad for the way she treated Loki

The author doesn't know how to hold back the character, meaning that she will succeed at practically everything. This means that when she encounters rules or authority figures who would otherwise prevent her from doing what she wants to do, she rolls right through them (and they praise her for her "boldness" in defying regulations). If a bad guy is violent and aggressive, she can beat him by being more violent and aggressive (with all that entails). It's impossible for her to go overboard because she's protected by Protagonist-Centered Morality.

Sylvie is shown as a kid to immediately be able to grab a Tempad and run away.  And she can kick ass way better than Loki, for no known reason.  She is always able to fight back against the TVA when they attack her.  And she can kill lots of innocent TVA agents but it’s okay because TVA bad, Sylvie good.

Skills

She will always be superior to the canon characters, regardless of what canon has established they can do or whether it makes any sense.

Whose skill was needed to defeat Alioth?  Sylvie’s.  Of course.  Sylvie needed to teach Loki her skills in order for him to succeed (!).  And again, she is literally called the superior Loki.

Relatedly, there's no effort to her skills. She never actually trains or learns anything to become more powerful; she just wins the Super Power Lottery, or is a freakish natural learner, or is just Inexplicably Awesome

We’re told Sylvie literally taught herself magic.  She literally taught herself to enchant people.  That. Makes. No. Sense.  Like, I have so many questions.  Like, why would it even occur to her to teach herself that?  And how????????????  This is really lazy writing.

Canon Character Relationships

Mary Sue is often designed to hook up with another character, often as a form of Wish Fulfillment. This isn't that bad in and of itself (okay, it is kinda weird), but Mary Sue accomplishes this without any sense of realism. She just grabs her lover's attention straight away, and their relationship will never face any obstacles or tension; it's true love from the start and nothing else. The biggest giveaway is if the love interest is explicitly the author's favorite character, and she essentially "cures" him of all the angst that ails him (at the expense of his characterization).

Yeah, so...this one should be pretty obvious to anyone who watched the show.  Loki literally falls in love with Sylvie immediately, and then he suddenly turns from “villain” to “hero” just because of loving her.  And this was definitely at the expense of his characterization.  And Loki just knows he falls in love with her.  There’s not even any moments of hmm what do I feel for this person?  It’s just true love, immediately.

She will be related to a canon character in some way. This (marginally) helps explain such phenomena as her being a Copy Cat Sue and other characters accepting her so easily.

Sylvie is a Loki variant.  They use this to help explain why Loki is drawn to her and why their falling in love immediately “makes sense”.

Most characters give her more heed than they normally would. The good guys never stop praising her

Seriously, it was so over the top and OOC for Loki to gush over her.  He literally tells her she’s amazing.  They don’t even make it subtle.

Characters' previously established personalities change in reaction to her. Proud, arrogant gimps suddenly acknowledge her superiority in everything. Reckless youths will listen to all her advice. Responsible leaders will defer to her instead. Villains will obsess with her to the detriment of all else. Extremely competent characters will become stumbling buffoons who require her help to do anything. Sweet, mild-mannered characters whom the author doesn't like turn evil and insult her. They all become unnaturally focused on her in some way.

Again, Loki’s whole personality changed in reaction to her.  He became a buffoon who needed her help to enchant the Alioth because of course he couldn’t do anything without her!  Hunter B-15 goes from doing whatever the TVA said to fighting the TVA just because of Sylvie.

Story Elements

Mary Sue is without exception a single-person Spotlight-Stealing Squad. The entire story hinges on her existence; if you removed her, there would be no story. 

Sylvie undoubtedly drove the whole story this season.  It all became about HER meeting the TVA heads because of HER trauma.  Loki’s life was only saved at the beginning because the TVA was trying to capture HER.  And SHE was the one who started the whole multiverse (!).

Mary Sue is The Chosen One, even if the setting already has one. There are many ways she can accomplish this: she can be a Sailor Earth type who "shares" the position with the canon hero; she may be vaguely "destined to help the destined one fulfill their destiny" (i.e. do all the work except the final blow so that the prophecy is still technically correct); or the canon hero may be revealed to be a Fake Ultimate Hero all along. Being the Chosen One doesn't necessarily involve her being a God-Mode Sue, especially as authors become aware of the phenomenon and try to avoid it, but it does make her critically important to the world and allows her to continue stealing the spotlight without the "god mode" label.

HWR wanted Sylvie to come with Loki in the end, like she was chosen all along right alongside Loki.  Like one of the most important characters in the entire MCU is now this character who we only met a few episodes ago.

Most Sues have an unusually Dark and Troubled Past. It's often used to create a Sympathetic Sue, but any type of Sue can have one

They tell us, over and over, how hard Sylvie’s life was because she was kidnapped by the TVA in order to create sympathy for her.

She almost never does anything wrong. In the rare instance that she does, it's usually; (a) a way for the author to disclaim her being a Mary Sue by introducing a single imperfection (that has no bearing on anything anyway), and (b) designed to show her smarts by making her feel instant remorse, and she'll be Easily Forgiven anyway:

So this one hopefully will not come true, as a lot can change between now and when the show is taped. But if the show goes on the way the behind the scenes team is talking, Sylvie immediately felt remorse for betraying Loki, and Loki has already forgiven her and is desperately looking for her.  Ugh.

Alternatively, she is more than capable of doing something wrong, be it in general moral terms or something that goes against whatever code she abides by, and she maybe even frequently does so, but don't expect the other characters or the narrative to ever acknowledge or comment on it in any real capacity. If the other characters do call her out, expect them to be treated like they're the problem for daring to criticize her at all.

Mobius calls her out for killing people, but Sylvie immediately says he’s a bad person and then Mobius agrees, because, of course.

She will often suffer from Special Snowflake Syndrome; i.e., she has a trait or backstory that sets her apart from her group or race.

She is the only female Loki, thus making her the special one among all the Lokis in episode five.

Presentation

In visual media, the camera just can't stop staring at her.

The camera would follow her in fight scenes rather than Loki.

Mary Sue Tropes

Okay, so there are specific Mary Sue tropes that Sylvie is.  One of those is Copy Cat Sue, which I think was referenced before.

Copy Cat Sue

A lot of fanfic writers...start to write something because of their passion for this character, but they find something about the character that doesn't mesh well. Maybe they're the wrong gender or are otherwise not close enough to the author's expectations...In any case, rather than put them through the Possession Sue process, they just get a Clone-O-Matic™ and out pops a Copy Cat Sue...the character might be intended as a replacement for the canon character, but without whatever icky traits the author hates. They'll then rob the spotlight, prove the canon character to be unworthy of his/her position, and either relegate the character to obsolescence or, perhaps, even remove them entirely.

Sylvie is basically a clone of Loki, she is a variant.  But she absolutely robbed the spotlight of Loki’s, and they literally call her the superior Loki.  I mean, they are literally not even being subtle about this.  And there was a feeling by myself (and a lot of other viewers) that Sylvie might ultimately replace Loki in the MCU. 

Black Hole Sue

Much like a black hole, this is a Mary Sue who "sucks in" the plot and characters to her. Characters will behave outside their personalities, logic will be defied, and rules will be broken for her sake.

Sylvie really does suck up all the plot and Loki definitely behaves outside of his personality just to fit the Sylvie show.

Jerk Sue

A Mary Sue who is mean or maybe even cruel, but are still treated as an ideal person.

Once again, Sylvie is basically a jerk all of episode three, but you’ve got Loki falling over himself to call her amazing in just the next episode.

Relationship Sue

A Mary Sue who exists to be the perfect mate for a specific character...this character has everything in the plot conspiring to enforce this One True Pairing...in Fanfiction, they are the perfect beloved of a canon character.

They literally have Mobius speculate that Loki falling in love with Sylvie is so extraordinary that it causes an entire Nexus event, that’s how huge this One True Pairing is (!).  And Sylvie is the love interest of Loki, the only character who had been around before the beginning of the series

TLDR: Sylvie has all the tropes of a classic Mary Sue character.  So calling Sylvie a Mary Sue isn’t being sexist or just randomly hating on the character.  If you use common Mary Sue characteristics to examine the character, she just has too many of these characteristics to ignore.

[bunnysuit-femboy]

Bad Idea

Eren x Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: Penetration, Cream pie, Cheating, Unprotected sex

Summary: Despite being a seemingly healthy relationship, Eren can’t stop himself from staring at you. Now, you’re finally getting to know Eren’s fascination in your body and the thoughts that keep him awake at night.

Notes: I don’t condone cheating, I just thought of this and couldn't stop myself from writing it...

You believe Eren’s most prominent feature is his eyes. They’re a beautiful sea-green that’s almost split between the blue of the sky and the green of the grass. His eyes are so wide and full of interest when you catch them staring at you no matter where you are and what you’re doing.

You’ve always noticed Eren’s eyes being on you, his gaze is an accessory that always compliments your outfit. You’ve felt the weight of his eyes when you’d walk into the kitchen and he was in there with your step sister, Historia. Or when you’d doze off on the way to the beach and could feel him watching you from two seats over. And even when he’s sitting with Historia while you watch a movie, holding her hand under the blanket while he watches you on the other side of the couch.

It’s odd how much Eren likes to look at you, considering he’s dating your older sister. But, you can’t say you hate the weight of his eyes either. Every time you walk into a room and you see him in there, you wait for the moment he notices the new guest is you. You wait for that split second moment before Eren looks up at you, and then never looks away. Feeling the weight of his eyes was your favorite feeling, the taboo of the entire encounter making your heart race and your panties wetten.

So, why were you pretending to be surprised when you felt him staring at you across the campsite?

You were lounging back in a fold-up chair around the firepit, watching the flames dance around each other to the music coming from somebody’s speaker. You had on your sleep shorts and a big t-shirt, not wanting to wear too much knowing you’d be going to bed once the fire died. It was then, while you were staring into the flames, that that familiar feeling landed on your skin and wouldn’t go away.

You looked up, taking in the scene in front of you. The sun was setting behind the thick forest of trees, painting the sky in colors of purples, pinks, and blues. Historia sat beside Eren on the picnic table, animatedly talking with Armin and Mikasa. Historia was deep into the conversation, but Eren had mentally exited. Instead of listening, Eren was watching you intently, the ghost of a smile across his lips.

You watched Eren back. At first, when Eren would stare at you, you looked away until the feeling was gone. But - more recently - you started watching the boy as he watched you. The ghost of a smile across your lips, one eyebrow curiously raised, and your eyes watching his emerald ones with a hint of interest.

It only made him stare at you more.

You shifted in the flimsy seat, leaning closer to the heated firepit. You shifted your eyes from Eren and down to the dancing flames. You leaned closer to the fire, so much so that your shirt fell forward, teasing the smooth skin underneath. You knew Eren was looking at you, so why not give him something to look at?

You felt a hand on your shoulder before you could look back up at Eren. You were planning on hooding your eyes seductively, smirking at him across the campsite, and tilting your head innocently at the boy. But instead you were ripped from your plan by a calloused grasp on your clothed shoulder.

You jumped in your seat and turned to the new person, “Hi.”

Jean smiles at the empty seat beside you, “Can I sit here?”

“Yeah.” You nodded slowly. “Yeah, yeah, take it.”

“Cool,” Jean mumbles as he joins you around the fire. You lean back in the chair, tearing your thoughts from Eren, though you could still feel the weight of his eyes from across the campsite.

Jean was a close friend of Eren’s, and - by association - a close friend of Historia’s as well. He was always at these group events, usually sitting with Connie and Sasha, doing something stupid. This was the first time he had ever spoken to you, other than your first meeting when he introduced himself. It was strange that he’d choose today of all days to talk to you, but so be it.

“So,” Jean filled the awkward silence, the only sound coming from the crackling of the fire and the sound of music playing from somewhere far off, “How are you enjoying camping?”

“It’s fun,” You answered shortly, “I like the fire.”

“I can tell.” Jean chuckled lightly. “You haven’t left that spot since we got the fire going two hours ago.”

You finally turned to the boy with a shrug, “Does that make me a pyromaniac?”

“Well, do you like to watch things burn?”

You thought about Jean’s question for a moment. You thought about what always attracted you towards fires. You wondered if you only liked to watch the flames dance around each other or if you only liked the scorching heat that radiated, but quickly decided that that wasn’t it. Your attraction to flames was never to the fire itself, but rather the wood underneath.

You liked to watch the wood char from a fire you control. You liked being the one to hit the burnt broken pieces from the log, only encouraging the fire further. You liked watching the log as it watched you, being well aware of the flames eating it alive until the fire finally died. Only when the fire dies can you see the log in all of its glory. The log is falling apart, black pieces flaking to the firepit’s bottom, beckoning you forward to feel mercy for the destroyed wood that kept you warm for so long.

“I suppose I do.” You turned back to Eren only to be met with an empty seat beside Historia at the wooden picnic table. “The wood doesn’t need to burn, but we burn it for our own selfish reasons.” You turn back to Jean, his eyebrows raised at you. “It’s kind of funny - actually - how selfish humans can be.”

Jean smiles sideways, “You say that like you aren’t human.”

You giggle, “I’m human. I’m sorry, that got weird really quickly.”

“Yeah,” Jean said through breathy laughter, “It did.”

There was a moment of silence before you said, “How are you enjoying camping?”

Jean was taken aback by your sudden question, “Oh, yeah, camping. It’s going well. I’m honestly surprised Historia invited you.”

“What?”

Jean started waving his hands in your face, “No, no, no, no- that came off so wrong.” Jean leaned back in the seat beside you. “Historia and Eren got in a fight the other day about you, so I was surprised she invited you to come along.”

“What fight?” You leaned towards the boy, the ghost of a smile on your lips. The excitement in the pit of your stomach was the same excitement you felt when you watched the log slowly burn away in the firepit.

Jean sighed, “Don’t get upset over what I tell you.”

“I won’t.” You leaned closer to the boy, your shirt involuntarily shifting forward and showing more skin than you wanted. But, you couldn’t notice your shirt at the moment, you were focused on everything wrong with Historia and Eren’s seemingly perfect relationship.

Jean’s eyes quickly glanced over your face and body before he started, “They were fighting the other day because Historia thinks he talks to you too much. She said he always targets you at parties and when he comes over, he's always around you.”

You pout at the boy, “We barely talk, though, and I’ve never noticed him being around me.”

It wasn’t a lie, you never noticed Eren being around you. You never noticed how he got closer to you the longer he watched you from across the room. You never noticed how he always seemed to be right over your shoulder, forcing himself into any conversation that happened with you. He’d been doing those things since you’d met him, it was simply something you were used to.

Jean put his hands up in silent surrender, “Hey, that’s all I’ve heard. Of course, I heard that through Armin who heard it through Mikasa who was with Eren when he was fighting with Historia over the phone. So, who knows what’s real. All we know for sure is that they fought and you were the key discussion point.”

“Weird,” You said as you leaned back in your chair, much to Jean’s disappointment.

“But,” Jean quickly continued, “I doubt it was that serious of a fight considering you were still invited to come on the camping trip. I just think they needed to blow off a little steam before the big trip.”

“Yeah,” You quietly agreed, looking around the campsite.

The campsite was beautifully bland. It was surrounded by a thick forest of trees, and a dirt path leading down to the site itself. The firepit sat in the middle of the campsite, a group of fold up chairs surrounding the blazing fire. It also had a metal park grill not too far away from the picnic table where Historia, Armin, and Mikasa all sat together. And close by the picnic table was the RV still attached to Jean's truck he had driven into the mountains only a few hours ago.

Right after getting to the destination, you mostly stayed on the couch in the RV, listening to music and ignoring everybody else. It was only when the sun started to set and the marshmallows were promised that you found your way to the firepit. And for the last two hours, you sat in your seat, eyeing up Eren and watching the log burn slowly.

“Anyways,” Jean said before standing up, “I’m thinking about taking a walk around the woods, care to join?”

You looked up from the blazing fire and at the tall boy looking down at where you were sitting. Jean was waiting for you, as if he expected you to give up the fire for his company instead. Jean was attractive, but you knew the only way you were going off with Jean was if Eren was here to watch your exit.

You looked around the campsite to find Eren’s eyes. He was no longer at the picnic table, talking with his friends. You couldn't see the emerald eyes watching you from the RV or the edge of the woods or - wait, there they were. Eren stood at the grill, helping Connie cook hamburgers as Sasha patiently waited beside them. And, just as you expected, his eyes were watching you intently.

You turned your attention back to Jean, “Yeah, I’ll join. But, wait for me to grab my sweatshirt in case it gets cold.”

Jean nodded, “Yeah, yeah. Of course. Take your time. I’ll be with Sasha when you’re ready to go.”

You rose from the seat and happily skipped your way over to the RV. You could feel the weight of Eren’s eyes from across the campsite, watching the way you move your body and the way your hair bounced with each overexaggerated step. Once to the door of the RV, you pressed your back into the handle and turned your eyes to Eren’s. You quirked a single eyebrow up at the boy, almost tempting him to come closer.

You turned around and found your way into the RV. You walked through the driver’s area and into the middle. Across from the dining table and kitchen was the couch in which you had taken reign over since you first walked into the RV. You found your backpack on the side of the couch, hanging over the back cushion.

You grabbed the backpack and sat on the couch to go through it. You shuffled through the things you had shoved in the biggest pocket. Things like the many cords for your appliances, your laptop, the book you’re currently reading, a packet of your favorite gum, and loads of other useless objects you didn’t need to bring. You frowned at your backpack, thinking you had shoved your sweatshirt into the bottom of the bag.

The door of the RV swung open suddenly and you jumped in your seat from the noise. You placed the bag back on the floor, giving your attention to whoever had joined you in the RV. You were expecting Jean, considering he was waiting for you, but you were dead wrong.

“Eren,” You whispered the name of the new guest, standing up with his entrance.

“Hey,” Eren grinned as he looked you up and down.

You tried to look away from his eyes, glancing around the entire RV, “Have you seen my sweatshirt?”

“No,” Eren said quickly, “What were you and Jean talking about?”

Your eyes snapped back to the boy, “Excuse me?”

“You heard my question.”

You crossed your arms against your chest, “That is hardly any of your business.”

You turned around, walking back towards the bedding area. You glanced in every crevice of the RV, still trying to find your sweatshirt. Eren followed you through the RV, only a few steps behind you.

“But it is my business,” Eren said to your back, “You made it my business.”

You turned around to him, “And, how the hell did I do that?”

Eren sighed, “Because, it’s you we’re talking about here. Everything involving you also involves me. You’re my girlfriend’s little sister, I care about you and I’m protective over you. And - Jean - he isn’t a good guy, you shouldn’t be talking to him.”

“He’s your friend,” You remind the boy, “If he’s a good person or not is not my problem. Maybe pick better friends next time, Eren.”

“You’re the one who’s going to follow him into the woods right before the sun goes down.” You tilted your head at that, so Eren did know what you and Jean had talked about. “You think he has good intentions? You think he only wants to walk and talk? You can’t be stupid enough to think he doesn’t have ulterior motives.”

“And if he does,” You say with a smile, “Who cares? If I let him lead me into the woods and strip me and then we end up fucking in a cold ass lake in the middle of the night, who cares? Surely, you don’t care.” You raised your eyebrows. “Right, Eren?”

Though the scenario was purely for playful purposes, Eren didn’t find it funny. In fact, he only frowned down at you, as if he were a disappointed father looking down at his rebellious teen daughter. Your relationship with Eren was strange, one minute he was watching you like a hungry man watching a seafood buffet and the next minute he was reprimanding you for simply making a joke.

“I don’t care,” Eren said with a single raised eyebrow.

You grinned up at him, “You aren’t acting like you don’t care.”

“Aren’t you looking for something?”

Your smile only widened, “Oh my god, are you jealous?”

Eren looked away from you, now focusing on the wall to your left. You continued to look into his big green eyes, trying to make him break. He was holding a strong front, but you wanted to hear his own ulterior motives - like, why he followed you into the empty RV in the first place.

“Come on,” You taunted, “You aren’t seriously jealous?” Eren remained silent so you prodded further. “Who are you more jealous of? Are you jealous of me for having the option to run off into the middle of the woods with your best friend to let him fuck me because I’m single? Or, are you jealous of Jean because he gets to be the one to fuck me?”

Eren closed his eyes, “I’m just protective of you, I told you that.”

You took a step forward, “Would you rather you be the one leading me into the dark woods and fucking me in the lake?”

Eren finally looked at you, “I don’t have to be Jean to fuck you.”

“But you have to be single.”

“Do I?” Eren took a step closer to you, making your heart pound in your chest. “You won’t tell anyone, right? You won’t tell your older sister?”

It was disgusting how Eren could joke about sleeping with you when he was dating Historia - but also, was he even joking? His mouth was set in a permanent smirk and his eyebrows were quirked and you could see the way his eyes searched every inch of your body. Suddenly, wearing shorts and a t-shirt wasn’t enough, you were sweating bullets under his gaze.

“Eren,” You said his name in a whisper, “That’s not funny.”

“Jokes are funny.” Eren tilted his head at you. “But, I’m not joking.”

You thought of Historia, innocently sitting at the picnic table right outside of the RV. You thought of Jean, waiting by the grill for you to grab your sweatshirt and finally go on a walk with him. And, you thought of Eren and how close he was. And, how he smelled of campfire smoke, and his beautiful sea-green eyes, and his plump pink lips, and his white teeth that were biting into his smile, trying to hold back his obvious amusement.

You wanted to say no - you really did - but now that Eren finally offered this to you, you could no longer think of Historia. You only thought of yourself, and how good Eren would feel on top of you. You thought of how heavy his body would feel on your chest, a lot heavier than his eyes have ever felt.

“You aren’t joking?” You whispered, there was a tint of interest evident in that one question.

Eren shrugged lightly, “I’m not joking if you’re not joking.”

“I could tell her.” You took a step closer to Eren, now only an inch away. “I could tell Historia about this whole conversation.”

Eren placed an uncharacteristically gentle hand on your cheek, “But, would she believe you? Her angelic little boyfriend trying to sleep with her little sister? That’s something I would never do.”

You raised your eyebrows as he leaned in closer, “I could still tell her, maybe even cry if I have to.”

Eren’s lips were only a moment away from your own when he whispered to your mouth, “And, what if she doesn’t believe you?”

Eren pushed through that second of space between your lips. He kissed you gently at first, as if metaphorically dipping his toes into the water before diving in completely. And surely, only a moment later, Eren came in for another kiss but this one quickly became ravenous and desperate.

Eren had his arms wrapped around your waist, bringing your body closer to him and pressing your chests together. You wrapped your arms around Eren’s neck, using his height to your advantage to stay with his lips. When Eren straightened back up, he took you with him, your feet going up on your tip-toes.

You weren’t doing much of the walking, but you went with him as he walked backwards to the couch. Eren let go of you before he sat down on the cushion beside your bag. He looked up at you where you stood above him, tilting his head mockingly. Eren then smacked his lap lightly, beckoning you forward the same way an owner would call forward a dog.

You crossed your arms against your chest from where you stood over Eren, “Seriously? Are you mistaking me for a bitch?”

Eren smirked and said, “Just sit down already. You don’t want people to get curious about what we're talking about, right?” You sighed and reluctantly took your spot on Eren’s lap, straddling him. “Good puppy.”

Your face was only an inch from Eren’s, and he was watching your lips as you said, ��I’m not a puppy. That can be Historia’s job.”

Eren cringed at the sound of his girlfriend’s name, but then quickly replied, “Let’s not talk about her while you’re on top of me, alright?”

“Talk about who?” You leaned in and pressed your lips to Eren’s lips.

Eren smiled against your mouth, “That’s my girl.”

That nickname caused you to shift closer to Eren, your chests pressing together. Your lips found each other once again, the kissing just as desperate as before. Your lips moved against his, your teeth clattering together with neediness.

Eren had his hands on your hips, and he moved them onto the small of your back. His hands kept rising, moving up the back of your t-shirt and settling on your spine. Then, in one swift move, Eren swung you through the air and laid you down on the couch, finding his place on top of you.

You let out a quick gasp from the quick position change and the newfound pressure right where you needed him between your legs. You couldn’t help but whine into Eren’s mouth with every movement of his hardening cock against the heartbeat in your pants. And, each whine you fed him only made him groan into your mouth as well.

“Eren,” You whispered to his lips, “More - I want more.”

Eren pressed harder into you one last time before sitting back on his knees. As if he were getting timed, Eren grabbed the hem of your shorts and pulled them off in one swift move. The shorts hit the floor and Eren looked down at you with a sickeningly confident smile.

“How sweet,” Eren said, “You're so desperate for me.”

“Shut up,” You mumbled, “How can you call me desperate when you’re the one with the staring problem?”

Eren moves back on top of you, looking deeply into your eyes, “Don’t act like you never stared back.”

You turned your head and whispered into his cheek, “I only stared back because you stared at me.” You jutted your chin forward, holding back from kissing Eren. “Why did you stare so much anyways? What were you even thinking about?”

Eren grinned as he whispered, “I always thought about-” He chuckled quietly to himself- “Well, about what’s happening right now, princess.” Eren leaned in closer. “Watching you practically whine for more of me.”

You finally brought your lips to his, kissing him in response to his statement. Honestly, it was exactly what you had always thought. You knew Eren didn’t watch you because he liked your hair or your outfits or the way you smiled when you talked. You always knew there was some deep rooted sexual desire planted in Eren’s head - and that reality was entirely why you started staring back in the first place.

You liked the attention and you grew comfortable with the weight of Eren’s gaze over time. You knew even if you were completely overlooked in every conversation with your sister’s friends - desperately trying to squeeze your way into the conversations and even going to the lengths of clinging onto Historia’s arm, hoping you’ll receive as much attention as she was getting - Eren would still look at you despite it all.

Eren was back between your legs in a moment, but close wasn’t nearly close enough. You instinctively wrapped your legs around Eren’s waist, hooking them together at the ankles. You pushed your hands under the thin fabric of his t-shirt, moving your fingertips over the thick muscles of his back and shoulders. You pushed the shirt upward with a quiet command.

“Off,” You whispered against Eren’s mouth.

Eren shook his head, moving his nose against your own, “No time.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, about to ask what he could mean by that when he silently answered your unspoken question. Eren’s one hand moved from the side of your head and down to his waist, undoing his jeans in one experienced move. He struggled with the hem of his pants, so you silently offered two helping hands.

Your fingers fumbled around with the rough fabric of his pants as you both attempted to push them over his waist. His jeans moved swiftly over his curves, revealing his boxers pitching a unexpectantly long tent. You always assumed Eren’s cocky attitude was his way of overcompensating for something he didn’t have - but, now that you could see it, you realized he didn’t need to overcompensate for anything, he was just a cocky bastard with a big cock.

You felt Eren’s fingers hastily grab for the bottom of your panties, pushing them to the side. Eren brought his free hand to the waistband of his boxers, pushing the fabric down enough to free his cock from underneath. Your eyes were caught on his dick, taking in a sight Historia must see all of the time - considering how needy he seems to be.

But, what if Eren wasn’t this needy with Historia? You’re not Historia, and you don’t pretend to be either, so maybe he likes the change - in fact, maybe that’s what has always drawn his attention to you. Maybe he likes the way you let his eyes confidently decorate you, instead of Historia who gets giddy and blushy under his gaze. Maybe he likes that you don’t remind him of his girlfriend because sometimes getting used to something means getting bored of it.

Eren’s mouth kisses down your jaw and neck, pressing soft kisses to the sensitive skin under your ear. His breath was hot against your skin, making you squirm lightly under the pressure of his body. His whispers tickled the places he had previously kissed.

“‘You okay?” Eren whispered against your throat.

The question made your stomach turn with butterflies, “Mhm, perfect.”

Eren brought himself closer to your body, hips to hips and his cock finding its home in your entrance. The movement made your back arch, pressing your chest flush against Eren’s chest. A low ache of pain spread between your legs and you couldn’t stop the broken moan that left your lips.

“Shush,” Eren groaned against your ear before bringing his lips back to yours. He kissed you softly once before he leaned back to look into your eyes. It seemed he was pretending not to be balls deep inside of you as he gazed sweetly into your eyes. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, “M’fine.”

You always thought Eren’s gaze of desire was enough for you, but his gaze of admirational was enough to turn you on by itself. His eyes were burning holes into your own, and you felt yourself growing hot under the gaze as if you had anything to be nervous about. You bucked your hips against his own, wanting more of him but not knowing how to voice those desires.

He took the silent hint well enough, moving his body against yours, and pulling himself out of you before pushing himself back in. You bit your lip to stop the loud moans from escaping your throat. Eren brought his lips to yours, attempting to help suppress the moans from coming out. Under better circumstances, Eren would’ve loved to hear your sounds of pleasure, but not when his friends and girlfriend were right outside.

“How about-” Eren groaned against your mouth as he pushed his hips against yours- “Next time I’ll take my time.”

“Next time,” You whispered breathlessly in between two kisses.

Eren repeated, “Next time.”

The thought of doing this again made your heart jump and your entrance grow a little tighter around his cock. Next time, he was already planning a next time. Next time without his friends waiting outside, next time without his girlfriend within a thirty foot radius, next time without a quick fuck - something a bit more meaningful than right now.

So, you let him use you. You let him use your body to fill his every desire, and use you as his personal fleshlight. He slammed his hips into you, desperately reaching a high that you weren’t even close to finding. Because next time you knew he’d take his time with you, and let you have as many orgasms as you could hope for.

Eren was close to his climax, you could tell by the way his thrusts got sloppy and his kissing got messy against your lips. He leaned back far enough from your face to whisper into your mouth.

“Where?” He whispered with a groan.

“Anywhere.” You whispered back, moving your hips against Eren’s hips to help bring him to his approaching high.

WIth one last gutty groan into your mouth and one final thrust fully into you, you felt yourself get filled with his warmth. After Eren pulled himself completely out, he dropped his head to your shoulder, breathing heavily against your skin. After a few moments of silent relief, he pushed your panties back to cover the mess he had made.

Eren moved to sit back on the couch, covering himself back up with his boxers and jeans. You rolled yourself partially off of the couch, grabbing your shorts from the floor before moving them over your legs. You were once again fully dressed, now looking at Eren with furrowed eyebrows.

You wanted to say something, but without a single word of acknowledgement, you walked to the door of the RV. Before you could reach for the door handle, Eren spoke up suddenly from the couch.

“Your sweatshirt,” He said quickly, his eyes once again finding yours.

You glanced lazily around the RV, “I don’t need it.” You looked back at Eren with a cocky grin. “Maybe I can borrow Jean’s sweatshirt if I get too cold.” Your grin only grew wider. “Or, maybe we can create our own body heat - you know, if we have to.”

Eren frowned at you, “You’re insufferable, you know that, right?”

You shrugged lightly, “That’s just how little sisters are.”

It was as if you had watched his world crash around him. You watched realization make itself known in his eyes and in his face, from his now slack jaw and widened eyes. He was finally remembering - after forcing himself to forget for so long - that you were a little sister. Not only a little sister, but his girlfriend’s little sister.

You regretted saying anything, so you instead walked out of the RV. Nobody had noticed you were gone and nobody was waiting for your return. You walked across the campsite to stand beside Jean still talking with Sasha. You stood silently for a few moments until Jean finally noticed you by his side.

“Hey.” Jean looked you up and down, noticing your newly rosy cheeks and swollen lips. If he gave himself the time to think about it, he could come to the conclusion of what had happened in the RV, but Jean silently chose obliviousness. “‘You ready to go?”

Your eyes moved quickly to the opening door of the RV, Eren making his escape. There was a new awkward gait to Eren’s walk as he made his way to his girlfriend and friends sitting on the picnic table. Historia excitedly ran into Eren’s arms when he came within a ten feet radius, and you felt your stomach turn in jealousy.

It was weird how he labelled himself as Historia’s boyfriend, but yet he was just as much - if not more - yours. In just a few months, Historia and Eren would be celebrating their two year anniversary. And, in a strange way, you would be celebrating with them as well as their unofficial third.

“I’m ready.” Your eyes met Jean’s and you offered him a genuine smile. “Let’s go walk.”

For a second as you made your way towards the edge of the woods with Jean, you felt the familiar weight of Eren’s eyes on your back. It was heavier than normal, two new feelings silently shared between the two of you: the guilt of what you had done, and the excitement of knowing it would happen again.

[xxsmokeyy]

Levi x Reader (F) It’s The Tea

genre: fluff, canon divergence — coffee shop setting

summary: a misplaced table and a pair of hands that had a knack for good tea; you wonder what brought Humanity’s Strongest to your shop.

wc: 6,262

part II

“I’ll have one flat white,” a customer says as she picks money from her coin purse. You give her a smile after receiving her payment, the exact amount saving you the task of calculating change.

“Coming right up.” And you make your way to the coffee beans to make the blend she ordered. She watches in patience as you skillfully maneuver around the counter, getting everything done along the process. You incline the porcelain a little to make for the finishing art, steamed milk piercing through the coffee and creating a signature shape. In no time, you hand her the drink on top of a saucer.

She silently nods as brief thanks, and as soon as she turns her back to you, you dart your eyes on a table of one by the far right windowpane. You carefully spectate her and what direction she’s going. She’s going to the table!

The make-do suspense keeps you on your toes as you look at her intently, breath slightly hitching, waiting for her to sit on the lone chair. The woman navigates across the room, heading straight for your wishful desires. Your hands fly to your mouth in shock, witnessing the life-changing moment unravel before your eyes. No way. She really is.

The cup of coffee on her left hand, she uses her right to move the chair to take a seat. But just when she’s about to pull it back, someone calls her from another table, waving at her excitedly.

You stand upright and alert while your scrutinizing gaze follow her movements. She looks at where the voice is coming from, and almost immediately, her face brightens upon seeing who. Her right hand lets go of the wooden furniture and proceeds to where the caller sits. You look at her destination and find three people on a table of four. It doesn’t take long before she takes the free seat and starts chatting with them.

Your body slumps back with a disappointed sigh. Looks like no one’s sitting there yet again.

It’s the closest call you’ve ever had after years of this shop’s existence. Why no one chooses to sit there is beyond you. Either your customers are not alone, or they are, but only to take out their orders. Actually, even if they’re alone, they’d take the table for two instead. Do they not want to look lonely that bad? You groan in annoyance.

The table consists of a small, circular table and a single chair by the window. In your mightiest opinion, it’s the perfect place to just sit down, enjoy a cup of hot coffee, and read a book. But nobody’s ever done that through the passing years, and you can only witness the table being neglected by people.

It irks you a little. Could there have been another way to maximize the space that stemmed from unproportional construction? Maybe it really is time to remove those. Maybe it’s not really a big deal.

You’ve been contemplating too many times replacing it with a plant vase or a decorative ornament to take up the space since it’s of no use anyway. But something just tells you you shouldn’t. Besides, just thinking thinking about feels costly.

The rest of the day goes by quickly, and before you know it, you’ve opened the store again, serving customers after customers. This time, you never gave the table another glance. Surprisingly enough, you spent the whole night debating with yourself on what decoration you should fill the space with. A nice bookshelf would’ve been good, but you decided to go with a monstera plant to make use of the window right by it. Not until your day off, though, which is still on Sunday.

Having consecutively served around six customers and cleaned used tables, you sit and take a breather, resting your eyes by reading a book to let a couple minutes go by.

You slowly get sucked into the story, the marvelous art of prose bringing you into the plot’s little universe. The way the writer used the most fitting descriptive words possible astounds you, making a smile of enjoyment involuntarily creep up your lips. Somehow, you think writing is similar to making coffee, mixing different elements to create the perfect blend, the sole goal of making an exquisite taste that will leave people aching for more? Oh, and they both smell good, books and coffee. A chuckle leaves your lips.

Just when you’re deep in thought, things starting to stir up in the narration, someone speaks in front of you.

“One black tea,” a stern voice curtly orders, interrupting your peace. Harshly brought back to reality, you rise to your feet to resume to work. First tea of the day, huh?

Sure, your shop is known for its good coffee, but your tea can put up for a competition, too. It’s just that these days, coffee is more on the popular side, since tea can be made in almost any household now.

You close your book to attend to the customer, but not without leaving a bookmark on the current page. When you look at him, you almost freeze in your tracks. Well if it isn’t Humanity’s Strongest himself!

A pair of dazing stale eyes bore into your own with an unreadable expression and you compose yourself. Crap, you must have been caught giggling to yourself. You feel heat speedily cover your cheeks, turning you to a blushing mess. How shameful.

“Pardon me,” you excuse, clearing your throat before telling him the price. He wordlessly fishes for his wallet and pays. He does find you a bit weird, laughing at nothing, but pays it no more mind. He’s supposed to be on leisure, not meddling with some brat’s uncanny actions.

As you turn your back to make his beverage, you squint your eyes in loss of face. It really is the Captain Levi, and you probably looked like a creep in his eyes. Now what will become of your shop’s repute?

You shove the thought to the back of your head and start working. The ravenhead watches back as you work your hands into making a, hopefully, good blend. Your heart is beating wildly inside your chest like it’s about to jump off your rib cage, but you try to ignore it. The thought of a widely known persona such as him inside your very shop is crazy. To what do you even owe this pleasure?

Oh well, you’ll just pour your heart into making his tea, that way you might erase his ridiculous impression of you in his head. Hey! What’s so bad about giggling while reading? your subconscious tries to defend while you strain the boiled tea leaves into a clean china. The earthly smell hits your nose, making you want one, too.

You smile as you hand over the teacup. “Thank you for your service,” you add, even going as far as bowing. The moment the phrase escapes your lips, you regret it right away. Chills shoot up your spine. It sounds so awkward and unnecessary, but should you just treat the Captain like any other people knowing he’s done so much for your country?

Your cheeks flush into a faint, pink color. Thankfully, you’re slightly angled downwards, he might not see. Levi only eyes you for a second before nodding and taking the cup of tea in his hands, his calloused fingers grazing your hands fleetingly.

When you hear his footsteps fade, you rise and rub a palm against your face. You hesitantly take a glance toward the Captain, and shock takes over your whole system. To be totally honest, you never thought you’d see the day someone would sit on that table.

He looks perfectly placed on the table, like it’s reserved a long time just for him. He’s in civillian clothes, probably to not attract a lot of people. The sunlight gives his face a pretty sheen, the air from the window blowing lightly on his dark fringes. Your heart continues to skip several beats for no clear reason. Maybe that is the reason why your instincts keep telling you to not replace it.

Meanwhile, Levi sips on the freshly brewed tea, the strong flavor staining on his tongue just right. As he occupies his mind somehwere else, the taste hits better. Everything feels evenly distributed, the base smooth and pleasant, the amount of water not brimming. The temperature isn’t so bad as well.

Then and there, he guesses you source fine leaves from the innermost walls, which is a luxury at this point, not to mention your non-overpriced charge.

Not bad, he thinks.

You’re dumbstruck as you sit back in awe. You weren’t able to decipher what he’s thinking, but you know for sure he doesn’t hate it from seeing that he emptied the whole thing and left a generous tip.

You grab your tray and proceed to cleaning up the table he previously seated on, the whole decision of shopping for a plant on Sunday going down the drain.

—

It’s been a whole month since the Captain’s visit, and you think of the once in a lifetime moment often, and at times randomly. You sure as heck won’t be removing the table now that something has happened.

“Thank you,” you say as you hand the cup of coffee, serving the last one for the queue. It’s a late, cloudy afternoon, looking like it’s about to shower, and the shop is pretty dull. Well, that only means you can read more.

“Is this the shop they say sells well?” you hear someone from the ordering area. “Yeah, you go ahead,” they converse. You’re making coffee for yourself at the moment and you can’t peer to look at whose voice it is.

“What? You do it!”

“Just go! We don’t have time!”

“What the fuck? You’re the one holding the knife, aren’t you?!” a man shouts in a whisper. You can’t hear crystal clear due to being far into the counter, although you know they must be disturbing the atmosphere.

Vexed by their rowdiness, you turn around and stop making the blend. You walk to the front of the counter, “Excuse me, please lower your—”

“Give me all your money, lady. Let’s transact in peace so nobody gets hurt,” the man grabs your collar, knife pointed straight into your neck. Another man of his companion moves to the side to cover their actions. You don’t feel the sharp edge prick your skin due to intense panic.

You look around frantically, worried if there are other people harmed. To your relief, they seem to not notice anything, if you can even call that relieving. Now there must be no saving you.

“It’s alright, we won’t bring someone else into this, just do what we ask,” the other guy says, wide, haunting eyes looking straight into you. You feel cold sweat drip from your forehead.

“Now hand us what you got.”

On the other hand, Levi finishes with his errands around the capital and stumbles within your shop’s vicinity. Walking mindlessly, he checks the skies to tell the time, but sees the dark clouds instead. It seems it’s about to pour.

He’s already in front of your shop, but the threatening rain will be bigger trouble, he might get stranded if he stops by. Plus, he probably didn’t bring enough money, so he’s got no choice but head back now.

Just when he’s about to leave, his peripheral vision miraculously catches sight of your horrified expression through the window, putting him to an abrupt halt. He turns to see better, and finds two men roughing you up while trying to hide the commotion.

He clicks his tongue and spins to turn away. It’s not his business anymore, it’s for the Military Police to deal with. They might be loan sharks for all he knows, and you’d be held entirely accountable for that.

Unable to take the view of the knife pointed to your neck out of his head, he sighs defeatedly and eventually discovers himself inside the store, else it’d slowly eat at his conscience.

“Oi, what’s going on here?” he questions with a firm voice, turning heads his way.

“It’s Captain Levi from the Survey Corps!”

“What a lucky day!”

People stir up upon seeing the Captain to which he only ignores, full attention on you and the two criminals.

The robber without a weapon quickly turns around to check, shaking in fear. As he makes terrifying eye contact with the Captain, he makes haste for the door in desperate hopes of escaping, but to no avail. Levi grabs the back of the poor guy’s head and slams it against an empty table, putting him to deep sleep. Then turning to your armed assaulter, Levi closes in with big steps and takes the knife down before swinging the side of his hand, striking a nerve on the man’s neck to knock him out.

Levi perceives they’re complete amateurs and wonders why they even steal. Atleast one of them tried to run, he thinks as he looks down on the passed out crooks.

You’re not exactly sure if your heart calmed down or speeded up even more—maybe both, but you feel safe and more at ease.

Tying the last knot, he stands from his kneeled form and dusts his hands off to rid himself of the filth.

You only watch silently, mind clouded in confusion of what to do. Captain Levi came just in time and saved you and your shop of possible bankruptcy. Say, it could have been the worst timing considering you haven’t cleared your cash box for weeks now. You’re reminded of how much you owe the Captain.

“Don’t worry, they’ll be out cold for a while, just call the MP’s on them,” Levi assures before taking a glance at you and fails to understand your expression, your face looks like it’s leaking shit in his opinion.

You look at the two robbers dozing off tied together by the help of Levi and your spare rope before giving your savior another bow. “Thank you so much!” you exclaim and raise your head to meet his fierce gaze.

“And sorry for the trouble, people around here can get belligerent, especially to us business owners,” you add.

He observes you from head to toe, eyes particularly lingering on your neck, and you blush in embarrassment, feeling his hot stare.

“Is there—?”

He takes something from his pocket and offers you a handkerchief which you cluelessly accept. You later on realize what it’s for, finally feeling a sting on your neck. You wipe the bleeding area and see trails of crimson on your apron as well.

With no reason to stay any longer, Levi steers to leave, but is just in time to witness the rain pour down heavily, big droplets washing against the windows. He sighs, it’s just as he guessed.

You, on contrast, get an idea to show your gratitude, feeling a physical candle light up in your brain. “Captain Levi, please stay and let the rain pass while I brew you some coffee,” you negotiate with strong willed eyes, fixed on returning him a favor. It’s the least you could do from within your limited skills, and you’d like it if he’d accept. Actually, you won’t accept if he rejects, fully wanting to pay him back atleast a tad.

He looks back at you, slightly surprised. You seem like a more persistent person now rather than an easily flustered mess. Could he be so insensitive as to decline your generous offer after seeing your firm resolve? But more importantly, coffee? Could he be so thick-skinned as to ask for something else other than that?

When he stays quiet, you decide to go ahead and make him a drink from one of your premium coffee beans, but you’re put to a stop as he speaks.

“I’d prefer tea.”

Oh, right. He did ask for black tea a month back, didn’t he? You give him a smile and a thumbs up of approval before turning your back to make his tea.

Levi massages his temples and takes a seat, eyeing the immobilized crooks and the outside, thinking what he got himself into. It won’t be so bad to stay for a while and let the rain ease down, right?

You wait for the water to boil before dropping a bunch of mint leaves, then waiting for it to simmer. You prepare a porcelain cup and saucer and pour in the hot liquid, adding honey for a natural sweetener. You mix in a couple droplets of lemon to balance the flavor and you’re good to go.

You set the tea on his chosen table of two, giving the free seat a momentary glimpse. You wonder how it would feel like to have a proper conversation with Captain Levi, only to quickly dismiss the thought of joining him as you hear someone call you from the counter. Thankfully, people are back to minding their business and don’t bother the Captain anymore. You excuse yourself and return to work, still a couple hours away from closing time.

Levi sits back and enjoys the tea you made, soon learning it’s a fresh peppermint tea. Though it’s only the second time he’s having your brew, he doesn’t know why he already has high expectations. The choice of blend is perfect for a rainy day, and it’s exactly what he would have made when he returned back to the headquarters. You don’t really look like someone who prefers tea, but he’s impressed nevertheless.

He sips on the cup, letting the weather pass and the taste line his tongue. A variety of things occupy his mind involuntarily and before he knows it, the rain has calmed down into a shower.

He stands to leave but suddenly notices an umbrella left on his table. When did that get there? He takes a glimpse at you and finds you looking back at him with curious, alert eyes like that of a cat, immediately averting your gaze and resuming to pick up the dirtied tableware onto your tray.

Levi confirms it’s from you, and it’s another one of your acts of gratitude. He’s left with no choice and grabs it, wraps his slender fingers around the handle, and takes his leave.

Satisfied, you sigh in relief as you watch his back drift into the darkness. You look at the handkerchief in the pocket of your apron, smiling. Despite rumors of him being an unrelenting leader and a ruthless thug that stretched way back, the Captain is a kind man, isn’t he? If there really is such thing as coincidence, you’d like to consider yourself lucky for having experienced it.

—

About two more weeks pass when Levi finds himself hooked into the sweet aroma of the tea you make, the ambience of your shop’s environment, and something else he can’t put a name on. In actuality, he may or may not be using your umbrella as an excuse to go to your store right now.

He takes a glance at his hand holding the same umbrella. He briefly questions himself what he’s doing but pushes the thought aside with the use of his well thought of excuse. True enough, he can’t just go around using other people’s possession, can he?

He begins to sense the growing familiarity of your shop as he closes in. The choice of location being just at the mouth of the city, the distinct line between rural and urban is visibly emphasized.

As Levi enters through the saloon door, his eyes almost immediately find your form, leisurely reading while leaning on the counter, back turned against the entrance, your hair up in a braided bun which he finds neat. He clicks his tongue as he approaches to order.

“It’s easier to mug you that way,” he says and you jolt in surprise. Recognizing the stone cold voice, you spin to see the Captain in front of you, inside your very shop once again. This is no coincidence anymore!

“Captain Levi!” you greet with a beam, utterly delighted to see him. “Pleasant afternoon, what can I get you?” you ask and look him straight in the face. He’s in casual clothes, so you guess it’s another one of his day off’s. His sombre eyes of a unique bluish grey color take on your gaze fiercely. It’s true that the eyes convey one’s entire personality, as you feel his menace even though he doesn’t intend to display it.

“Black tea,” he says without a hitch, giving you the exact amount of money, and you proceed to your working space. Boiling of water, straining of tea leaves, pouring it into clean china; as you hand it to him, they start to resemble a routine.

He goes ahead and takes the corner table, and you couldn’t be any happier, thinking he seems to like the spot, choosing it among every other free seats. Levi takes a sip, and enjoys it with no wonder. You didn’t fail to make an exquisite blend.

A couple moments later, he’s still there. While everyone else chitchats with their company, he sits in silence with his beverage, ocassionally looking at the sky freely laid out by the window. He’s never really one to catch up with the bulletin and read daily papers, he’d prefer books for that matter.

As you wipe with a rag the empty tabletop just beside him, you see him looking at the window, cup of tea in hand. He, however, feels your stare, and wordlessly slides an umbrella on the table without batting you an eye. You recognize it as yours and take a step towards him.

“You better not have arrived home drenched that night,” he says. It’s only until he returned to the headquarters that he had realized you must have given him your only umbrella.

A chuckle leaves your mouth, aren’t you concerned. “I might have.” He clicks his tongue.

You grab it in your hands and follow his gaze, soon looking vacantly at the view as well. “You can see the skies from there, right?” you ask, earning a low hum in response.

“I wonder how far they stretch from outside on… Some say they’re boundless,” the words unconsciously slip from your mouth as you watch the clouds move. Something about relatively slow afternoons just hypnotize you to no end.

Levi shifts his gaze to your figure upon hearing a frame of your mind, finding a glimmer of ambition in the mesmerizing pools of your eyes. He can hear your train of thoughts out loud, while you wonder if you could ever get to experience the outside world. He remembers a couple friends thinking the same thing way back, and he realizes, it’s people like you that he hates to see drift away, one of those whom he feels he has to protect, though it’s not like you know each other to great extent.

He brings his cup to his lips and frankly speaks, “It’s not pretty out there.”

His words interrupt you from your daze, making you look at him. You notice he grips the teacup oddly, holding it around the mouth instead of its handle. You heave out a shallow sigh. “Figured you’d say that,” you say with a sad smile. It’s undeniable, coming from him.

You fish something from the pocket of your apron and leave it on his table, then making your way back to the counter. A seemingly little exchange of borrowed objects. He eyes his cleaned dry handkerchief and leaves a comment before you can stray farther, “It does seem endless.”

The corners of your lips upturn into a grateful smile. He really is soft. “Thank you.”

He doesn’t know exactly what you’re thanking him for.

—

Time and time passed, and he always comes every week without fail. Sometimes, when days are light, he even visits twice a week. You could say you have developed quite a relationship with the Captain, though not something that can be considered close to sentimental. The distance is still present, but you’d have small talks here and there, sometimes you’d lend him your books just so he doesn’t bore himself to death, or maybe so he’d stay a little longer.

You gradually learn to read his moods through the language of his orders. You find that he’s more of a tea lover based solely from the fact that he never once asked for coffee. Black tea is his regular, Oolong tea is when something probably turns out good or successful, since the price a little higher and you guess it’s his little way of celebrating, Chamomile tea when something is roughly off, you figure as he never speaks excessively when he orders it.

You never end up joining him, though. Of course, he always takes the table of one, there isn’t room for another.

“The usual,” Levi briefly says and hands you the exact charge. Never faltering, you smile and continue to make black tea for the man. “You still haven’t hired a helper,” he points out and you hum in agreement.

“I can manage by myself,” you inform as you stir his tea. You’ve managed years by your own, what use is there for an extra hand? Besides, it’s not like your shop gets hoarded by huge amounts of people. Coffee shops attract a moderate number, and you’re fine with that.

You slide the finished drink to Levi and he accepts, heading to his own little corner. Ever since he first came, you labeled the corner seat as his own, and you never thought of removing it again. He doesn’t seem like a very social person, like he’s a man of few words if talking is unnecessary. You always wonder how it must feel to have a conversation with such a persona; must be novel and inspiriting. Problem is, you don’t have the guts to initiate it. You don’t want to be overlooked as a fangirl of the sort. If possible, you want to converse casually.

It’s the looming distance between a coffee shop owner and a country’s renowned soldier that obstructs you from feeling on level as him.

Still, you don’t know why you’re currently grabbing a book from one of your drawers and why you’re currently making your way toward him, tray still in hand to clean afterwards as an excuse.

“Fancy a book?” you offer as you set one of your favorite titles on his table. He darts his eye on it and studies the cover for a brief moment, seeing if it’s up to his standards. It doesn’t really pique his interest, but you made an effort, and it’d be of great companion with the tea.

Levi accepts the book in his hands and starts reading, later learning about the main character’s introduction. “You have a lot of books,” he comments out of observation. This isn’t the first time you offered him one, nor is it just the second. He’s come to a conclusion that you have a liking for it.

You hum in agreement. “I like collecting them, but they’re still not enough to fill a shelf, though. I’m thinking about putting one here,” you say, already envisioning where to place it.

He almost immediately thought of the Headquarters’ library. A lot of books there just get covered in dust, unmoved. Cadets these days don’t take reading as hobby. He considers the idea of bringing some for your shop to make use of it. “I can hand you some,” he says, flipping the page.

Your eyes widen in an equal mix of delight and surprise. He’d go that far? For what? Is the Captain really like this? “Really? From where?” you try to hide the excitement in your voice, but it doesn’t escape his ears. Well isn’t that great? An upgrade for your shop and a chance to see him again. Not that he’s not showing himself enough.

“Scouts’ library,” he says, flipping another page, and you’re deep in thought. Is that allowed? Do I have to pay?

Just a couple of pages in, he seems partially engrossed. The protagonist is a traveller who encounters metaphorical life obstacles and is most likely to find self-discovery through it, that’s as much as he knows.

He notices you still haven’t left and bats you an eye. You look troubled and euphoric at the same time, he couldn’t understand entirely what you’re thinking but he has a clue. “It’s free. Some of it are old anyway,” he informs, which seems to bring your face relief. So his hunch turns out to be right, you were thinking of the burden.

“Oh, I wasn’t thinking that!” you deny right away, waving your hand dismissively, cheeks blushing. You definitely were.

He stays quiet, and you feel ashamed. Does he think you’re a cheapskate? Or thick-faced? Hey, he’s also reading, you must be a distraction. Oh god, how can you make acquaintances with him now?

You aim to leave and give him his space, afraid that you might be bugging him for too long now, but Levi suddenly speaks just in time.

“You have an allurement for things about the outside,” he asserts in heed. When you don’t answer, he continues, “It’s not all rainbows out there, you know.” His perception of you still stands as he’s continuously reminded by you of people who go through great measures to reach their dreams, and those he lost due to wanting to seek for more.

You don’t know if it’s a positive connotation or a negative but he doesn’t sound so enthusiastic. Your grip on the tray tightens. The way he puts it… is he trying to make you drop your interest?

“I do know that. I just,” you pause, contemplating what to say. You’re stuck with I just want to dream, is it so bad? or I just want to experience the forbidden, I’m sick of being stuck in this birdcage, or an impulsive one: I just want to see, would you bring me outside?

Instead, you settle with “I wouldn’t know, I’m a mere shop owner. I don’t have the chance to sit and talk with someone who’s gone beyond the walls.” Like you, sir.

He studies you as you look back at him with firm eyes. Brat, you already live a life with fair peace. The resolve in your eyes didn’t waver, not one bit. He thinks, will you be content with knowing about the outside? Levi heaves out a sigh and closes the book before leisurely taking a sip on his tea.

“Maybe if you’d put another chair, we’ve been talking for months now,” he then says, an even amount of sarcasm in his tone, enough to not come off as rude.

Dumbfounded, you gawk at the Captain for a good five seconds, eyes slightly enlarged in surprise before laughing your head off, turning a couple heads your way for a fleeting second.

“What’s funny?” he quizzes, thin brows furrowed together, and you wave him off, wiping your euphoric tears away.

“Well, I didn’t know it’d be that simple, Captain!” you giggle, eyes genuinely happy and hearty. Just put a chair in? In all seriousness, he doesn’t exactly look approachable with those half lidded dark eyes and a permanent scowl now, does he? That’s one of the primary reasons you have trouble making advances to him.

Levi looks at you, taking in the undeniably beautiful sight before clicking his tongue and averting his gaze.

He’s absolutely certain he paid no attention to the way you tucked your hair behind your ear in a timid manner, the way your silky locks sway gracefully by the wind’s cool breeze, the way your delicate fingers held to the tray tightly as you try to compose yourself, and the way your glowing eyes looked back at him with a gentle gaze once you’ve finally calmed down. Yes, he likes to think he paid no extra mind to those details.

“Tch, did you think I’d bite you or something?” he deadpans, taking another sip on his cup.

“No, absolutely not!” You absolutely did. “I’ll put another chair some other day,” you say and wave him goodbye upon seeing a customer enter, returning to your working place.

He shakes his head lightly and finishes his cup, bringing the book with him as he takes his exit. The smile in your face never disappeared throughout the day, chest booming in an unrelenting speed.

Sunday comes, and you decide to do a general cleaning. You also buy a small shelf from the nearest furniture shop and have it delivered, filling it with some of your books. You squeeze in a chair to the corner by adjusting the other tables’ distances, and you can only laugh at yourself for not thinking of this long ago. You think, why not just sit on a table of two? but figure maybe the Captain’s already grown fond to the spot.

You feel like a schoolgirl as you mindlessly prepare things to talk about and questions to ask. How much does he know? Are titans really that big? Is the ocean real? What brought him to your shop?

But after that, you never saw him again. You think maybe he’ll arrive later or the next day, but more weeks pass, and not even his shadow appeared.

The slowest weeks achingly turn to months. You’ve been awfully attentive to the morning papers since then, looking for the slightest news about him, or their operations. You think it’s completely understandable, being perfectly aware that the Captain is a busy man. You know that visiting little tea shops isn’t actually a luxury that a guy like him affords, but it tugs at your heart a teeny bit, a small part of you involuntarily longing for him. Eitherway, you just wish for his and his people’s safety.

About five months have passed since you last saw him. Levi, on the other hand, has gotten busy those said times. Expeditionary Operations came after another, and he’s buried with work once they arrive back. His squad got promoted to Special Operations Squad, and intensive training was mandatory. The amount of free time he had back then was generous, and in those five months, he had no time to slack off.

But he never forgot you, every single time he drinks tea, he starts doubting his own blend as compared to yours.

“That’s the last of it,” Levi says as he hands over piles and piles of paperwork to the Commander. Erwin only grunts his response.

The ravenhead contemplates for a few moments before finally speaking, “I’ll be out. I’ll return before dinner,” he informs and turns his back, words more of a statement than asking for permission. The higher ranking officer only stares at him as his figure leaves the room. Fair enough, he’s done with his current tasks as a Captain and it’s his first day off in a while. He leaves him be.

Levi dismisses his tan jacket and fixes his cravat as he heads to the shop he favors. He ends up forgetting the books he’s supposed to give but pushes it aside. Oh well, just another excuse for him to visit.

Minutes of walking on foot, steps a little quicker than normal, and he finally arrives, the ambience hugging at his aura. It’s been long since he last set his foot here. He pushes at the saloon door, a ton of improvisations greeting his sight. The interior is now painted a beige color, the warmth going along with the wooden accents. You’ve added the shelf you said you wanted to put, a fair number of books in it. Lastly, his preferred corner seat already has two chairs opposite to each other.

Your back is turned against the door again, leaning on the counter as you occupied yourself with a book. He notices that your hair has gotten longer in a span of months. He shortly wonders what else has changed.

“Oi, the usual,” a familiar voice says, stoic tone resonating in your ears and you immediately feel your soul light up, like it’s been ages since you last felt so giddy. A chaotic mix of worry, excitement, longing, and bliss surges all throughout your body.

When you face the stale eyed man, your tingling heart shamelessly speeds up, a smile rising on your lips.

—

You wave him farewell as he leaves, and as he cuts eye contact, heat shoots up into your cheeks like crazy, which he totally misses out on.

One step out and Levi feels the presence of a stalker just around the alley. He gives her a bored look and starts walking away, which she then reveals herself and follows suit.

“So this is you and your secret lover’s getaway, huh?” Hange teases, obviously aiming to pry for more. Now what, she’s spying on him? This insane woman.

“Don’t be ridiculous, she has good tea,” Levi answers in nonchalance, staring right ahead the road. The woman makes silly noises at his response, similar to those sounds only she can produce when learning new discoveries about titans.

“Precisely,” the redhead says in satisfaction, nodding her head with her hands stroking her chin as if she got the answer she’s waiting for.

He shoves her actions aside, couldn’t care less about whatever conclusion she came up with. But no matter how much he keeps convincing his subconscious, it’s the tea that draw me in, he just can’t bring himself to believe in it.

[sgtjbbhasmyheart]

Drunk Texting Is(n’t) Bad for Your Health- Chapter Five

Series Summary: Talk about your unconventional meet-cute! Bucky receives a text by mistake requesting he prove he's not Reader's sister. The easy dialogue between Reader and Bucky sparks a natural friendship, but could it lead to more? Bucky still deems himself unworthy of any form of affection or love. Reader is hellbent to prove him wrong. With the help of some (meddling) friends along the way, Bucky may get his happily-ever-after after all.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3601

Warnings: ANGST, Bucky most definitely needs a hug halfway through this, bad language words

A/N: I’m flattered and frankly overwhelmed with the love and support everyone is showing for this little story. Thank you from the bottom of my heart! 🥰

A/N 2: divider credit- @firefly-graphics

In case you missed the update, I will try to publish a new chapter every Saturday from here on out. 🤞

DO NOT copy or replicate without my permission

Whistles and sirens were blaring inside Bucky’s head as he stared at Peter’s neighbor. Everything within him was screaming at him to run away. His anxiety ticked up. Could this really be (Y/N)? 

He would have recognized her voice anywhere. God only knew how many times he’d listened and relistened to her voicemail. He wasn’t obsessive; he just liked the dips-the peaks and valleys-in her voice and the self-deprecating laugh she’d made. And with his super soldier hearing- he’d learned a knack for these things.

Bucky stood unmoving and breathless while shaking (Y/N)’s hand in front of her door. All he could do was stare at her. He had never imagined in a million years meeting her face-to-face. It was like a dream. A weird but wonderful dream. 

He was stunned by her beauty as he gazed into her smiling face. Not that he’d ever pictured her being unattractive.

No siree.

It was a shock to have her here now, but to have her looking the way she did? (Y/N) was gorgeous. Her eyes sparkled with giddiness, and pink tinged the apples of her cheeks.

He must have finally died and gone to heaven. That was the only explanation he could think of right now.

Because there (Y/N) was, in front of him and in the flesh, still shaking his hand.

Still.

Bucky’s stomach swooped with the feeling of embarrassment. He could feel the skin of his face warming quickly. He was just like Lang meeting Steve at the airport in Germany. An overeager puppy. 

God, he was an idiot.

He caught an uncomfortable look flash across (Y/N)’s face but continued pumping her arm. Peter cleared his throat beside him, and (Y/N) grinned wider in response. 

A dazzling smile.

“Gonna need my hand back to unlock the door,” she said with a soft chuckle. 

Bucky dropped it like he’d been burned. He could see Peter giving him a goofy look out of the corner of his eye. Like that kid wasn’t awkward as fuck around girls. “Sorry,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with his flesh hand. 

What was he thinking, shaking her hand so long?

Bucky clumsily followed (Y/N) and Peter into her apartment after the deadbolt was unlocked and nearly dumped her grocery bags on the floor. He couldn’t take his eyes away from her. Peter threw him another weird look.

“Please excuse my friend,” Peter quipped, patting Bucky on the shoulder.  “Apparently, he just learned to walk yesterday.”

(Y/N) laughed politely at the joke, and Bucky blushed furiously. 

From the stories Steve had told him about their past and “sweeping dames off their feet,” why was this so hard? It should be like taking candy from a baby. He had a rapport with her, not that she knew, but it should be more comfortable than it was. His shoulders slumped.

“S-sorry,” Bucky stuttered out. (Y/N) smiled sweetly at the apology, and his chest constricted.

“Don’t worry about it,” (Y/N) reasoned, “I just had the floors waxed.” She winked at him as she grabbed a bag from his arms.

Bucky’s breath caught in his throat. She winked. She fucking winked!  

Was (Y/N) flirting? Did he flirt back? Did he even remember how? He would have known what to do if they were texting instead. Their whole relationship was easier when they weren’t face-to-face. When he couldn’t see how the light in the kitchen made her hair shine or how her eyes twinkled when she laughed, he was a lot smoother. 

Smooth like creamy peanut butter. 

It was so frustrating only remembering bits and snatches of his old memories. This situation was nothing like the girl at the coffee shop he sometimes visited or the corner market’s cashier. This was (Y/N). This was someone he’d reciprocate the advances from- given half a chance. Someone he definitely didn’t have feelings for, though.

Nope. Not at all. 

From somewhere hidden deep inside, the darkness crept in. You think she’s flirting with you? You think she wants someone like you? She pities you, his inner voice said—pity for a sad, broken man. 

The breath previously stuck inside him rushed out in a sob.  His stomach plunged to his feet again, but not in embarrassment this time. This time, it was for actually believing he might have a chance with (Y/N). Thinking she’d settle for someone like him. 

He was dangerous. He was a murderer.

(Y/N)’s face filled with concern, eyebrows pinching together, and she edged closer. She raised a hand to touch him but thought twice. “You okay?”

Bucky shook his head to dispel the bleak thoughts. “Ye-yeah, sorry.” The room kept spinning. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Would you like some water?” (Y/N) asked, rushing to the cupboard to pull down a glass to fill.

Peter stepped closer to his side. “You don’t look too good, man. Yer not havin’ one of your flashbacks, are ya?”

Bucky looked at Peter for a moment, puzzled. Flashback? His grapefruit was too scrambled to conjure up any of the horrors he experienced at night during the day. “No, kid. I’m fine,” he lied. 

Peter inched back slightly, but still within reach if the worst should happen. 

Bucky saw (Y/N) watching him expectantly, tilting the glass in his direction. “No, thank you, ma’am. Water won’t be necessary.”

He observed (Y/N)’s eyes slowly widen in shock.  

“Ma’am?” (Y/N) asked in mock offense. “Ma’am?”

Peter started laughing as Bucky’s mouth popped open in a horrified “O.” He tried to protest, but nothing would come out. 

(Y/N) turned to Peter, who was now gasping in laughter. “It’s the cardigan, huh?” she questioned jokingly. “It makes me look like a crazy cat lady, doesn’t it?”

Bucky’s face flushed instantly. “That’s not…” he argued, the end of his sentence coming out as a groan instead. 

How had this night and their meeting gone downhill so quickly? He couldn’t do anything right around (Y/N), it seemed.

How could he win her heart if he was just some bumbling fool? 

Oh, god! Was he actively trying to win (Y/N) over?

Bucky’s pulse hammered underneath his skin. He’d finally met the girl he was falling for, and he was mucking up the whole thing. The instinct to flee suddenly kicked into high gear. 

He took one last look at Peter, hunched over in laughter and holding his stomach. Bucky narrowed his eyes at the kid. He had some nerve! He slid his eyes over to where (Y/N) stood. Her expression was rapidly morphing from good-humored to regret. 

Bucky placed the final bag he held on the counter and huffed a sigh before walking past (Y/N) and Peter out of the kitchen, heading for the door. (Y/N) caught the nook of his elbow as he passed, stopping him.

He looked down at the delicate fingers wrapped around his arm, and his heart lurched. She wasn’t afraid, he thought. She knew who he was- what he was- and she wasn’t afraid. He brought his gaze back up to hers. He could easily break every finger of her hand, but there was no fear in her eyes—just remorse.

“I apologize,” (Y/N) assured. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” Her hand skimmed down his forearm to his wrist and left behind the fleeting feeling of her touch.

“It’s fine,” Bucky said gruffly. “I was leaving anyway.” He nodded at Peter, who had managed to pull himself together from his laughing fit, and gave (Y/N) a thin-lipped smile. He made his way to the door. 

(Y/N)’s face dropped as he walked away. “Oh. Well, thank you for your help with my groceries,” she called.

Bucky’s step faltered as he walked through the doorway. He glanced over his shoulder at (Y/N) for a moment and shut the door.

He had had no desire to leave the radiant presence of (Y/N), but if he didn't, the fluttering he felt inside would have turned into a full-blown panic attack while thinking about every misstep he’d taken. 

Reaching the sidewalk outside (Y/N) and Peter’s building, Bucky expelled a huge exhale. 

“Well, that was a fucking disaster,” he grumbled to himself. 

He stomped down the sidewalk to where he’d parked the car he’d borrowed from the compound. He wrenched the driver-side door open in frustration, nearly ripping the thing off. He slid inside and stared out the windshield. Was there a way back from this? Or was he destined to spend eternity in the friend zone?

Bucky wrung his hands around the steering wheel and let out a moan of exasperation. He started the ignition and gave one last glance to (Y/N)’s building. He tucked away any hope he thought he might’ve had with her in the far recesses of his mind and drove away. 

Bucky was trembling by the time he returned to the compound. He clenched and unclenched his fists as he strode down one of the many halls leading to his quarters. He had worked himself into a frenzy on the drive home. 

It was her, he thought, gliding his gloved hand through the hair that had come loose from the earlier knot he’d tied. It was definitely (Y/N).

There was no mistaking it was her, now. Bucky was absolutely sure. (Y/N)’s voicemail had played over and over in his mind on the ride upstate.

Bucky stalked down the hallway, cursing himself again for blowing any modicum of a chance he had with (Y/N).

What was he saying? Did he stand a real chance with her? He was The Winter fucking Solider. The Asset. Soldat. 

Of course not.

He growled as he moved closer to his apartment, his sanctuary. It was the only place he could find any real solace nowadays.

Struggling with his internal conflict, focusing too much on the what-ifs, he didn’t see the solid wall of muscle until it was too late.

“Whoa, Buck! Easy there,” Steve said as he steadied his dazed best friend. “Where’s the fire?”

Bucky glimpsed into Steve’s eyes, his own shimmering with sadness. Steve thought the world of him. He could do no wrong, according to Steve. What would he think after this? 

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, voice full of worry. 

“I fucked up, Stevie,” Bucky lamented, eyes now downcast to the floor.

“What happened?” Steve asked, grabbing hold of Bucky’s shoulder.  “What did you do?”

Bucky’s eyes flicked back up to Steve’s face, and he watched fear crawl across it.

His body practically crumpled inwardly. “It was her,” Bucky said. “She was right in front of me.”

“Her who?” Steve questioned. The look of fear slipped into one of misunderstanding once he realized no immediate threat or harm was coming to Bucky.

Bucky chuckled. “(Y/N).” His focus wasn’t on Steve anymore, but just over his right shoulder. His eyes were wistful. 

“(Y/N)?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “She was so...God, she was just so beautiful.”

Bucky proceeded when Steve continued to stare at him blankly. “She was a breath of fresh air after you’ve run at full-speed for what seems, like, forever.”

“A breath of fresh air?”

“Yes!”

“I’m still not exactly sure who we’re talkin’ about,” Steve confessed.

“God, punk! Pay attention,” Bucky groused, swiping both hands through his hair.

“Who’s (Y/N) again?”

“She’s the girl,” Bucky explained.

“The girl?” Steve asked, still not quite understanding.

“The girl,” Bucky emphasized.

A look of realization finally dawned on Steve’s face. “(Y/N)? The girl you’ve been texting?”

“YES!” Bucky exclaimed emphatically. “For a smart guy, you can be pretty dense.”

“Wait, how?”

“I was helping Parker with some schoolwork, and she’s his neighbor, apparently,” Bucky answered.

“She’s Peter’s neighbor? In Queens?” 

“Did you have a stroke or somethin’?” Bucky wondered. “Yes, in Queens. Next door to Parker.” 

“You didn’t tell me she was in New York,” Steve said, a hint of hurt in his voice.

“I didn’t think it mattered at the time,” Bucky admitted. “It wasn’t like I ever planned to meet her in person.”

“So, what now? Did you ask her on a date?” 

“What?!” Bucky asked in disbelief. He goggled at his best friend like he’d grown a second head. “What part of ‘I fucked up’ didn’t you understand?”

“It couldn’t’ve been that bad,” Steve soothed. “What exactly happened?”

Bucky recounted the whole bungled interaction, down to every gory detail.

“And you just stood there, staring at her?” Steve asked, slightly wincing in secondhand discomfort.

“With my mouth open and everything. Like I was a goddamn fish out of water,” Bucky stated candidly. He scuffed a foot across the linoleum floor. He could feel the anxiety building inside him again.

“Maybe it’s not as bad as you think?” 

Bucky pulled his phone from his pocket and thumbed to the messaging app. “Parker said, and I quote, ‘Way to make it weird with Miss (Y/L/N).’”

Steve looked nonplussed. “H-how?”

Bucky threw up his arms in defeat. His hands landed atop his head, and his fingers snaked into his hair, pulling at the roots. “I dunno what happened! I realized I was actually talking to (Y/N), and my insides turned to jelly!” 

Steve stepped forward and guided Bucky’s hands from his hair. Empathy and compassion filled his crystalline eyes.

“How...how do I fix this, Stevie?” Bucky whimpered softly.

Steve sighed. “I don’t know if it can be fixed, but you need to talk to her.”

Bucky blanched at the thought. “I-I-I can’t,” he stammered.

“Why?”

“I like what we have,” Bucky explained. “I like that I’m just James from Brooklyn with her.”

His mouth thinned as he picked at his flesh hand’s thumbnail. “Plus, if I tell (Y/N) who I really am, she’ll judge everything going forward on today’s meeting.”

“You really like her, huh?” Steve queried.

“Well, yeah,” Bucky answered, blushing a bit. “She’s pretty great.”

A smirk lifted at the corners of Steve’s mouth. “No, I mean, you really like her.”

Bucky’s blush deepened. “I don’t-I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

Steve huffed a small laugh, faintly shaking his head. He held up his hands in mock surrender. He took a step closer to his best friend. “Whatever you decide to do- whether it’s to tell her the truth or just suss out the situation- just talk to her.” He placed a hand on Bucky’s right shoulder and squeezed gently. “Don’t wait too long, though, and miss your opportunity. You’ll be kickin’ yourself.”

Bucky nodded his head in agreement. “I know.”

“Everyone deserves good things to come to them. You most of all, Buck.” Steve squeezed one more time before dropping his hand to his side.

Bucky blinked rapidly at the sentiment, trying his best to keep the emotion out of his eyes. He smiled. “Thank you, Steve. For everything.”

After a long shower to help himself unwind and wash away all the stress of the day, Bucky was sprawled out on his bed in a t-shirt and loose-fitting sweats. His phone was in the palm of his hand, and his heart was doing flip flops in his chest. His anxiety was gradually spiking, undoing the purpose of the earlier shower. It had been nearly two hours since he charged out of (Y/N)’s apartment. Why hadn’t she texted him? 

Before he could overthink it more than he already had, he punched in a text and initiated the conversation.

Bucky Hey, doll. How was your day?

He stared at the screen of his phone, willing (Y/N) to reply. 

He watched the words go in and out of focus as he continued to observe the unchanging text thread. His right palm was beginning to sweat.

Several minutes passed before Bucky gave up and threw the phone to the bed. He tapped his fingers in a rhythm against his thighs to keep them occupied, only to find himself crossing his arms across his chest moments later. Seconds afterward, he uncrossed his arms, balling his hands into fists. He reached for the book on the nightstand, hoping for a distraction from the silence of his phone. 

He was inevitably waiting for a text he knew wasn’t coming. 

Bucky consciously tried to read the words on the page, but his mind kept drifting. (Y/N) was smart. She had obviously put two and two together, and she was currently composing a polite yet firm text dismissing him.

He couldn’t take it anymore. The silence was maddening!

He shoved the bookmark back in the book, tossed it on the nightstand roughly, and got up from the bed to start pacing. Periodically, his hands would find their way into his wet locks, tugging ever so slightly.

After what seemed like the twentieth circuit around the bedroom, a soft buzzing came from the mattress top. Bucky rushed toward the bed and retrieved the device. He clutched it to his heaving chest before exhaling loudly.

Moment of truth, he thought.

He raised the phone to see the screen.

(Y/N) Hey, sorry! I must’ve dozed off while taking my bath. 

(Y/N) Didn’t mean to leave you hanging!

A weight lifted from Bucky’s shoulders. She hadn’t purposely meant to ignore his text. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Bucky Don’t worry about it.

(Y/N) I guess I was more tired than I thought. 

Bucky Should I let you go?

(Y/N) No, no...I can chat.

Bucky So, how was your day?

(Y/N) It was good. The subway was on time this morning. Timmons wasn’t too much of a pain in the ass, even though we are in the middle of putting together a huge, new account. 

(Y/N) I had dinner with Robyn at Penelope to discuss centerpieces for the wedding. 

Bucky held his breath as he watched the ellipses blink on his phone. This is it. This is where (Y/N) let him down easy.

(Y/N) Then, I came home to a hot bath and a bottle of wine.

Bucky reread the last text three times before it sank in that (Y/N) hadn’t mentioned anything about running into him. Maybe it really was okay.

(Y/N) Oh, and I met my first Avenger today.

There it was. That’s what Bucky had been waiting for. Butterflies erupted in his stomach and flapped slowly up to his chest. His thumbs gracelessly typed out his message.

Bucky Oh, yeah? Who’d you meet?

Bucky tried to calm his breathing as he anticipated (Y/N)’s reply.

(Y/N) It is was something like Bunky or Borky. The one with the metal arm.

Borky?!

Bucky You mean Bucky?

(Y/N) Yup. Thats the one!

Bucky Well…???

(Y/N) He was absolutely adorkable! 

Bucky Adorkable? 🤔

What the hell does that even mean? Bucky wondered, gripping his phone a little tighter.

(Y/N) You know, adorable but dorky. Adorkable!

Bucky Oh.

(Y/N) He wouldn’t stop shaking my hand when my neighbor introduced us and he was just staring. he almost dropped my groceries all over the kitchen because he wouldn’t stop staring. 

Bucky Wait, your neighbor knows an Avenger?

(Y/N) Pssh! Im pretty sure hes an avenger too!

Bucky What?!?! 😳 Which one???

Bucky’s heart started galloping as he read (Y/N)’s words. Did she know about Parker?

(Y/N) hes obviously spiderman

Oh, shit! She did. 

Bucky How do you figure?

(Y/N) same height/build...ive listened to interviews with spiderman...sounds just like peter...he has an “internship” at stark industries...and i saw peter climbing up the side of our building once in the spiderman costume

(Y/N) spiderman is peter parker

(Y/N) dont tell anyone i told you though...its a secret

Bucky How much wine have you had, doll?

(Y/N) 1 or 2 glasses y?

Bucky chuckled at (Y/N)’s obliviousness. She was quite “adorkable” when she was drinking.

Bucky Your grammar has gone to shit, and you think your neighbor is Spider-Man.

(Y/N) grammar schwammer and he is

Bucky threw his head back in a full laugh. He was suddenly glad he took Steve’s advice and texted (Y/N). She really wasn’t bothered he’d made a fool of himself earlier. At least, not with a little wine in her.

(Y/N) Like borky, you should have seen borky barnes! he turned red as a tomato when he almost dropped my stuff...i think someone was smitten

Bucky’s stomach rolled when he noticed the subject change. She wasn’t going to let it go.

Bucky Can you blame him? I bet you’re cute as a button.

(Y/N) well obvi...i feel bad though...i kinda gave him a hard time for calling me ma’am...i regretted it the sec it happened...he kinda stormed out...i know i hurt his feelings

(Y/N) he was just being polite cuz you know- manners

Bucky What would you do if you saw him again?

Now was his chance to see where he stood. To know if he even had a fighting chance.

(Y/N) probably apologize profusely then ask him out for a cup of coffee

Bucky You’d ask him out for a cup of coffee?

(Y/N) y not? hes easy on the eyes and when those baby blues are locked on you-its hypnotizing

And just like that, Bucky knew he was back in the game.

10:37 pm- later that night

Bucky Hey, dipshit. (Y/N) knows you’re Spider-Man.

Parker

Chapter Four | Chapter Six (Part 1)

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[cosmic-goof]

U.A. Sports Festival: Round 2!

It’s time for Kiyoko versus Tsutsumi! Class 1-Y versus Class 1-X!

Word Count: 8.3k+ Content Warnings: Descriptions of violence and slightly abnormal body morphing (courtesy of kiyoko) Enjoy!

“LLLLLLLADIESSSS, GENTLEMEN, AND OTHERS! Are you ready for the second battle of round two?!” Present Mic’s voice pumped up the crowd through the stadium loudspeakers, the responding cheers assaulting the competitors with a wall of noise as they ascended their staircases up to the arena platform. Kiyoko felt like she was shaking from the adrenaline, but it wasn’t observable as she flexed her fists nervously by her sides and appeared at the top of the stairs, looking across the length of the field as her opponent came into view in tandem. “First up, from Combined Class 1-Y, you saw her in that fearsome fight of overwhelming strength meeting an immovable force! Kiyoko Hagane, Quirk: Metallurgy! Metallurgy gives the user a steel endoskeleton, and allows the user to morph all four of her limbs into several different metal constructs! Wow!” “And in the other corner, second but not destined to be, with a shockingly fast first round, Tsutsumi Natsumi! Quirk: Shaaaaaade Demon! What a spicy name for a cool quirk! ‘Shade Demon’ allows the user to become stronger, faster, and demonstrates an enhanced tolerance for pain! In addition, Natsumi-chan can also form constructs from shadow! So COOL-!!” Present Mic was cut off by the sound of an elbow making contact with something near his ribs as Eraserhead kept him on track. “Focus, idiot.” “I know I know,” Sporting his signature sheepish expression for his friend for a moment before Present Mic whipped back around to lean enthusiastically towards his microphone once more with a cheer. “Let’s hear it for our young soon-to-be-champions!” The roar from the crowd fell away from her ears as Kiyoko focused on her opponent, approaching the arena. Tsutsumi Natsumi. All horns, lava-red hair, and fiery grit. Outside of classes, Kiyoko hadn’t yet had an opportunity to interact with the other girl very much, but what was a good indicator of her personality was the discussion the two had had when they found out they’d be fighting against each other in the second round.

“My blades?” Kiyoko blinked at the question, before offering an almost sheepish, half-shrug. “We didn’t use them in the first round because we knew that while Evan could make bone constructs, not only is steel easily stronger than bone every time, but we thought it’d be pretty disturbing for people to watch pieces of him still moving around after I’d cut them aside on live television. We thought it was a better idea to just avoid that scenario altogether.” Kiyoko paused for a moment, tilting her head to the side slightly as she considered her soon-to-be opponent. “...Why do you ask?”

Tsumi nodded, “I see. Good to know that we have similar views regarding these kinds of things.” Tsumi paused, “That doesn’t answer your question, sorry. I ask because I wanted to know your thoughts on the matter of using weapons. My quirk allows me to create constructs as well, so I wanted to discuss some ground rules for our fight. Don’t want our careers ending before they start now do we?”

“Take up your positions you two, and the fight will soon commence! The energy is high for this one in the stadium tonight, listeners!”

The discussion had been a welcome surprise to Kiyoko, and had immediately colored their competitive relationship in a positive light, she thought, as her foot passed over the boundary line and she entered the arena proper, Tsutsumi already awaiting her on the other side.

Miss Me was the presiding referee for their match.

She took in a breath, before exhaling slowly and offering Tsumi a smile and a nod as she lowered into a ready stance across from her. “Good luck Tsutsumi-chan!” The expression she’d earned with her comment was a quizzical one, before Tsutsumi shrugged. “Weird to wish your opponent good luck, but same to you I guess.” “...Ah.” Was Kiyoko’s brilliant response as she now recognized the problem. It got a nervous laugh out of her. “But I can’t help it- I want us both to do well!”

“ARE YOU REEEEEEEADY?!” Present Mic crowed. “ROUND Two, Fight Two, Begins!!”

Like the beginning of her round one, Kiyoko’s metal immediately snapped into place on her limbs and she bolted forward, her bare steel thundering against the concrete of the arena with the dull clanging of semi-hollow metal. Gotta stay away from that border as much as possible. That was the main goal hovering in the back of her mind as she focused everything else on her opponent as they rushed towards each other. Tsutsumi had a very similar approach, aiming to quickly close the distance between the two of them. Her plan: hit hard, hit fast, and don’t get hit. Pretty simple as far as plans though. Tsutsumi wasn’t one for grand battle plans, much preferring to adjust to how her opponent fights on the spot. It made her unpredictable, a challenge that Kiyoko would have to overcome. 

After her first few steps towards Kiyoko, Tsutsumi activated her quirk. Black “smoke” formed around her hands and feet as her eyes began to glow like gold. Her speed also increased substantially as her quirk came to life. 

The dark masses surrounding her hands seemed to shift and in the blink of an eye formed into two daggers. She’d start with them, then change to another weapon if needed. For now though Tsumi just wanted to land the opening hit. Kiyoko brought her arms up with a screech of metal as the daggers deflected off of the metal blades she’d formed jutting out of her forearms. She quickly slashed back at her opponent, putting on the pressure in an attempt to make the other girl switch to the backfoot even if just for a moment, she would pursue her, before falling back again to a defensive form and looking for opportunities to capitalize on.

It didn’t take long for Tsumi to know that she was outmatched when it came to professional training. Kiyoko’s dedication to martial arts was omnipresent in her fighting. So she sought to be more unpredictable than normal, using moves that would catch Kiyoko off guard and would then give her time to recover from sticky situations. Her quirk did give her a speed boost but she’d still have to be careful to move out of risky positions her moves put her in.

Tsumi’s onslaught was powerful, and not without purpose, giving Kiyoko little to no openings to offer much of a reply herself - she had to be so careful not to take any of the attacks head-on, while keeping up her defenses before committing, finally, to offensive attacks. 

Once again Tsumi came in for an attack, utilizing both of her daggers in her attempt to get some damage off on her opponent. As long as at least one of her daggers hit she’d be in a good spot to go for another hit. If not, back up and try again. With that in mind she slashed at Kiyoko...and felt a jolt up her arm as the blade was stopped short suddenly. Kiyoko stared at her from where she stood, teeth clamped onto the blade and not budging. She hadn’t actually intended on blocking this way - it just sort of...happened once she’d realized she’d fallen for the feint with the right hand, and her left wouldn’t have been able to come up to block in time, so she’d lunged downward with her mouth open and bitten her opponent’s weapon. To her surprise, however, shadow was the sturdiest stuff she’d ever bitten - she couldn’t shatter it, even as she increased the pressure not unlike a hydraulic press. They were at an awkward impasse, as Kiyoko had yet to let go and could only stare awkwardly at Tsumi as she tried to figure out what to do. “...I didn’t think this through.” She admitted, a bit mumbled, around the blade.

“Uhh…” Tsumi trailed off. This was not the blocking technique that she had expected from Kiyoko, but it’s what happened and now she didn’t know what to do except stare at her equally confused opponent. “Umm maybe… you know let’s just take a couple steps back from each other, move on from this, and continue like it didn’t happen.” “A brilliant idea.” Kiyoko agreed, before unceremoniously spitting out the blade and back-pedaling as she wiped her mouth with the back of a hand. She can’t believe she just did that on national television. Gods. Tsumi nodded as she dissolved her daggers and backed up. Once they had both finished their back pedals, Tsumi looked at Kiyoko and spoke.”Ready? And Resume!” Kiyoko reformed her hand that she’d used to wipe her mouth into a sword in response, nodding shortly, before switching off the backfoot to meet her in the middle once more. 

The swords Kiyoko makes are never ordinary blades, however. Tsutsumi would quickly learn this, as Kiyoko warped her blades however she pleased to make a blocked blow into a very nearly successful one anyway as the blade, once stopped, would weave and shift its way around the blade that’d blocked it, and split off into spindly pointed ends, like sharpened steel chopsticks, that jabbed at her opponent’s arm. It was only thanks to Tsumi’s enhanced speed and quick thinking that she was able to evade having an arm imitate a pin cushion, but Kiyoko had only just begun to test Tsumi’s speed. She backpedaled, surprisingly, and clapped her hands together, where they fused into one long curved blade, that split into two as her biceps grew in and upwards to form an imitation of a samurai’s war mask and upper body armor over her face and the front of her torso. Kiyoko’s Soldier’s Veneer formed, she was now in a better position to commit to attacking more than defending. She planted her feet in a wide stance, and took in a breath. As she exhaled, her quirk exploded forth with speed as her eyes snapped open and the swords slithered through the air like snakes, going so far as to form snakeheads at the ends, towards her opponent. Though they may have looked intimidating to an onlooker, for those with a discerning gaze, it was clear Kiyoko was moving with the intent to latch on with the sword snakes and immobilize Tsumi. But first she had to catch her.

Tsumi watched Kiyoko change and form her constructs into a completely different form that she had seen before. Now Kiyoko was turning up the heat, and that seemed to mean that daggers weren’t going to cut it anymore. A different strategy was going to be needed to combat this. It was time to get creative with how she would attack, especially since there was now armor in her way. Her mind quickly ran through a wide variety of things she could try to break through Kiyoko’s new defense, until it hit her. The perfect way to break through. 

 Seeing a chance to follow through on her idea, Tsumi used her full speed to quickly set herself up. Charging at Kiyoko, Tsumi jumped off the ground then used the top of Kiyoko’s sword as a springboard to launch herself up higher, setting herself up for a hit as she forced the tip of the blade down with her jump. Forming her claymore mid-air the sudden added weight added momentum to Tsumi’s attack. It was a risky move, that was for sure. But it was the first time she’d done it, so Kiyoko had to be caught a little off guard. Add her enhanced speed onto that and a fair amount of risk had been mitigated. Though she knew that she wouldn’t be able to pull the same trick twice. The claymore came down faster than Kiyoko could move. Her arms were angled down, her guard broken from the weight of Tsumi’s jump, and it was a panicked scramble to try to intercept the claymore as she split her sword in two and it started to shrink as she brought her arms up to guard- Just as a loud CLIANGK!!! reverberated out from where the claymore had slipped in between her arms that she had been bringing up to stop it, too slow, and Kiyoko’s eyes widened as she watched the claymore halt, embedded in the exact center of the false forehead of the armor...and continued to watch as a crack split down the entire length of the construct until it fell off to either side of her, pinging off the concrete by her feet. She didn’t have time to give the shells of her former armor more than a stunned glance before she was gritting her teeth and bringing up her sword arms to smash the claymore to the side and lash out with an extended metal-leg kick to Tsumi’s left side, aiming for the kidney. It went on like this for what felt like forever for the two girls; one would come up with a creative rebuttal and the other would parry, dodge, or tear the attempt to gain an upperhand apart. And then the other side would swap tactics and come up with a creative attack, only for the other to somehow twist out of the way or parry or jump to dodge it. Slipping free, ducking, twisting, punching, shoving, jumping, any way for the two to escape the other and prevail was attempted and responded to in kind for minutes on end. Kiyoko lashed out with her right leg as her swords turned into hands to grasp the claymore and try to hold it in place even if just for a second or two as the leg extended, grew another leg near the base of the thigh to support her torso in its absence, and grow a hand in the place of the original foot as it snatched at Tsumi’s ankle, Kiyoko jerking her leg back to roughly yank Tsumi’s leg out from under her as she twisted the claymore down and to the side, deflecting it and lunging forward as her leg brought Tsumi’s towards her.

Tsumi’s eyes widened as Kiyoko pulled her in. This wasn’t a position she’d want to be in.  Especially as Kiyoko moved to make it a proper grapple. If she didn’t do something quick she could lose it here. She tried to brute force her way out of Kiyoko's grasp, however that appeared wildly ineffective. The grapple made it impossible for her to utilize her strength by not allowing her any leverage in the position. There didn’t seem like there was much she could do at this point. Unless…   

It was risky but it would cause a break if done right. So in a last attempt to break through Tsumi formed a sword to surprise Kiyoko and force a break. Making sure that it’s initial position wasn’t going to lead to a major accidental stab wound.  

Kiyoko couldn’t help the shocked yelp that escaped her as a sword appeared in Tsumi’s grasp - (was this how people felt when she did it?!?!?) - hovering with the tip pointed at her right shoulder, and Kiyoko immediately broke the grapple and shoved Tsumi off of her, rolling away as fast as she could before scrambling to her feet, forming her forearms into blades once more.

There was twisting at the metal knees at impossible angles in order to dodge a split-second sword summoning, a condensed pair of arms to withstand Tsumi’s blows better as they blocked and parried and punched at the gaps in her odd defense. Her legs would suddenly shrink her height by three feet, - ducking under two swipes of Tsumi’s knives, - and send her forward under Tsutsumi’s guard before having her grow and throw the top of her skull up at her chin, narrowly missing as Tsumi used her enhanced speed to barely jerk her head back and out of the way as she stumbled into a backpedal, gaining space between her and Kiyoko again and keeping her back as she re-summoned her claymore and swiped at her legs.

“Almost ten minutes and neither of them seem to be making any ground,” Miss me...couldn’t help but agree with the comms chatter she was hearing from the piece in her ear, her brow furrowing. She watched the two girls go back and forth. Typical matches were maybe a third of what their match was, and they weren’t even done yet. In fact she didn’t know when they would be, it was a stalemate. 

Her concern for the match only grew. The first signs of fatigue were starting to show in the two, and in a weapons fight that becomes dangerous quickly. But to end it now, is that really something she could do in good faith? The way ties are decided are the same every year: an arm wrestle. It’s a quick show of strength, perfect for moving things along. But this match, these two...calling it as a draw...Could she really do that to either of them? 

Their blades let out a rippling clang as metal screeched against congealed shadow and sparks flew, Kiyoko ducking under a slash as she batted it away with her arm only to have to form a shield out of her right arm to catch the incoming blow Tsumi retorted the parry with, in her opposite hand. She watched as Tsumi dented the metal once, twice, three times, as the groaning of metal punched through the air like a blow to Miss Me’s gut. Kiyoko reformed the shield into a fist that caught the next blow by snatching Tsumi’s hand and twisting her wrist in her grip by the thumb and forcing the knife from her grasp as she broke her grip - and had to quickly use her quirk in her legs to front flip over Tsutsumi who had lashed out after reversing the grip on her wrist and using Kiyoko’s arm as a brace to whip a roundhouse kick at her torso. She was rewarded with metal stretching from her hand to behind her, and for all of Kiyoko’s effort, the disarming move hadn’t given her any ground. The two recovered their weapons, and in a perfect parallel, lunged back into the fight.

Miss Me took a deep breath, there was only one thing to do. Even if it hurt her in the moment. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she allowed for two of her students to get injured because she didn’t call the match earlier. She grabbed the whistle around her neck, and her whistle screeched shrilly, reaching the walls of the arena and causing the two students to stumble awkwardly as they forced their moves to miss the other at the last second, before turning to look at her with two equally confused (and fatigued) faces.

“Girls, come over here.” Miss Me waved the students her way, and they shared a glance, Tsumi cocking an eyebrow and Kiyoko shrugging in response, before they joined her. “I’m calling your match a tie, girls. I’m sorry, but I’ve determined it’s too dangerous for you two to continue fighting like this for much longer, you’re both losing steam AND-” She said, sharply cutting off complaints before they could leave either of their faces. She wasn’t finished speaking. “And, that neither of you are making headway against the other. You’re getting nowhere, and I really am sorry.” She made sure to hold them both in a heavy gaze as she tried to impart as much sincerity in her words as possible.“But I have to call the match, we have to think of the other contestants and their matches too.” Kiyoko stared at her in a stunned silence as Miss Me turned away from the two of them to face the rest of the stadium, flipping down the microphone attached to her headpiece. “After much consideration, I am declaring this match has ended in a tie!” Her voice rang out through the stadium speakers, earning a variety of reactions from both the outcries of the crowd and the announcers at this unexpected turn of events. Miss Me spoke up again after a second or two of bearing the uproarious response, waiting for a break in the wall of sound to continue. “A tie-breaker will take place to determine the winner of this match, and we will proceed with the traditional tie-breaker shortly. The rules are to be presented by the match’s presenters.”

Aizawa couldn’t say he was surprised, though he did narrow his eyes a little bit in...consideration of how this turn of events would affect the two first years. But everyone had to remember life wasn’t fair sometimes. Even for heroes. It was still a shame, though. “W-Well, this is certainly an unusual turn of events, BUT!” Present Mic shot right back up to his usual energy levels as he smoothed things over. “Not so unusual that we’ve never planned for something like this before! That’s right folks, a tie-breaker is in order for this match, and the rules are simple! A good old-fashioned arm wrestle to determine the winner! Elbows on the surface at all times, no additional assistance from opposite hands, and quirk use is A-OKAY!”

Kiyoko felt like the world had just fallen from around her as her stomach sailed through her feet in quiet, stunned horror. They had to know. There was no way Miss Me didn’t know. The armwrestle was as good as a death sentence to any chance of Kiyoko winning the round. Her physical strength just couldn’t keep up with Tsumi’s, even with condensing her quirk - there was a reason she knew she’d have to deflect all of her attacks from the very beginning. It was her only chance at all to survive as a competitor in the fight. And they’d just announced they’d taken it away from her. In front of everyone. No...No…!!! She could feel her face heating up and a burning start to sting her eyes as she lowered her gaze to the tops of her silvered feet as she gripped her hands into fists at her sides in an attempt to get the emotions to stop.

Tsumi looked over at Kiyoko, they both had the same thoughts. This can’t be how it ends. It can’t. This match could have ended the normal way, so why? Why call it a tie? Tsumi wanted to fight it, to call it out and demand they fight as normal. And she almost did, opening her mouth to start her rebuttal, but she stopped. Even if she did say something it wouldn’t change what was happening, and that only served to piss her off more. Her mind spiralled with thoughts and emotions. The most prominent of them all were why and the reasons her brain could think of. Despite all the emotions she was feeling, her expression remained neutral. She couldn’t lose her control now, not with basically all of Japan watching.

Once again, she swallowed her feelings for the sake of other people.

“I’ll do it.” Kiyoko broke her silence, looking up from her feet to level a gaze somewhere between resignation and determination towards Miss Me. “I’ll do the armwrestle.” With those words, she’d sealed her fate. She wondered what her parents would do, if they were in her situation. She had no idea, at all.

That sudden declaration from Kiyoko snapped Tsumi out of her thoughts. Kiyoko wasn’t backing down from this so neither should she. “I’ll agree to it as well,” she paused and looked Kiyoko dead in the eye, “on one condition. Kiyoko, you give me everything you’ve got. No giving up just yet.” Tsumi forced a smile in an attempt to help Kiyoko feel a bit better about their situation, though the pain behind it was clear. 

Fight to the bitter end, huh? What a silly condition. Kiyoko had thought that went without saying.

She clapped her hands on her cheeks twice to psyche herself up, before letting out a breath and fixing a determined gaze on Tsumi as she nodded fiercely, shoving down the despair that had been trying to bubble up, burning it up with her determination. Tsumi deserved her best attempt, even if Kiyoko knew what the result would be. “Of course.” Seeing that the two girls had reached an agreement, Miss Me led them over to the table Cementoss raised from the floor of the arena for the two of them, letting them each take their positions on either side.

Tsumi walked to her side of the table. She didn’t even realize it but she was biting her tongue, perhaps to distract herself from how much she wanted to fight what was happening and to stop her emotions from triggering a quirk activation. Betraying the appearance of calmness she had on. She exhaled sharply before placing her elbow on the table, ready for Kiyoko to take her hand to start the arm wrestle. Kiyoko was...handling her emotions with slightly more subtlety, if only because she couldn’t actually afford to bite her lip. She lowered herself to brace an elbow on the table, the silver of her metal sliding into place as it slid down from her shoulder until it closed over her fingertips, cool to the touch as she clasped Tsumi’s hand in hers. She was trying to ignore her heart beating in her ears as Miss Me raised a hand, preparing to declare the start of the bout. Kiyoko thought, maybe, her arm would be shaking if it weren’t solid metal at the moment. She exhaled slowly, and locked eyes with Tsumi as Miss Me’s hand stilled its apex. “BEGIN!” Miss Me’s arm fell, and Kiyoko, having condensed all the metal she could into her one arm, put every ounce of her remaining strength into pushing Tsutsumi’s hand down. ...And to her confusion, there was some give, and then more, and slightly more ground was given - and Kiyoko risked switching her gaze from their hands to Tsutsumi’s eyes and- She felt like she’d just been slapped in the face as she didn’t see the tell-tale yellow glow of Tsutsumi’s quirk consistently in her eyes. She was using it in short spurts, putting on a show, as if Kiyoko actually stood a chance. For the first time, Kiyoko felt a well of anger burn bright enough and swiftly enough to burst forth from her in a bark. “Tsutsumi I am giving it my all, the least I deserve is your all in kind.” Don’t insult me. She mentally braced herself, and refused to close her eyes or look away as she held Tsutsumi’s eyes in her steely gaze. End it, Tsutsumi. 

Tsumi didn’t look at Kiyoko. She couldn’t. Her emotions were all over the place and a feeling of overstimulation was starting to come over her. The flickering of her quirk on and off wasn’t her putting on a show, it was her losing control and Kiyoko’s words didn’t help. She wanted to win this festival more than anything but this didn’t feel like the right way to do it. But this is how it has to be done now and Kiyoko was right, she needed to give it her all and push her emotions aside. Wouldn’t be the first time she had done so. After one last deep breath Tsumi looked up at Kiyoko and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Tsumi’s quirk activated, and there was a loud groaning of metal in that same instant.

Kiyoko offered her a tiny, relieved smile, shared only between the two of them.

Me too.

Creeeeeeakashk!

[Cont.]

[solo-23]

I'd debated about whether or not to post this because it's definitely a rant and there is definitely a lot of negativity, but I need to vent after last night's episode (with some leftover issues from earlier this season, too). If Betty is your favorite and you don't like to read anything negative about her, you will not like this post.

1. The way the voicemail has been blown completely out of proportion by the writers, reviewers, and some shippers is ridiculous. We keep hearing about how it was terrible, emotionally abusive, toxic, and something that Jughead definitely needed to apologize for, but nothing he said was actually out of line. There is absolutely nothing in that voicemail that Betty should have been surprised about, let alone treating it like it somehow turns her into the victim in the fall of Bughead.

It's not surprising that Jughead has now apologized twice for the voicemail, even if he doesn't actually remember all of it, because he knows that it hurt Betty. He can also probably guess what he said because he knows what he feels and how it can be exaggerated when he's feeling depressed or under the influence of drugs and alcohol. Generally if you actually admit what you're thinking or feeling when you know it would hurt someone, you feel bad about it. It doesn't matter if it's true or not, or if you're under the influence. A good person apologizes if they know they hurt someone. Jughead is a good person.

Just a note here, I've seen other people saying that Betty's actions while high should be excused just like people have said Jughead's voicemail should be excused because he was under the influence. Being under the influence DOES NOT excuse the voicemail.

The fact that Betty cheated on Jughead, did continue to sneak around with Archie while debating whether or not she wanted to "officially" pursue him, hid the whole affair until Jughead actually caught on and she had to make up a direct lie to his face or confess, never actually explained anything to Jughead (things like she was the one who stopped the affair, she wanted to stay with Jughead, etc.) even after he asked if they could talk about it, stood him up at Pop's a year later, and then stood him up again at the book release party justify Jughead's voicemail. And he has apologized for it twice.

2. That is why it was so intensely frustrating for Betty to just brush off his apology (again) and then turn the conversation to her, but without actually apologizing for anything. When Jughead mentioned not really being able to remember the voicemail, she could have brought up what bothered her in it so (a) he would know and (b) they could actually discuss the issues, which could have led into Betty actually explaining what happened with the cheating, including how the affair ended, and she could have apologized for that. It still wouldn't have been fully satisfying because Betty never apologizes first for her actions, but it would've been better than nothing. She also could have apologized for standing him up, although at least she explained why she didn't make it to the book release party.

3. However, she still didn't admit to or apologize for giving away Jughead's manuscript. The entire reason Jughead relapsed into drinking and almost plagiarized Cora is because Betty gave Jessica his manuscript. No, Betty does not get credit for "saving" Jughead because she was present when he got a phone call from Samm and admitted that he wasn't the author. She's the reason he was in that position in the first place. Yes, she had been drugged. Yes, Tabitha was present and didn't stop her. No, neither of those things excuse it. It also doesn't excuse her from sharing the voicemail with Tabitha and Jessica.

Why not? She and Tabitha were still shown as functional when all of this happened. Jessica admitted that she drugged them to try to get the manuscript. They were both capable of thinking and arguing. Betty chose to give the manuscript to Jessica. It wasn't until afterward that Betty and Tabitha started being really impacted by the drugs. Jughead's manuscript wasn't Betty's (or Tabitha's) to give away and doing so completely screwed Jughead over.

There are some questions here--did he switch over to his typewriter and that's why there was no backup? did he forget to save a copy on his laptop? did his laptop crash or get lost? who knows, but in the story it doesn't matter. There was one copy and Betty gave it away, placing Jughead in the position of losing his agent or plagiarizing another author.

Also, for playing the voicemail, Jessica had just brought the drugged fries to the table. No one is shown as having felt the effects of the drugs until Tabitha made a comment about being warm after the voicemail is over. Betty had been reluctant to help from the beginning, before Tabitha mentioned the "don't be a Betty" line, and made fairly rude comments about Jughead throughout the episode. I don't think she needs to apologize to Jughead for sharing it, but I also thought that playing the victim and having some people blame it on "being high" was ridiculous.

4. You cannot convince me that Betty cares about Jughead in the slightest when he was telling her he was an alcoholic and he's trying to get better and he's clearly drinking alcohol right in front of her and her response is "I'm an addict, too. I'm addicted to serial killers." She's struggling, yes, and it's good that she's opening up, but if she cared about Jughead at all an appropriate response here would be "So, why are you drinking?" or "are you okay?" Show some sort of concern for someone who is relapsing in front of your face. Jughead does it for Betty when he suggests she should take a break, even though he's in a moral quandary caused by Betty, depressed, and drunk.

Also, no, chasing serial killers is not an addiction in the same way as drugs or alcohol and it's insulting to say they're the same. Chasing serial killers could be described as a compulsion for Betty, or a hyperfixation, but it's not the same. It's difficult, but you can choose to not follow a compulsion without experiencing the often severe physical side effects experienced by actual addicts. I'm glad Betty recognized that she has a problem, but no, that is not an addiction.

5. The entire conversation is extremely awkward. It's clear that it isn't what Jughead had in mind, but his life that he had just been starting to get back together fell apart. He sank to new (or at least different) lows. Betty seemed like she wanted to leave as soon as she got there (understandable given how awkward it was, even secondhand) and disappeared once Jughead was distracted by a phone call. It's understandable, but disappointing. The part that was really frustrating, though, was that after talking to Jughead about how unhealthy her serial killer obsession is and how she's worried about her mom, she still goes out. Alice was passed out on the couch, which Betty paused to acknowledge. That should have been a turning point for Betty and it just wasn't. Screw these writers.

6. I loved that Tabitha and Jughead had mutual apologies, discussed their issues, and genuinely seemed to care about each other. I also loved that Jughead still cares and worries about Betty (frustrating as it is when it seems unreciprocated) because it's so true to Jughead's character.

7. It is absolutely fine and understandable if Betty has moved on from Jughead. She seemed to believe that if he found out about the cheating in their senior year, it would be the end of their relationship. She started shutting him out and trying to move on the next day.

However, as a Jughead fan, it's intensely annoying to see him still struggling with the lack of closure and continuing to have feelings for Betty after all of that. I would have preferred to see either both of them move on, then rediscover each other later (or not, depending on where the show is going), or have Betty be the one who still clearly has feelings for Jughead and have her regret blowing up the relationship.

8. Overall, I hate a lot of what the writers have done this season. I don't particularly like any of the backstories for the characters during the time jump, I don't like each character following a separate plot line(s), the lack of interaction between characters, and how disjointed everything feels.

The mothman plot was interesting, but seems destined for a disappointing end. There have been a lot of missed opportunities to bring storylines together (Jughead went missing while Archie was looking for escaped prisoners, he could have found Jughead; Jughead hitchhiked with a random trucker, even without the trucker attacking him he could have seen clues or found Polly; Sweet Pea or Fangs could have seen Betty playing hooker and organized an intervention instead of having the weird cult plot line; I'm sure there's more). Maybe it'll be better with a binge watch, but I'm having trouble maintaining interest in the final three episodes, let alone rewatching this mess of a season.

BONUS: I was relieved that the Bughead talk did not go with my worst case scenario. Based on the possible B/A return, I was a little bit worried that Jughead would apologize for the voicemail and remember what he said, then talk about how he always knew Betty had feelings for Archie. Betty, who said she'd been "wanting this since high school," would then nod along and say she was sorry for hurting him, but acknowledge those feelings. Then Jughead would ask why they never acted on those feelings after the breakup, Betty would talk about the FWB, and Jughead would go full B/A cheerleader and tell her to give it a chance (like the Pacey and Joey chat about Dawson at Mitch's funeral in Dawson's Creek). I was dreading that possibility and I'm so glad the show didn't go there. I'm sorry if I've given anyone nightmares.

[shinsoups]

Student No. 22 —

m a s t e r l i s t

pairing: shinsou hitoshi x f!reader x class1a

genre: 1tbsp of crack, 1 tsp of fluff, a sprinkle of angst and 1 cup of chaotic randomness

synopsis: y/n was certain she would never be a Hero. She had a different goal in her mind, and that is to be a great doctor someday. With a terrible past she wants to forget, she vows she would never use her Quirk and will never let the world know what it is. Not until she finds out that the invincible quirk she thought she has can also have a certain weakness.

random updates

a/n: i know canon Shinsou is joining hero class for their second year but I'm gonna make him part of Class 1A already yay!

OO3 : Class 1A —

Other students were now staring at the weird pair walking side by side. Aizawa’s hunched figure was beside someone who wasn’t wearing the UA uniform. Rumors started to begin in hushed whispers as the pair kept walking towards their destination. Aizawa-sensei has a daughter? Midoriya freaked out as he saw your arms covered in the same material their teacher has around his neck. Or were those bandages? That can’t be true, he smiled shaking his head in disbelief. He tried to walk slower behind the pair in front of him, still he was curious enough to linger just an earshot away from you.

“I’m not here to make friends,” you chanted inside your head as you and Aizawa walked towards the classroom. “Should I just run and say I don’t want to join this class?” So many emotions flicker in your face you never get to hear anything your teacher was even saying.

Aizawa senses the awkwardness when he noticed you weren’t listening to him at all. He stops walking in front of a large door, scratching an invisbile itch behind his head. “Like I said, you don’t have to force yourself to make friends with everyone.” His tired eyes peeking from his messy hair were now looking at yours. “There’s this one kid who also just got transferred before the semester ended last month. Class 1-A may seem a bunch of rowdy kids but I assure you no one will harm you.”

Did I just say that one out loud? You thought to yourself. Or did he just read your mind? You can’t blame him, but his voice just lulls you into something familiar yet foreign. In a sense, he scares you because you can’t feel any danger whenever he is around. He sighed seeing the familiar green-haired child hiding behind, “And Midoriya I’ll mark you as late so whatever you were thinking—” Aizawa trailed off as you look behind he was addressing, a blushing mess stood behind you.

Midoriya’s face flushed red as he begins to stutter. “I- Sensei the other students were—“ he was mumbling incoherent words when he notices you staring at him. “I’m Midoriya Izuku.” He held his hand offering a handshake.

Grasping the situation and the weird sentence Aizawa-sensei left hanging you corrected yourself even before he gets the wrong idea. “I- I am not his daughter.” You shook his hand, a small blush forming at your cheeks when he squeezed your hand nervously at the mention of the word ‘daughter’. “I’m y/n.”

Aizawa tried to hide his smile as his predictions were coming tangible. I knew Midoriya would be the first one to offer friendship but I didn’t think this will come sooner than expected, he thought to himself as he slid the door open.

As soon as Aizawa stepped inside the room, the noise settles down. Midoriya rushed inside and went to his seat leaving you behind hovering just before the entrance. You can already feel the heavy stares as you invited yourself inside and closed the door even before Aizawa called you. Your hand hovers on the straps of your bag, biting your lip nervously sensing the overflowing power around you. Your body was tingling, automatically assessing everyone inside the room even though there were no signs of real threat. Aizawa’s eyes squinted, noticing your discomfort and somehow even proving the principal’s quirk theory about you. He recalls how Nezu asked him to talk to one of his students and give authority to use his quirk against her. Now all he has to do is see it with his own eyes.

Shinsou’s dark purple eyes settled on your figure thinking about the favor Aizawa asked him to do. He didn’t give him enough explanation other than provoke the new student and somehow make her use her quirk in class. Is this how they do it in the Hero Class? He asks himself, he sighs as he saw who he’ll be facing with.

“As you may recall back in the dorms, I already told everyone that a new student will be joining you this semester. I expect everyone to treat her equally.” Aizawa looked at you and gestures you to come in front with him.

You fiddled your hands as you walk beside him. “My name is ------ and I’m pretty sure I told Aizawa-sensei and All-Might sensei that I’m only visiting the class and will not join you.” You looked over the raven-haired teacher and continued looking at the sea of confused faces in front of you, “I know everyone here will be an excellent hero someday. But it will be really impossible to treat someone like me as your equal. Cause I am not. But I hope I won’t be a hindrance to everyone during my stay here.” You bowed your head as you finished your introduction. But somehow Bakugou hears a threat about your little speech, intimidated about the phrasing or maybe he was just reading between the lines.

“Ehh? What makes you think we’re not equal? Hey are you stronger than me?” Bakugo growls, thinking that maybe you really are stronger for the school to admit you even after a semester has already passed.

“Kacchan!!” Midoriya whispers hoarsely. “I don’t think that’s what she meant.”

You scrambled on the words you were supposed to say to the blonde one when another one spoke.

“Hey new girl,” Shinsou started. Everyone shifted their gazes on the purple haired boy. He was never one to initiate conversations, let alone talk to someone he barely knew so everyone was curious what he was up to.

“I just introduced myself,” you said dryly staring now at him.

“Would you mind telling us,” Shinsou shrugged, his body leaning forward, hands tapping on the wooden desk thinking whether he should use his quirk or not. He looked at Aizawa and saw him nod a little signaling him that he’s allowed to do what he was asked for. “I mean would you like to show us why you were admitted so easily in the Hero Course?”

“Shinsou-kun I think that was just...” voices soon filled the room when the guy named Shinsou challenged you out of nowhere.

“Not gonna lie, I really worked hard to be able to sit here in this classroom. I wasn’t given a privilege like yours. While here you come waltzing inside and telling us that we shouldn’t treat you an equal.” His eyebrows quirk up, demanding you to prove yourself. To be honest he doesn’t have any hard feelings against you but for the others inside the room they know that it was half meant true. They saw how hard he fought to be able to sit where he is now.

You stared back at him in confusion. Why was he mad at you? Did they all feel like this? Was it really your privelege to just waltz inside this room when you don’t even have any desire to become a Hero? The quirk you tried so hard to keep a secret even from your own grandparents, a quirk that you resented and hated because if people found out about it they will only get disheartened if given a chance to fight you. This is a mistake, you internally screamed at yourself, I shouldn’t have bothered accepting the offer.

“I didn’t mean it tha—“

Bingo

Shinsou leaned back against the chair and crossed his arms in front of him. Show everyone what you’re capable of. He pondered on what’s the easiest way, a small smile playing on the corners of his lips.

Aizawa watched from the sidelines ready to intervene if what Nezu told him was correct. A cancelling quirk just like his? Or a mutation of multiple quirks? They needed to know and the easiest to test their theory was to let Shinsou take control over you and show it to them first hand. It was just a theory but the principal insisted that it was different from Aizawa’s own quirk. It’s something more of a defense mechanism, a mutation of quirk that possibly developed during your childhood after years of trauma. Was that possible? Probably— because Nezu can symphatize on his new student.

You felt your body tensed. Different from whenever you sense danger around you. You tried to move your foot but you were rooted from where you stand. Alarm bells were now ringing inside your head signaling your body that you’re in danger. No way. You felt panic bubbled inside your stomach but a sense of adrenaline and excitement soon sprouted when you realized someone’s quirk can pass from yours. You felt challenged. Until you feel your body move on its own accord.

You can attack the blonde guy who asked you if you were stronger than him.

The moment his command has left his mind he soon regret it. Why would he even ask that? Bakugou was considered as one of the strongest in their year and his talent is already on par with Pro-Heroes. Shinsou was about to tell you to stop until he saw Aizawa-sensei signaling him not to intervene.

Throwing your bag on the floor, your body moved towards the blonde guy with vermillion eyes. Bakugou’s body shifted on defense mode when he saw how fast you came charging towards him. Your right leg hit Bakugou’s arms, taking a step back he shrugged his shoulders up and took the blow once again and started to shift into attack mode.  You were just standing in front seconds ago, the speed you show somehow left him stunned. This time he was able to dodge the incoming fist aimed at his jaw. Your moves were calculated yet precise. Each blow from your legs surely hit him and the way you dodge on his attacks was now starting to irritate him.

Stealth? Aizawa’s eyes widen as he saw you flinging yourself towards Bakugou, throwing your arms ready to pounce on the kid. Asui called out to their teacher but to no avail they didn’t get any response. “Let them be,” he soon spoke, looking blankly at everyone. “Move the chairs so they won’t get damaged.” He instructed.

Everyone started to back out when Bakugou aimed his hands towards you. Your legs were moving on its own, fists trying to aim at his vulnerable parts. A small smirk now playing on his mouth “Hey sensei,” he flinched when your right fist successfully hit his jaw, the left one aiming to add counter but he held your arm just in time before you can land another blow.

“I can go all out right?” Bakugou quickly looked at their teacher, feeling the sting on his right cheek. “She attacked me first.” Trying to dodge his way he decided to use his own quirk against you. Fire started to spark on his hands ready to show you that he is the strongest inside the room.

Shinsou was in awe on how graceful you move, dodging every punch and kick Bakugou was trying to aim at your small figure. The class knows that Bakugou was trying to limit the damage he was causing inside the room, only aiming the fire all out on you. Your body automatically turned and took a half step back dodging the fire explosion he released. You were so sure there was a blank look on your face but the excitement you felt was not because you were fighting someone strong but because someone actually had the audacity to control you without your body sensing the danger. Growing tired of the repetitive attacks your “enemy” was aiming at you, you decided to give up already. Bakugou pinned your body down and released another close range fire explosion at you. There’s no use in keeping it a secret now, huh you thought to yourself as you welcomed the fire coming at you. You turned your head towards your teacher, this is what you wanted from the start, no words were needed as everyone stood still processing what they just saw. Slapping your hand on your left cheek hard enough to make everyone flinched at the sound, you felt release from an unknown command taking over yourself.

Bakugou kept firing at you but the explosions turn into nothingness even before it reaches your skin. As if a thin layer of shield was covering you, all his attacks suddenly felt useless. Aizawa stood in awe, “She could defeat all of us here if she wanted to.” He recalls the words principal Nezu told him and the other teachers.

“That’s enough,” Aizawa takes a deep breath, eyes glowing red as he looked at Bakugou erasing his quirk. Kaminari and Kirishima tried to take a stunned Bakugou off of you, a dumb and confused look lingers on his face. But he refused to do so, not until a familiar scarf wrapped around his body and pulled him off away from you.

You lied there on the floor for a minute after Bakugou let your collared shirt go floating away all wrapped up. Covering your face with one bandaged arm, “I wanna know who did that.” You sighed, so much for a secret, you just revealed your quirk to the class in just one go.

You stood up slowly waiting for someone to respond to your question yet no one dared to answer. The next thing you know your “classmates” were now hovering around you asking you what just happened and how you did it, congratulating you that you were the first one to beat their top 1 in class.

Midoriya seemed to analyze what happened mumbling to himself as he hovers beside you. Curiosity struck Todoroki as he saw Bakugou’s attack was futile against you so he tried using his ice quirk when you started taking everyone’s handshake while introducing themselves.

“Todoroki Shouto,” he said plainly as ice started spreading on his right arm but soon stopped as it meets your hand.

“Did you just—“

“What is your quirk?” Todoroki politely asked interupting you. But before he could get an answer, Aizawa cleared his throat instructing everyone to get back to their own seats. He was still struck with the idea of you possessing Stealth as a Quirk but to see it with his own eyes confirmed Nezu’s theory. She can’t cancel it, she’s just putting a thin barrier against every quirk turning every attacks null and void, he thought to himself. But how come Shinsou’s brainwashing can control her? He pondered as he watches his student arranged their desks properly.

Standing on the little podium in front, “Now that all the commotion has stopped. We’re heading to training Ground Beta. You can go all out there,” Aizawa glances back at Bakugou then to you.

You sat awkwardly at the back avoiding your teacher’s gaze, everyone was acting as if nothing had happened at all. Whispering to the purple haired guy named Shinsou beside you, “Uhmm so what is Ground Beta?” you asked already feeling tired.

His purple eyes saw how troubled and confused you look unaware of what Aizawa-sensei was talking about. Shinsou opened and closed his mouth once or twice, trying to find the courage to tell you that he was the one that controlled you right after your introduction, but the sight of your furrowed brows told him other things. You felt your cheeks getting hotter every second as he kept his gaze on you, eyes not wavering even when you flicked his forehead.

“Has anyone ever told you that staring is really rude?” you muse off, cheeks now powdered with pink.

Clearing his throat, he scratches an itch behind his ear and tightens his lips, trying not to smile he awkwardly reply. “R-right. So— Ground Beta...”

“Yes?” you leaned close so you can hear his whisper.

Shinsou leaned in closer, feeling his breath fanning on your ears, “That’s a place where the Hero Class are training. Everyone are paired or grouped to fight one another. It’s a part of the hero course.”

“What?” you pushed your chair as you stood up in disbelief. You whipped your head towards your teacher only to sank back down to your seat.

Aizawa’s red eyes stared at you, his hair flaring upwards in warning when you interrupted him talking. “You’re included in this l/n. Everyone go get your costumes ready. I’ll wait on the training ground. You have 10 minutes to prepare.” With that said, Aizawa exited the doors, leaving you confused and somewhat lost inside the rooms of Class 1A.

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[thosestarsthatshine]

Dogfight

Atsumu x Reader

The rules were simple: find a date and win some money. Who knew that one small encounter could change Atsumu’s life forever.

masterlist

Chapter Two - Come to a Party

It’s been hours, and Atsumu’s been having the worst luck. He’s been all around Tokyo - to the library, the park, the karaoke bars -  and yet despite it all he still hasn’t found a date. It feels like the universe is conspiring against him. Every girl that he’s approached as either seen right through his tactics, or just has flat out ignored him. He was beginning to grow desperate. Time was running down and he needed to find someone to bring. The competitive side in him was growing irritated at admitting any sort of defeat. 

Also the blow to his ego from all the rejection isn’t helping either.

He’s not backing down though. Atsumu spies a small cafe, aptly named Rose’s, up ahead and decides to take a quick break before continuing to search. 

Stepping through the door, Atsumu notices that although it’s only 8, the cafe is not that busy. The tiny cafe doesn’t look like it could fit a ton of people, and the people who are there are few and far between. He heads up to the counter and is greeted by the sight of woman, who looks to be about middle age, behind the counter.  She greets him as he approaches, “What can I get you?” 

Atsumu looks at her name tag, it says Rose - she must be the owner, and attempts to give her his best flirtatious smile, “I’ll take your finest cup of coffee please.”

Rose seems unamused as she answers, “Coming right up.” Atsumu, once again defeated pays and finds a seat at a table in the corner. 

As he sits, he looks around the small cafe, he spots a waitress clumsily coming out from behind the counter. She makes small talk with Rose, who points to his table as she hands the waitress his cup of coffee. He hadn’t known that she was back there to begin with, or that she was in the cafe at all. She seems shy, a bit awkward, not super comfortable in her own skin, and to be honest she’s very plain. Not really Atsumu’s type but she seems like the perfect person to take to the dogfight. She makes her way over to his table with his coffee, and Atsumu sees this as his last ditch effort to try and find someone, anyone to take. Atsumu knows that he has to try really hard to get her to find him appealing enough to agree to come with him. 

She arrives at the table to set down his coffee, avoiding his gaze completely, quietly speaking, “Here’s the coffee you ordered.”

“Thanks. Say, I’m feeling kind of hungry. Anything that ya’d recommend from the menu.” Atsumu gives her a genuine smile as he holds the menu he found on the table, in his hands. It seems that no customer in this cafe must pay her any real attention because she seems shocked that he’s speaking to her. 

She fumbles with her fingers as she nervously speaks up, “Um, well I personally think that our muffins are the best, but I might be a bit biased since I helped make them this morning.” 

Atsumu sees this as an in, “So you’re a baker huh, do you make all of the pastries here?”

She quickly nods

“What’s your favorite ones to make?”

Atsumu can see that she still seems wary of him yet somehow beginning to open up to him, “I prefer chocolate chip, they’re just classic.” 

“I’m a bit of a banana nut muffin man myself, but I’ll have to take your word for it. Anything else ya’d recommend?”

Before she can respond, Rose comes over to the table. “Hate to interrupt but Y/N I need some help. Gotta get ready for the morning.” 

Y/N faces Rose and apologizes “Sorry mama” then turns to Atsumu, “Sorry, I - I guess I gotta get back to work.” Y/N moves away from the table and back over to the counter. Before Atsumu can say anything Rose speaks to him as if sensing his intentions with her daughter aren’t all that wholesome, “Better finish that cup, we’re closing soon.”  She leaves through a door in the back of the cafe that leads to a set of stairs, there is a sign over the door that says “EMPLOYEES ONLY”. Atsumu waits a bit before heading to the counter to speak with Y/N again. 

“Hey, I apologize if I got ya in trouble. It was never my intention.” Atsumu tries to sound as sincere as possible. 

Y/N gives him a shy smile, “It’s okay, Mama just gets a tad bit grumpier at closing time.” 

Atsumu gives a small laugh, “I get it, my Ma’s the same way when it’s getting late and my twin brother and I are still outside practicing our volleyball plays.”

Y/N seems curious, “You have a twin brother, I’ve always wanted a sibling. I bet it’s fun getting to play volleyball with him?”

“It can be, he’s a bit of a scrub sometimes.” He mumbles, to which Y/N laughs, a genuine one full of innocence. He continues, “We’re pretty good actually. Made it to Nationals the past three years.” Atsumu beams with pride as he says that. 

“Hey, I just realized something, I never introduced myself. The name’s Atsumu Miya.” He sticks his hand out as if he wants her to shake it, she does, letting out a small giggle. “I’m Y/N L/N.” Their hands shake for a few moments as they smile at each other. Atsumu decides that now is as good a time as any to try and get her to come, so he pretends to look at the clock behind Y/N. “Well, I better get going, gotta head to a party.”

“A party?”

“Yeah some friends of mine are throwing a little get together.” Atsumu suddenly pretends that he’s had this brilliant idea, “How’d ya like to come with me?”

Y/N is a bit shocked, she’s only just met Atsumu. She won’t deny that she thinks that he’s cute, but it seems a bit weird to go to a party with a man she’s just met.  “I would love to go but - I’m still on the clock and I have a lot of work to finish up.” 

“It’s okay Y/N ya don’t have to lie to me. I get that I’m an athlete and that sometimes we don’t have the best reps. People think we’re rude jerks. If you don’t wanna go ya can just say it, I understand.” 

“No, it’s not that - I don’t think you’re - its just - I mean, I just met you.” 

Atsumu begins to think on his feet. “Well, you know my name, you know that I have a twin brother, that I play volleyball. I’m an open book anything ya want to know, I’ll tell ya.”

Hearing this seems to make Y/N shy, Atsumu runs with this. “I’m not playing any games, I promise. Sure, I thought ya were pretty when I first saw ya, but I just want ya to get to know ya. I feel this connection between us, even if we did just meet. Kinda rare don’t ya think?”

Y/N seems skeptical. Atsumu continues though, “Come to this party with me, I promise to treat ya right. We can take this opportunity to get to know each other. Have some fun. I know this might sound weird but I just think that you seem real special. I promise if ya come there’ll be no funny business.” He makes an “X“ over his heart, signifying a promise and gives her his best smile.

“I dunno, Atsumu, you seem nice but like I said we just met, plus I have a ton of work to do to help close up.” 

“Why don’t I tell ya a little bit more about myself and you can decide if ya want to come or not. I was born in the Hyogo prefecture. I’ve played volleyball all my life. I’m actually here in Tokyo for a recruitment camp in the hopes I can get scouted to a team.”

“Wow, that must be exciting”

“It is, all my life I’ve wanted to play volleyball. I knew I was destined for it. It’s in my blood, I know it is. It’s the only real true calling I’ve ever had.”

Y/N seems touched by his words, gives a small smile, “I bet you’re really good then, to have made it to a recruitment camp.”

Atsumu smiles at her, a genuine one, “Thanks.”

Y/N is torn, she wants to go with Atsumu and get to know him, but she’s never done anything like this before. She feels a bit flustered. “Atsumu, I’d really like to go with you, but I gotta finish cleaning up.” She begins to resume cleaning up. 

Atsumu perks up at this, “What if I help ya out?” He’s getting desperate he can sense the hesitation in Y/N, it’s now or never at this point.”

“I don’t know that doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

Y/N’s words fall on silent ears as Atsumu begins to “help” clean up, although who knows if help is the right word for it. What little he achieves in helping clean up, he makes up for in charming Y/N. As they clean up together, they begin to talk more and get to know each other. Atsumu still asking her if she would like to come with, but Y/N is still hesitant. 

They finish up in record time, as Y/N sets a chair up on a table, but as she goes to turn around she trips over a box that Atsumu must have left on the floor in his “attempts” to help her clean. 

Before she can hit the ground, Atsumu races over to her and catches her in his arms. Mere inches apart, close enough to kiss, there is apparent electricity flowing between them. Maybe Atsumu was right earlier about a rare connection.  A moment passes between them only for them to immediately separate as they were abruptly interrupted by the arrival of Rose. He shakes away the thought from a moment ago. 

“Y/N, honey, you need to change the sign on the door, we’re closed.” She says the last part more to Atsumu than Y/N.  As quickly as she arrived, Rose turns back. 

Atsumu looks at the clock once again and sees that he only has 30 minutes before the party is supposed to start. He realizes that maybe he’ll just have to accept defeat. “Well I guess I gotta head out. I’m glad we met Y/N, you’re a sweet girl. Maybe we’ll meet again one day. Still, it’s a shame. I thought that maybe if ya came with me, well who knows. Maybe we coulda -“ He pauses for a moment, lingering on a thought hoping she’ll say she’s changed her mind. When he senses that she won’t he, he gives up, “Anyway, have a good night.” 

Atsumu goes and turns for the door. Y/N watches him go, she’s torn as she considers going. It feels like time moves slowly as Atsumu gets closer and closer to the door. He has his hand on the handle as Y/N shouts at him, causing him to stop. “Atsumu, wait. I’ve changed my mind. I’m gonna go with ya, just let me run upstairs to my apartment to change!”

Atsumu smiles, feeling victorious, “Okay!”

“Okay!” Y/N turns towards the stairs to her apartment then stops. “Atsumu, I’ve never - what kind of party is it?”

“A party, party.”

“Should I dress up?”

Thinking this is too good to be true Atsumu responds, “Yeah, you should dress up, go all out if ya want!”

“Okay” Y/N’s excited as she runs up the stairs towards her apartment, tripping on the first step, then pauses looking at Atsumu hoping he didn’t catch that. 

Atsumu just pretends he didn’t see, as Y/N continues run upstairs. Excited about going to the party with Atsumu. 

As soon as Y/N is out of sight. Atsumu decides to wait outside, laughing at his incredible luck. Relief washes over him. “I can’t believe I did it! I’m totally gonna win now!” Now all he needs to do is wait for Y/N to come down. 

[cammmerrroniii]

Fever Dream

The night air is crisp and cool as usual at the Jorhouse. The mighty Nein have recently returned from Eissel Cross and were recovering from the events that had unfolded there.

Caduceus, in an attempt to comfort everyone but mostly himself, immediately busied himself in the kitchen making some of his special tea. The Willinghams, he thought to himself, they should make the perfect brew to settle these rascals. He looked back through the door leading into the foyer and saw Jester, so excited to see Essik tomorrow, bouncing around the room adding her own touches to the house to make it feel more homey since they’d be here a while.

Caleb sat in the corner pouring over a book, as usual, but every now and then you could see his eyes just glazing over the top of his worn and slightly yellowed pages to watch this little blue teifling work her “magic”. Veth was in her room, preparing little presents for Yeza, apparently their anniversary was coming up soon and of course Fjord was up there teasing her as he does.

Meanwhile, Yasha was sitting cross-legged on the second story balcony looking over the street, processing everything that had happened. The things that had occurred that she never thought possible. Seeing that coat had brought back so many memories; memories that she’d tried so desperately to bury with the others. She knew blaming herself never helped anything but she couldn’t help it. And then there was Beau. Oh Beau. Beau, Beau. What have you done to me, she thought while watching the neighbor’s peeking out their windows at their house for the fifth time.

She let out a sigh and thought about why she had acted the way she did around Beauregard. She felt that itch begin to rise once more inside of her. It always started this way, her toes would tingle and make her legs ache to run. The sensation would travel through her muscles like a ripple, until she found herself clenching and unclenching her fists and looking around for an exit. But Beau, with her captivating blue eyes and crooked smile, had complicated things.

Unbeknownst to Yasha, Beau was up on the roof staring down at the Aasimar woman. She knew she needed to talk to her about the poem, but she also knew that she sucks with feelings. She’d been watching her from afar for a while now, and, thinking about it, she thought about how stalkerish she probably seems. She took a deep inhale and deftly got to her feet without making a sound.

“Hey Yasha! I was wondering where you were hiding” she called out acting like she had just stumbled upon her.

“Oh!” Yasha jumped slightly in surprise, “Hallo, Beau. I’m sorry. I thought I had told everyone I’d be up here. Were you looking for me?” She had said where she would be. They all heard her.

“Yeah! I mean, no, well I mean not for like a long time or anything I mean, don’t worry about it, aha!” Gods why is she so weird all the time. Beau parkoured down to the balcony and leaned awkwardly against the rails for a second. “So, Yash....” Fuck, why didn’t she think of something to say first?!

Yasha looked up at Beauregard through her lashes expectantly. “What is it, Beau?”

Beau swallowed hard. “Um, ah. So that, ah, poem.. I uh gave it a read”, quite a few times, though she neglected to mention that part. A surprised look that was a mix of nervousness and horror spread across Yasha’s face. With everything going on, she had forgotten about that silly little poem.

“Oh, uh, that’s.. good. Yeah I, um, Jester gave me the idea and um she thought... I mean, uh, I-I thought that you know I,” she chewed on her words for a second. “I have been thinking about you- I mean, thinking about telling you how I feel, that is. So.. what did you think?” She bit her last few words off sharply and held her breath.

Beau knew that something had changed in Yasha since she had gotten her wings back. She saw it more and more as the barbarian woman continued to slowly open herself up to the group. She looked her over for a second and did, in fact, notice just the faintest bit of white at her roots and her skin held a light shine to it. She was literally glowing, and radiating beauty. Beau shook herself for a moment and realized she had been staring at Yasha awkwardly for a few seconds while she was clearly anxiously awaiting her reply.

“Um,” she cleared her throat and sat down beside Yasha, their knees brushing against each other as she did so; the slight intake of breath Yasha did at the contact did not go unnoticed. “I think that you definitely have a way with words that is unique. And I wanted to tell you that, if I understood your poem correctly, I’ve felt the same way since the first day I saw you.” She told her honestly and unabashedly, though her heart was hammering into her ribcage.

Yasha stared back at Beau, looking a bit stunned. They sat in silence for a few moments, though it wasn’t as awkward now that they’ve both discussed somethings out loud.

“Beauregard,” Yasha started slowly. “I care very deeply for you. And I don’t want you to end up hurt again because of me.” Beau looked like she was going to say something but Yasha cut her off. “I’ve been going through big changes recently and accepting everything has been a big part of that. And I forgive myself. For Zuala, and Molly, and you most of all. I-I need to go for a little while, not very long, I promised you I wouldn’t leave and I’m going to keep that promise but I just need to go and commune with the Storm Lord. He sent me these visions in my dreams and I know I must go there in order to complete my change and prove myself worthy. I didn’t want to tell anyone, old habits die hard I guess. But, I cannot hide things from you. Not anymore.” She opened her eyes that she wasn’t aware she had closed and looked back over to Beau. She was thinking. Yasha could tell because of the way the tip of her tongue just slightly glazed over the corner of her mouth repeatedly.

She’s going to feel betrayed, that I’ve lied to her. She’ll never forgive me, Yasha let herself think.

“I understand,” Beau finally said. Yasha looked at her in surprise. Of course she understood. As blind as Yasha is, even she could tell that underneath all of that bravado - and abs, oh gods so many abs - Beauregard understood Yasha on a far deeper level than anyone ever had. Beau connected eyes with Yasha and grinned. “But I’ll be expecting a kiss when you come back to me.” Yasha heart did a back flip just thinking about kissing Beau. She couldn’t form words as her brain got all goopy, so she simply nodded.

They both got to their feet slowly and stood facing one another. Yasha leaned down and gently laid her lips onto Beaus forehead. Beau was grinning like an idiot when Yasha pulled back.

“One for now, and the other when I come back. I promise.”

“Good luck.”

And with that, Yasha hopped the railing and landed perfectly on her feet. She began walking to her destination, already planning the kiss. She looked back one last time just in time to see Beau fist pump the air and do a little happy shimmy before she saw Yasha looking and froze, sheepishly waving goodbye to her before ducking into the house.

—————-

It was late, Beau would guess around 3AM. The witching hour, she thought to herself. Yasha had left some two or three weeks ago and Beau hadn’t been able to sleep very well after about the first week of her absence. They were still at the Jorhouse and everyone was fast asleep.

She quietly crawled out of bed and slid out onto the balcony, looking out in the direction Yasha had left.

The group did not take the news of her leaving well at first, mainly because they were concerned for Yasha’s safety. But, they all understood and came to the resounding conclusion that she could take care of herself.

“Who in their right mind would mess with Yasha,” Fjord had said. “She could bench press all of us with one arm if she wanted to.” Beau let some dirty thoughts of Yasha bench pressing her seep into her gutter of a mind and Fjord had scoffed at her while Jester wiggled her eyebrows and cackled at Beau’s expression.

“Ja, our Aasimar friend will be fine. She has a new belt that I’m sure she’s itching to add some notches to.” Caleb had remarked.

“And I can send her a message!!” Jester squealed, about to do just that. Beau had grasped her blue friend gently and advised against it.

“Yasha just needs some time alone, I think. Just her and the Storm Lord. She’ll be back soon.” Beau gave a small smile to Jester, who grinned knowingly back and gave her a small nod in understanding.

Looking out over the cool and quiet streets thinking back to the day Yasha had left and the conversation they had had, Beau couldn’t help but feel like she was being watched. She heard a thud and spun around to see a tall figure standing over her. Long white hair, glowing eyes boring through her, and though covered in dirt her skin shone through dimly.

“Yasha!” Beau startled out. She didn’t have much time to process before Yasha enveloped Beau with her arms, pulling her into a warm hug. They stood like this for a few moments, just basking in each other’s embrace.

“I missed you Beau. I mean, I missed all of you. But, you know what I mean.” Her voice sounded faintly of angelic chimes and hums. They pulled apart though staying very close as Beau looked up in awe.

“You look.. different. Still very beautiful, though.” She blushed at the fact that she just straight up said Yasha was beautiful to her face which was literally only a few inches away, oh my gods. “I’ve never seen someone after a change like this before.”

Yasha just smiled softly, and gazed at Beau for a moment. “You’re beautiful, too.” And then she leaned down and captured Beauregard in a mind blowing kiss. For both of them, it felt as if this were the first time they have ever kissed another person. It was electrifying.

As Yasha was welcomed back into the Nein, her family, there was something there in the back of her head that was just overwhelmed with joy and love that she had finally found her soulmate. And as she connected eyes with Beau across the living room of the Jorhouse surrounded by their family and friends, she knew that Beau felt it too.

I know this is super long and I’m so sorry. But this is the dream I had and was told to write so I wrote it for you guys. I hope it’s okay, like I said, I’ve never written fan fiction before. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. If it’s terrible, also please feel free to DM me, I always accept criticism so long as you’re not being, like, a huge dick. :)

[wolf08]

Igniting the Fuse

A fic for @zutaraweek

Summary: Zuko can’t stand Katara’s obvious contempt towards him. Determined to fix their relationship, he asks Aang and Sokka for help, who, in turn, devise a series of team building exercises with the intention of sparking friendship between the water bender and the banished Prince. They hadn’t anticipated sparking something more. Pre- (and post-) Southern Raiders. Zutara.  

Available on A03 and FanFiction.net. 

Prompt: Loosely inspired by the prompt “Fuse” (Zutara Week 2020) Genre: Romance/Humour Words: 4293 Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or any of its characters.

A/N: Hi! Please accept my humble offering to the ATLA fandom for Zutara week. :) I’ve only ever written fics for the Naruto verse, but I just finished ATLA last month and have been fangirling about Zutara and the Gaang dynamics ever since. When I learned that Zutara week was just around the corner, I just knew I had to write something. Enjoy. :)  

***

Igniting the Fuse

Now that he was part of the group of vagabond do-gooders (who he used to think were his sworn enemies), Zuko felt a sense of contentment and purpose like he’d never felt before.

It had been an excruciating uphill battle filled with awkward encounters and blows exchanged to finally convince them that he was on their side. But he’d persevered because Zuko just knew he was destined to be here, with them, to support their quest of defeating his father.

Thankfully, in the end, they accepted him.

Well, all except for the water bender, that is.

Katara, the last water bender from the Southern Water Tribe, who had the biggest heart and kindest smile that Zuko had ever seen, utterly despised him.

She made no effort to hide this fact, with how she always sat as far away from him as possible, sneered at his (attempted) jokes, and ignored him point-blank whenever he spoke.

As the Fire Nation’s banished Prince with a prominent scar on his face marking him as such, Zuko wasn’t unfamiliar with this type of treatment. But what made it different with Katara was that (a) she was avoiding him out of pure dislike – not fear (hell, he’d faced her in combat before and knew she could hold her own against him), and (b) it was Katara.

Why did it have to be her who hated him, of all people? She was level-headed, compassionate, and strong, in other words, she was an embodiment of everything that Zuko wished he himself could be.

And, not to mention, she was rather easy on the eyes and nice to be in the presence of (though, of course, Zuko would never dare admit this out loud).

Perhaps the worst part of all of this was that Zuko knew her hatred was justified. After she’d let her guard down in the catacombs of Ba Sing Se by confiding in him and offering to use her few drops of sacred water to heal Zuko’s scar (a gesture that Zuko would never ever forget), Zuko had responded by siding with her enemy and trying to kill her.

So, yeah, Katara had every right not to trust him ever again.

But that didn’t mean Zuko wasn’t going to give it his best shot anyways. After all, he was a changed man now. He was determined to reconcile for his sins. Earning Katara’s trust wasn’t just something he wanted – it was something he needed to fulfill his personal quest for redemption.

Not that Zuko had a clue where to begin.

After numerous fruitless attempts to force an interaction with her around camp like some school boy trying to get a girl’s attention, Zuko realized he needed help fixing his relationship with Katara.

He cast a wistful glance at Katara’s tent before turning towards the sea, where Aang and Sokka were currently fishing.

Zuko sighed and ran a hand through his shaggy, black hair. Despite being a little weird, Aang and Sokka were the most helpful sources of information around, with one of them being Katara’s brother and the other being, well, the Avatar. So he slipped off his shoes, hiked up his pants, and waded out to meet them.

Their fishing tactics were a rather theatrical sight, with Anng literally blowing fish out of the water with some air bending technique and Sokka spearing them as they flung into the air.

Zuko cleared his throat.

Aang, who was wearing nothing but his orange underpants, beamed at the sight of him. “Zuko! Have you come to help us fish?” he asked. “It’s not really my thing, but Sokka needed a hand.”

Zuko shook his head, folded his arms, and proceeded to explain his dilemma. The other boys listened attentively.

“Have you tried being, well, nice to her?” Sokka asked with raised eyebrows. “Katara likes everyone. It shouldn’t be that hard to get on her good side.”

Zuko rolled his eyes. “Of course I’ve tried being nice! But I guess I just suck at it.”

After a moment of deep thought, Aang’s eyes lit up. “I’ve got it!” he said, clapping his hands together. “We’ll do team building exercises to foster trust. When Katara sees that you can trust each other, I’m sure she’ll like you more.”

But Zuko wasn’t entirely convinced. “This isn’t Air Temple preschool, you know,” he grumbled.

“No, no, I think Aang’s onto something here,” Sokka said with a smirk. “No offense dude, but your social skills suck. Structured ice-breakers are exactly what you need.”

“What? My social skills don’t suck!” Zuko shot back, but Sokka just shook his head, still smirking.

Then, in a deep, mocking tone, Sokka said, “Hello! Zuko here. I sent an assassin after you. Can we be friends?”

Aang covered his mouth to stifle a laugh.

Zuko’s eyebrow twitched, his face burning. “Okay, fine. Let’s try your stupid team building then.”

“Great!” said Aang. “Let’s start after lunch. We’ll handle everything Zuko, so don’t you worry about a thing.”

***

In an effort to gain Katara’s support for their day of team building, Aang and Sokka selected an activity that she was sure to enjoy for the first exercise: surfing lessons – an activity that was, quite literally, right in Katara’s element.

It wasn’t a bad idea, Zuko admitted and side-eyeing Katara’s enthusiastic response to Aang’s proposal of the activity. Her blue eyes were brighter than he’d ever seen them.

Shortly after, the four of them, with the additions of Toph and Suki, were gathered around the shore, with the girls in their swimming attire (cropped shirts and shorts for all but Katara, who wore a white skirt overtop) and the boys in their shorts. Then, Sokka explained that there would be no surf boards.

“No surf boards? How’s that supposed to work for surfing?” Toph asked, voicing Zuko’s concerns.

Katara stood, a smile on her face. “I’ll bend the water to make you float – you’ve just got to balance,” she said. Toph raised her eyebrows and crinkled her nose and Zuko made every effort to refrain from making the same face.

The water bender proceeded to demonstrate. With her feet pressed to the rolling waves as if she were on a solid surface, she jumped and glided in a shower of water droplets, her arms outstretched, like she was sliding through snow or sand. In a way, it looked like she was dancing, Zuko observed, and he wondered if he could really do that too, so effortlessly.

The demonstration came to the end and Katara approached the group. “All right – who’s first?” she asked cheerily, while wringing water from her thick, brown hair.

Zuko avoided eye contact.

“I’ll go!” Suki beamed and hopping to her feet.

And said Kyoshi warrior, despite not being a water bender, made it look rather easy too, in Zuko’s opinion, his confidence boosting ever so slightly. Suki jumped and twirled on the water, laughing the entire time, clearly having a blast. Sokka wolf whistled as Suki neared the shore at the end of her turn. She met his eyes and blushed before leaping into his arms with a big smile.

Zuko watched the interaction from the corner of his eye and wondered if he could ever get Katara to feel that comfortable around him.

Yeah right.

Aang went next and he glided over the water with ease (though it was hard to tell if he was truly surfing or floating over the waves with air bending). Even Toph took a short turn, despite her obvious discomfort over being parted with solid ground.

“Zuko’s turn!” Aang exclaimed after everyone had gone, like he was afraid Katara would forget about him.

Zuko caught her gaze and was met with an icy stare. More like she doesn’t want me to have a turn.

He got to his feet and sloshed through the shallow water before turning to the group in anticipation.

With mixed emotions, he noticed that Katara was smiling at him now, her eyes bright once more. What’s with the sudden mood change? he wondered while returning the smile with much hesitation.

Then Katara raised her arms and he was off.

“Whoa!” he gasped, arms outstretched for balance, while the water carried him upwards and backwards, towards the sea. He pivoted and widened his stance for stability, while he adjusted to the strange sensation of a rapidly rolling current against his bare feet, and his total loss of control over where he was going.

Despite this, before long, Zuko began to relax, leaning into the waves’ winding motions, feeling a thrill with each dip and jump, as he climbed higher and higher and farther out to sea.

And then – SPLOOSH!

Like a rug being tugged from beneath his feet, the water supporting Zuko vanished, falling back to the sea – along with said fire bender.

He fell into the water in a rather undignified manner, limbs flailing. When he came up for air, spluttering, to his displeasure, just about everyone was doubled-over laughing.

Zuko gritted his teeth as he swam towards shore, glaring at the mischievous water bender.

“Oops,” she said with a shrug, though she didn’t look the least bit sorry.

Well that was a flop… literally, Zuko thought with a grimace as he trudged along the beach and shook water from his soaked hair.

Aang had the decency to try to look apologetic though tears were streaming down his face.

***

“The next activity better not end like that,” Zuko hissed when the boys regrouped. “How about we try something where she has to trust me this time? Because clearly the other way around doesn’t work.”

“Hm. Maybe you can teach everyone something. What are you good at Zuko?” Sokka asked.

“Fire bending.”

“Well, you can’t exactly teach everyone fire bending.”

“Oh, I know!” Aang piped up. “Zuko isn’t a bad dancer. He nailed the Dancing Dragon formation.”

Zuko dismissed the suggestion immediately. “That wasn’t a dance! And you’re out of your mind if you think I’d ever teach dancing lessons.”

A moment of silence passed while all three boys contemplated their next move.

“It’s probably best if I don’t hire another assassin and like… save her from it. Right?”

“Yes, Zuko. Best we table that idea.”

***

Zuko felt a little more confident about the second activity that Aang and Sokka planned for the group.

“We’re going rock climbing!” Aang exclaimed and gesturing to the ropes and makeshift pulleys he and Sokka had fastened to the cliff side earlier. For the most part, in Zuko’s opinion, this activity far exceeded the last because he and Katara would be on relatively even footing as far as their bending was concerned.

“Everybody partner up!” Sokka instructed. “I call working with Suki!”

“And I call Toph!” Aang shouted, which garnered suspicious looks from both Toph and Katara. “I thought we could work on our teamwork?” he added to the earth bender sheepishly.

Toph smirked. “Whatever you say, Twinkletoes. Gosh, I’m popular, huh?”

Through narrowed eyes, Katara directed her attention to the person she was evidently stuck with.  

Zuko tried his hardest to seem friendly, though he was suddenly uncharacteristically nervous. “You can go first, if you want,” he offered.

Katara lifted an eyebrow. After a moment, she said, “All right then,” and turned towards the cliff, her braided hair flipping over her shoulder as she did.

The rock climbing ensued, with Toph practically flying up the wall while she bended parts of the cliff side to jut out like stairs. Momo was doing quite well himself from a little further down, not even holding onto the rope, though Appa dutifully spotted him anyways.

Despite not having any distinct advantages, Suki flourished in this activity too, scaling the wall like a ninja. “Atta girl, Suki!” Sokka cheered on from below. She responded with a glowing smile at her rock climbing partner.

Zuko turned his attention to his own rock climbing partner, who was faring well, though not quite as well as the other climbers. Her movements were a little clumsy and she clung to the rope and handholds like her life depended on it. After all, with each step she climbed, the water bender ventured farther away from the comfort of the sea behind them.

There was no way Zuko would let her fall though, considering the death grip he had on her rope. He needed to prove he was the most trustworthy rock climbing partner she could ever have.  

Taking a page out of Sokka’s book, Zuko decided to egg his partner on. “You’re doing great!” he called.

Unfortunately, his comment prompted an icy glare. “Are you mocking me?” Katara snapped, as she freed her blue sleeve from a protruding twig that had snagged it.

“No...,” Zuko snarled through gritted teeth.

This is impossible! I can’t even compliment Katara without her getting mad!

She proceeded to climb in silence without sparing him a glance, and Zuko couldn’t think of what to say, so he just sighed and frowned in her general direction.

How on earth was this activity supposed to bring them closer together now?

She’s probably clinging to the rope for dear life because she doesn’t trust me to stop her from falling, Zuko thought with a scowl.

But then he was struck with a brilliant (and morally questionable) idea.

What if Katara’s rope were severed… for some reason… and Zuko caught her?

Now, Zuko was no expert, but saving someone from falling seemed like the ultimate gesture of trust if you asked him.

Surely Aang and Sokka would disprove if Zuko deliberately severed Katara’s rope, but she was maybe only twenty feet up – so surely, even if she did fall, she’d survive.

Before Zuko had properly thought through his plan, he’d sent a barely discernible fireball – no more than a small collection of sparks – up the cliff side. It went undetected by the others, who were focused on their rock climbing tasks.

With the softest of hisses, the fire made contact with the rope about ten feet above Katara’s head. The rope began to fray immediately but no one seemed to notice. Until –

“Whoa!” Katara exclaimed as the rope started to give. She clawed for the nearest handhold and gripped it firmly while looking around with wide eyes.

Now, Zuko thought, dropping the rope and racing towards the cliff.

By now the others were catching on to Katara’s predicament.

“Oh no, careful Katara!” called Aang.

“Hold on!” cried Suki.

“Just drop!” Zuko shouted from below, his arms outstretched. “Don’t worry – I’ll catch you!”

Katara peered down at him, like she was mentally calculating the risk of doing what he asked. When she met his eye, Zuko felt a swell of anticipation for a reason he couldn’t quite place.

Then, something determined entered Katara’s eyes and she directed her gaze beyond him, towards the sea.

The rope snapped and Katara began to fall.

Zuko braced himself for the impact, his arms at the ready.

I won’t let you down!

And then – WHOOSH!

Zuko faced an impact but it wasn’t the one he was expecting.

An aggressive current of water slammed straight into Zuko’s legs, knocking him off his feet.

“What?” he gasped as he lost his footing, toppled sideways, and fell to his back. Spluttering, he watched in disbelief as Katara bended a neat stream of water through the air, stepped into it, and directed it towards the ground to safety. She landed beside Zuko with a splash – soaking him from head to toe.

Katara straightened up and regained her composure, brushing off the front of her blue dress, as the water drifted back out to sea.

She turned to Zuko like she was just noticing him for the first time. “Oh!” she said while extending her hand. “You okay down there?” she asked, eyebrows raised and the slightest mischievous glint in her eye.

Zuko accepted her offer to help him up, but didn’t have it in him to celebrate the kind gesture – he was far too embarrassed and couldn’t meet her eye.

As soon as he was on his feet, he retreated and stomped away. “I’m fine,” he growled while shaking water out of his hair for the second time that day.

***

“The next team building exercise will be different. We’ll use our words this time,” Aang decided during a brief rendezvous with Sokka and Zuko.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Zuko asked, eyebrow raised.

“You’ll see – I’ve got a plan. Just make sure you’re sitting beside Katara when we gather round the campfire after dinner. Trust me.” He patted Zuko’s shoulder and flashed him what he probably thought was a reassuring smile, but given their track record with team building exercises thus far, Zuko didn’t feel so confident.

“Fine,” he said anyways because he didn’t have anything to lose.

***

True to his word, after the sun had set, bellies were full, and Aang had summoned everyone to the campfire, Zuko claimed the spot beside Katara, even though he had to wrestle Toph in the process of squeezing in between them.

Katara gave Zuko a weird look and motioned to get up.

He grabbed her sleeve. “Wait – stay here,” he said before he could think better of it (and immediately regretting the motion).

She startled and opened her mouth to respond, but thankfully, Aang chose that moment to command everyone’s attention and start the activity. Zuko released a breath.

It turned out the activity was rather simple. Each person was required to share a compliment about the person on their right – and once everyone had a turn, they were to repeat the exercise in the other direction.

Zuko was skeptical about the cheesy activity having any effect on his relationship with Katara but he figured he might as well try.

He frowned and glanced at Katara, who was on his right, noticing the firelight dancing in her blue eyes. He would have to share a compliment with her first.

I’ve got one shot so I need to think of something good, Zuko mused while absently bending the flames from the campfire into little loops.

His first thought was to comment on her water bending, which was quite good as far as he’d seen. But would that just remind her of the times she’d used her water bending against him?

Then what could he say about her to get her to like him?

It was Sokka’s turn to pay a compliment to Suki.

He turned to the brunette Kyoshi warrior with a wide smile and an arched eyebrow, and said, smoothly, “Suki, you are as radiant as the sunset.”

Suki’s face lit up and her lips curved into a shy smile. “Oh, Sokka,” she sighed and shoving his arm lightly, in a friendly, teasing manner.

That’s it! That’s the reaction I want from Katara, Zuko thought, his chest tightening at the very prospect of it, but would complimenting her physical appearance have that effect on her? He wasn’t sure.

By the time Zuko tuned back in to the activity, Aang was telling Toph that she was the most terrifying girl he’d ever met.

Zuko watched the exchange in anticipation for surely the earth bender would take offense to the remark. But instead, she punched Aang’s arm and beamed. “Thanks, Twinkletoes!”

Would Katara want to be called terrifying? Honestly, Zuko thought she was the farthest thing from terrifying (unless she was really angry). No, Azula was terrifying. And Katara was… well, not like Azula.  

Toph turned to Zuko next, gazing up at him with a cheeky smile. “Oh, this is easy. Thanks for the entertainment in the water today. I haven’t laughed that hard in weeks!”

Zuko bristled with anger for a moment, but when he realized everyone was chuckling, and he remembered that he would much rather them find him funny than evil, he swallowed his pride and smiled. “You’re welcome,” he mumbled.

“Okay, Zuko’s turn!” Aang prompted, and then, suddenly, everyone was starting at him expectantly.

Zuko swallowed. “Okay,” he said before turning towards Katara, whose arms were folded and was watching him from the corner of her eye.

Here goes, Zuko thought. He said the first thing that popped into his head, inspired by Sokka’s earlier success.

“You’re… as beautiful as the… ocean?”

Now, Zuko wasn’t sure what reaction he was expecting, but, strangely, no one seemed to react at all. In fact, the entire group was eerily silent, their eyes trained on him, including Katara’s.

Suddenly, Zuko felt nervous. I did something wrong, didn’t I?

He turned towards Sokka for support, but only then, to Zuko’s horror, did he notice that Sokka and Suki’s hands were clasped together.

Is Suki his… girlfriend?

That hadn’t occurred to Zuko, honestly. He’d dismissed the idea because surely Suki was too good for the guy.

But maybe he was wrong. Maybe they were so close because they were dating. And maybe, by mimicking Sokka’s behaviour, Zuko had inadvertently suggested that he wanted to date Katara.  

He felt his face heat up.

I could use some of Uncle’s calming tea right about now.

Then, Katara was on her feet. She avoided eye-contact when she growled, “Really? Don’t have anything to say about my abilities, do you? I’m just some damsel in distress to you, huh?”

And then she stormed off, effectively ending the team building exercise. Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

I should have just called her terrifying.

He followed her.

***

Katara was perched on a rock near the ledge of the cliff, overlooking the sea and star-sprinkled night sky. She was hugging her knees and her shoulders were slumped.

Zuko approached with caution. “Hi,” he said when he was within earshot.

Katara glanced at him and turned away quickly.

He sighed.

Why do I suck at everything?

“Um, let me try the compliment thing again,” Zuko mumbled, not sure how much Katara was paying attention to him but going for it anyways. “My uncle taught me how to control lightning using the principles of water bending. I never really thought about water bending much, but since then, and since I saw what you can do, now I appreciate it more. It’s a… beautiful ability. And it’s strong. Like you.

“And that’s… what I’m trying to say.”

Katara glanced at him again, and to his relief, there was something kinder in her eyes.

This encouraged him to continue. “And I’m sorry for everything I did before. Please tell me how to make it up to you because I’m trying but I don’t know what I’m doing.”

After a moment, Katara’s lips curled into the smallest of smiles. She turned towards the sea. “You could reconquer Ba Sing Se in the name of the Earth King. Or bring my mother back,” she said sadly with a humourless chuckle, like what she was proposing was ridiculous. She buried her face into her knees.

Later that evening, after a brief consultation with Sokka about the story of his mother’s death, Zuko made plans for what would end up being the most effective team building exercise yet.

***

Many days later, Zuko found himself standing on a dock overlooking the ocean and a sunset painting the sky a glowing medley of pinks and oranges.

He had just returned to camp after a long trek with Katara to track down her mother’s killer, with the intention of executing revenge, but Katara ended up sparing him in the end – while still finding the closure she needed.

Zuko had learned more about Katara’s motivations and abilities on the trip, including her impressive repertoire of water bending feats.

To put it frankly, Zuko had no shortage of compliments to give her if they ever played that campfire circle game again.

And now that he understood Katara better he was filled with hope that maybe, just maybe, she didn’t hate him anymore. Though he wasn’t completely sure.

Katara was sitting at the end of the dock with her toes dipped in the water. Aang was beside her and speaking about the importance of forgiveness.

She got to her feet and faced the two of them. “Thanks Aang, but I didn’t forgive him. I’ll never forgive him.”

And then she turned towards Zuko, a smile blossoming on her face. Zuko’s breath caught in his throat.

“But you,” she said and drawing closer, “I am willing to forgive.”

Before he knew quite what was happening, Katara pulled him into a tight hug. Zuko was startled at first – hardly able to believe what was happening.

I did it! he thought in awe, thinking back to how envious he had been of Suki jumping into Sokka’s arms on the beach.

He smiled in spite of himself and returned the hug with equal enthusiasm, his heart racing.

But then, abruptly, Katara retreated. She stared at Zuko from a short distance away, looking positively radiant in the light of the sunset. A strange expression crossed her features. Embarrassment? Anxiousness? Zuko wasn’t sure. But then –

“I’m not flirting or anything, you know,” she said.

Not… what?

Katara seemed to remember that her hands were still on Zuko’s shoulders and pulled them back quickly. “I forgive you and that’s – that’s it!”

Zuko was still processing her words when she scurried past him, down the dock.

He gaped at her retreating form. “What was that about?” he asked.

Aang, who had been hanging back from the exchange, approached. One of his eyebrows was distinctly twitching. “Well, after the team building exercise around the campfire, everyone thinks that you… well, you know.”

Oh.

Zuko put his head in his hands, face burning. Something told him he was going to need a lot of help, and maybe even a new round of team building exercises, to figure out this new development in his and Katara’s relationship.

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 137: Horace Slughorn

Regulus crashed headfirst into a toilet with a knitted cover on the lid to soften the blow. He still cursed and grumbled for it while looking around and found the rest of the décor matching. A knitted stuffed cat on the sink by the soap and a box of crystalized pineapple, unopened. There was a walk in shower, as well as a pile of knitting pattern magazines for reading leisure in a wicker basket he'd knocked over along with the book, its silver spine standing out in here.

Not exactly tempted to sit on the toilet to read, he exited into the hall to find pictures on the wall that weren't alluding to an easy hint of where they were, an array of kids of various ages in frames down to the stairs. He stopped to admire them for a moment, taking a second to realize he could only know they weren't wizards because they weren't moving, but otherwise there was no clear difference. How fascinating, Mother always spoke as if there should be something. He no longer tried to convince himself he just wasn't seeing it, but maybe there just wasn't anything inherently 'different' about them either, aside from the lack of magic.

The entire house was still silent though, not a stair creaked as he went down into the dimly lit living room where a scene of total devastation met his eyes. The others were frozen in place, as if afraid to move once more and find something they shouldn't. Surely their landing hadn't caused this destruction, and his pulse quickened with worry.

The door was blasted off its hinges, a grandfather clock lay splintered at their feet, its face cracked, its pendulum lying a little farther away like a dropped sword pointing right at where Evans was still on hands and knees. A piano was on its side, its keys strewn across the floor, Peter tangled up in the wires. The wreckage of a fallen chandelier glittered nearby, Longbottom and Smith still had bits of it in their hair and clothes. Cushions lay deflated, feathers oozing from slashes in their sides, the Marauders weren't even at fault judging from the stark white faces; fragments of glass and china lay like powder over everything, and there were even chunks and gashes in the walls. Regulus immediately lit his wand and raised it high, giving illumination to something darkly red and glutinous spattered over the flowered wallpaper.

When Peter saw him at the foot of the stairs, the streetlights outside glinting off the bright cover of the book even before he'd lit his wand, and completely unharmed he couldn't help a relieved sigh. He'd done a quick count as always and hysterically wonderd for a moment if Regulus had just been blasted to smithereens from this recent slam. Instead, as he hovered on the last stair with the book in hand and a white face, he quietly whispered as calmly as he could, "start getting us out of here please?"

He swallowed convulsively, eyes still flinching to every corner looking for something none of them wanted to see again, but finally opened and read the chapter title that illuminated some horrible answer to this.

"What the hell has he been up to in this future?" Potter quietly demanded, getting slowly but steadily to his feet. Nothing attacked him like Moody's place, so the others cautiously began doing the same, but nobody wanted to answer him.

Dumbledore and Harry had no idea what they were fixing to walk into with their pleasant little evening stroll, destination this place. He even read right over the passage on Inferi like that was nothing in the face of this. They all felt beside themselves Harry was fixing to just be brutally reminded of the casualties of war even with the headmaster there for him this time.

So when the ruse was revealed, nobody could quite blame Potter shouting at the top of his lungs, "that arse!"

Regulus was so disgruntled at his near heart failure being a trick himself he gave the book an ugly toss into the mess and heavily contemplated for a moment jabbing his own wand into every available bit of furniture just to be safe. Still muttering some of Kreacher's favorite foul tongues, he went over to the piano and began helping disentangle Peter.

The others all went to scatter away in frustration from here, Alice and Longbottom heading towards the kitchen, Sirius and Lupin going up the stairs, but the other four stayed uneasily in the mess, an answer still more tempting to them even if they would have given their potions teacher a good whack upside the head for it.

Evans finally went for the book again with a look of distaste like she used to give Potter all the time. He still watched her avidly for a few moments before an odd look passed his face and he went jogging up the stairs. Regulus's stomach was still twisted into a painful knot of unease for this abrupt turn around of their environment being all a farce and glared at his retreating feet. At least Sirius was making an effort, he wouldn't be surprised though if Potter went up there and encouraged Sirius to stay the hell away from both of them at this rate.

Peter watched too in fascination as that was the first time in his life he'd ever seen Prongs purposely turn away from her when he had no good reason to. He was tempted to follow and ask, but still he hesitated.

Sirius had offered him a bridge, back there in Malfoy's room, but it wasn't just Sirius' continued attitude that was putting him off trying to coexist with the other three. Remus and James had never been so vivid in their reaction to him, but he still felt it sometimes. Like the chunks missing from the wall. The place still stood around them, but even when it was fixed as it was in the book, he doubted he could ever get the image from his mind again of how that betrayal felt he'd never want to cause. It still felt safer then to never let it go that far at all. He still wanted to try and be friends, just maybe not best friends anymore. Like Neville he supposed, he could stay on the fringes and still be on good terms with them, right?

Instead, he turned to Regulus and gave an explanation he knew was owed, now that there was no chance of a dead body being around. "Sirius is worried about you, by the way. In case you were wondering."

Regulus looked startled at the abrupt change of topic, but then smiled in a way Peter so rarely saw as he glanced at the stairs.

"He was apologizing, for back in the Forest, said he was sorry for getting in the middle when he knows he hasn't been helping before that. Well, in his own way," Peter finished with an awkward laugh. "It's pretty funny to watch someone roll their eyes when they're closed." He tacked on for levity.

Regulus just watched steadily for the rest, that didn't feel like something Sirius wouldn't say in front of him.

"Okay yeah," Peter relented, "he also tried to ask what we were talking about, but I wasn't telling him what you told me. Not unless you want me to."

"Thanks," Regulus whispered in surprise, though he didn't know why he was, he knew Peter was good at keeping secrets. It wasn't even really a secret he was so afraid of this future, but nobody had ever given him the option before to decide who knew what about him.

He was tempted to go find Sirius now and talk to him, but Peter told him quietly, "maybe give Sirius a moment? You probably don't want to bother them messing around here."

Regulus didn't quite get the odd tone but believed him. He'd waited this long, he could wait a bit longer to try talking to his brother, they had plenty of time left and he was still plenty curious to pay attention to this.

Remus shivered in distaste for the room he wandered into, despite its clear opulence. The silk sheets and plump pillows spoke of a well rested bed, but he quickly bypassed that for the window despite the fact he could feel well enough there was no full moon, but the mist clung to these very streets as well. He made nonsense patterns in the dew and thought hard about how he could get around his stupid promise to Sirius about telling James and yet knew full well all secrets had a way of coming out eventually, Slughorn hadn't been able to avoid Dumbledore for long- Then someone grabbed him from behind.

"Stop screaming you idiot, it's still me."*

"Sirius, I rarely find that less of a reason to scream," Remus tried to laugh, but Sirius didn't seem in the talkative sort of mood as his hands dropped to his waist. "Are you insane?" He giggled even as he flicked his wand and the door locked. Not permanently, obviously, but it would give them some warning. "This isn't just a bit weird?" He still half expected Slughorn to pop up any moment after that heart attack moment, he'd never look at furniture around that man the same way again.

"It's on my bucket list to do this in a teacher's office," Sirius breathed into his ear. "This is the next best thing. Not up for it?" He pressed his lips down hard on Remus's throat and moaned when he felt Remus swallow convulsively.

'Ask you idiot, now, before this goes any further,' he tried keeping a straight head even as he let himself be pulled towards the bed, shamelessly helping Sirius out of his clothes with every step. "This um, list of yours-" he was panting already, what the hell did it matter again what this meant to Sirius so long as he kept doing that with his lips? "What, um, I mean who," he'd already forgotten his question anyways as Sirius sunk onto the bed and grinned up at him.

"Relax Moony, I'll give you a break when we get back, I wouldn't peg you for wanting to do half the shit I get up to anyways," he laughed as he coaxed Remus on top of him.

He'd only been half listening as he eagerly straddled him, nipping at his neck and jaw while palming him through the last of his clothes, but froze suddenly as what he said really sunk in, and a flair of possessiveness caused his hand to constrict.

Sirius gasped eagerly, but Remus' voice came out more clipped than he'd ever believe while holding Sirius like this, "what does that mean?"

Padfoot didn't seem to hear the warning, that wild, addicting laugh inches from his lips, his legs nudging him into a rocking motion as he teased, "I'll let you see the rest later. You really want to talk about this, now?" His breath was whiney and nearly pleading by the end as Remus hadn't yet moved again.

'Yes,' he knew he should have said. "Nope," he whispered, eagerly succumbing.*

It was far enough back on his neck even Sirius had to twist in the mirror to see it right. Nobody should be able to do the same, his hair covered it well. Sirius checked himself one last time as he smoothed the long black locks back perfectly to hide the mark, deciding he only looked as rumpled as everyone else for this near constant ricochet through reality before finally exiting the bathroom, prize now in his bag. Who kept sweets in their bathroom besides this lunatic? Remus probably would if he got his own house...He licked his lips longingly as he looked back towards Slughorn's room, but knew better than to go back, telling himself he'd risked enough for now. Moony needed a break and would understand if he just didn't come back, maybe he really did just want an alone moment Sirius wasn't giving him.

He'd pretty effectively blocked out Evans's voice as Slughorn already tried reminiscing to Harry about his old position, but the only thing he cared about for this anyways was that Snape should now be gone. He certainly hoped so, it was the only plausible reason he'd allow for this old walrus being back in school, none of the Marauders particularly liked him, so it wasn't at all surprising when he found Prongs behind a secret wall and rummaging through several jars of potions unabashedly, a golden vial flashing about, a strong smell of chocolate lingering in the air as he uncorked something and then quickly put it back.

"Moony okay?" He asked without looking away, he clearly wasn't that concerned with the small yelp of fright he'd caused Remus before muffling the door. "Heard something, what were you guys doing down there? Found this shit though-"

Sirius grinned in delight as he leaned against the wall to see him holding a glass flask full of a thick, mud like substance up curiously with a look Sirius was already on board with. "Fancy a swig Prongs?"

"Yeah, actually," he grinned remorselessly as he pulled the stopper out. "Care for a wager Padfoot?"

"Whoever gets caught first owes the other a galleon," Sirius instantly agreed.

Everybody would surely enjoy the laugh once they realized what the two had pulled, and this was a harmless spot of fun! Sirius grabbed up two dusty but waiting glasses and blew on them impatiently as James pulled out the cork and let the disgusting semi-liquid squelch out a shot into each.

James pocketed the rest and casually plucked a few hairs from his head and dropped it in. It looked almost as if it was pulsing in the cup, the thick maroon concoction was quivering along the edges just waiting for something to happen. He reached a finger out and traced along the edge with an amused smile, he was tempted to drink it himself no matter the uselessness of the action. He glanced curiously at Sirius to see him hesitating though and snorted in amusement as he was running his hand vainly through his hair. "Not going to make me drink your toenails are you prat?"

Sirius was quite tempted to spit into his just to lord that over him, he knew James would still drink it anyways, but ah, do to recent activities, he wasn't sure how much of it would be his own. So glaring at the arse, he delicately plucked at one precious lock, and winced with little pain as it came loose but watched eagerly as he dropped it down.

It was the brightest of scarlets, like if the sun had struck a ruby just right and dumped the color into his cup. He swirled it about like a fine wine and pursed his lips to stop the urge from licking it, but finally swapping cups and grinning like the loons they were as they tossed them back.

The two gasped in unison for how unpleasant the whole thing felt, but thankfully it was over quickly enough. They were shaking their heads though, still unintentionally mimicking each other as they held their new hands in front of their faces.

"Glory Prongs, it's a good thing you haven't lost your glasses. You'd be even more useless without them." It was so weird to hear his own voice, the deer nickname coming from his throat. James decided he didn't really like it as he figured out why the world was blurry and painful to focus on, removing them and passing them wordlessly along. His nose felt weirdly light and bare despite the fact Sirius' should feel no such thing.

Finally though he could properly see, himself. He briefly wondered for a moment if this could be sort of like looking at his son later, before quickly reminding himself like he had downstairs to knock off those kinds of thoughts now.

The two wordlessly exchanged clothes and kept uncomfortably flexing their shoulders and stretching, but by the time they were done it felt almost bearable.

"Don't know how that Crouch Jr. freak managed this for a year," James grumbled, still disturbed to not hear his voice come out and be staring at himself. "This is weird."

"Well thankfully the effects aren't permanent," Sirius sniffed, scratching oddly at his bare neck. "May the best man win!"

"I intend to," he said at once, fighting back the urge to pull Sirius' hair into a ponytail, it was heavier than he'd expected and he felt flush. Though after running his fingers uncomfortably through it for a moment he admitted to himself he had no idea how and he'd probably just hurt himself and either cause Sirius to piss himself with laughter or threaten bodily harm, either was likely.

The book had still been going, and Sirius grinned eagerly as he made his way towards the living room, at least that was a familiar expression on his own face. He obviously thought he could last longest around Evans, and he was probably right, he'd just have to stand there looking at her, the git. There was no fun in that though, and while Sirius was probably more concerned with winning and bragging rights, James wanted a challenge, so he went off in the direction he'd seen Remus go.

He found him quickly enough in Slughorn's room of all places and tried not to look too pleased he found him fidgeting with his shirt and a contemplative look on his face. The bed was all kinds of messed up like he'd been jumping on it for some reason. He had to remind himself not to try and falsify his voice when Remus glanced up. "What's on your mind Moony?"

"My treat," he sniffed. "Where's that pineapple you promised, I'm withholding round two until then."

James silently cursed himself and instantly regretted this, clearly he had missed a conversation between them and had no idea what they'd been up to. Still, he was nothing if not adaptable, and stepped forward to try and sooth out, "you'll get that crystal pineapple when I get mine."

At first he'd thought it might have worked, Remus got a smirk in place that always meant he was up to something, but then he whispered, "is that a challenge?" His hand moved to rest on the inside of James' thigh.

He jumped back like he'd been electrocuted again, accompanied by a high-pitched yelp that he would deny upon death he could ever make. He heard distantly something dropped in surprise in another room, his nose scrunched up in involuntary disgust as he watched Remus in concern. "The hell mate?"

"What-" he looked as confused as James felt now, but then he scrutinized him for several long seconds and demanded, "James?" His own face puckered with some anger and grotesque now.

"Yeah?" It took a moment for him to remember why his voice still sounded odd, and it wasn't all shock. He'd honestly forgotten he was in Sirius' body there for a moment. "How'd you know it was me?" He was only minorly distracted as he realized he lost and still watched his hand wearily, though it had fallen back into his lap.

"Because Sirius has never in his life done that," Remus said stiffly, and James froze in surprise as Moony's eyes flickered up to his own hand, which had been unintentionally ruffling up his hair with nerves. He cleared his throat awkwardly and smoothed his hand down the long main instead, but he knew the gig was up.

"Right," he muttered, far more concerned than anything still and not trying to play it off. "Found some Polyjuice Potions in Slughorn's stores, thought we'd have some fun, sure you didn't find anything you shouldn't have drunk? Like Essence of Insanity?"

Shock quickly collapsed down on Remus, he surged to his feet with a look of pure terror. "Oh shit, James? Um, look, we, I mean I, he was going to-" his eyes began darting to the door and back to him and changed to cussing fluently and backing away from him nearly to the wall.

"Hey, Remus, relax," James quickly soothed, taking a step towards him without even thinking. "I'm not angry, alright, breathe mate. Just, what the hell?"

Remus took several shaky breaths and still wouldn't even look at him, and James was starting to feel really bad. In his defense, that had come out of bloody nowhere, but Remus obviously hadn't done it on purpose, right? Maybe he'd been trying to grab at Sirius as a weird joke or whatever, hell is that what they kept whispering about, had Padfoot figured it out? They'd made weirder werewolf jokes to each other if so. He didn't at all want Remus to think he'd care if the guy was gay, he half suspected it sometimes as he showed such little interest in the girls back at school.

"Everything okay in here?"

The two jumped and turned around to see Evans of all people standing in the doorway, a look of genuine concern on her face as she watched the two. "There's been shouting." She clarified when the silence persisted.

"Um, yeah," he thought he grinned believably enough. He now had to fight off the compulsion with more effort than ever not to rumple up his hair in delight at the mere sight of her and was almost grateful for Moony catching him at that.

She still hovered, and both suddenly realized the book had been silent for quite some time, but there was still some kind of raised voice they'd been blocking out, and maybe it wasn't 'Sirius' shouting she'd meant. "Might want to check on your mate," she finally said, and confirmed as she shrugged and walked back off.

The two exchanged a very concerned look, what the hell had Sirius gotten himself up to? James went after her at once, beckoning to Remus without a second thought and filing this away for later. Moony thankfully followed without hesitation, even if he was a few paces behind than was natural.

She'd only got about halfway through the chapter and was feeling quite dispirited their teacher was on the run from Death Eater's in this Muggle neighborhood, but at least he'd agreed to come back. Dumbledore had been stepping into the broom shed back at the Burrow when Potter came in. There was an odd air about him, he kept scratching at the back of his neck and rotating his shoulders as he went and sat on the floor watching her with a stupider look than usual on his face.

Regulus and Pettigrew had been having some quiet kind of conversation about this new development and all it entailed for Hogwarts staffing. It didn't seem Potter was going to participate, until Pettigrew turned to him and asked, "What do you say Prongs, would you swap Vector out for anyone or take our chances?"

"Um," Sirius stuttered for only a moment. Damn, he hadn't taken Arithmancy with those three idiots, but he'd heard them complain enough over the years he could get along. "Guess we'll keep her around and avoid her, we've enough practice."

Regulus gave him a rather testy look he couldn't begin to guess at, he really didn't know his brother at all anymore.

One bridge at a time, he amended in his head. He still wasn't even clear on Regulus' loyalties. He was asking questions now and clearly trying to loosen up, but still defending the house-elf that got him killed and he still could not separate from their parents no matter what Regulus tried to say.

Peter kept going in an off-hand kind of way of forced casualness still, "look, I'm sure you're curious what Sirius was saying-"

"Not really," Sirius grinned.

Peter looked floored and a little hurt, so Sirius quickly gave himself a mental kick and redirected, "it's between you two." He stopped there and bit his tongue, he wasn't going to speak for Prongs and say everything was all good. James had been the one to convince him to even start at forgiving Peter, but he wasn't going to assume that meant he was all good either.

"He listens to you though," Peter tried to keep going, "and I was just hoping you could tell him-"

'Oh crap,' Sirius tried right then to give it up, he was not going to let Peter think he was talking to James and cause another fight later for this stupid prank! "Hey Wormtail-" Peter was already looking so annoyed, how had this gone so wrong so fast?

"Would you let me finish real quick-"

"No, really mate, I'm not-"

Regulus snapped.

He admired Peter was trying to keep going now around the obnoxious bloke still not taking a hint, but he couldn't just sit here and watch this anymore. "Can you not let him finish one bloody sentence without your opinion! I am so sick of you thinking you know what's best for everyone around here, no one elected you leader!"

He did not hear the thunk of something being dropped in the kitchen, nor realize Evans had lowered the book and was looking at them wearily before getting up, probably to finish reading in another room, though he doubted he'd take in a word of it now.

Peter felt too floored to notice any of it either, fighting down the urge to get between Regulus and James any second, but James didn't go for his wand. He didn't even seem upset or angry. Instead, there was some mingled look of pity, almost regret on his face which didn't at all track with the way he kept side-eying Regulus lately.

Sirius watched, half in fascination half in guilt as he let Regulus tear into Prongs, wincing for each blow his little brother dealt and glad to be taking this for James regardless.

"Ever since Sirius came home that first bloody summer all he's talked about is your bloody opinion on everything and I'm sick of hearing it!"

Sirius was starting to get annoyed by that point, he wasn't some mindless yup like his little brother and let Prongs speak for him, but he forced himself to hold his tongue and let Regulus get it all out now, he didn't even notice the other three coming back down the stairs.

James sure as hell wasn't going to allow the same when he took the scene in. He wasn't going to let Sirius' new passive approach to the two of them allow them to dog ear his best mate like that, and he immediately shoved Regulus. "Back off you bastard, now!"

Regulus looked stricken for just a moment before his face settled back into that cool mask of indifference the Black's carried so well. Sirius felt a pang in his heart the kid managed that at his age, his little brother even twitched for his wand, but Sirius forced his way between the two, snatching the vial out of James's pocket before this could escalate.

"Listen, we swapped bodies, okay! James and I, we found some Polyjuice Potion, we thought it would be fun! Merlin, how long you been holding that in Reg?" He still didn't really regret it when Regulus gave the both of them a look of deepest loathing and stormed up the stairs, slamming something up there. He didn't want to know what Prongs really would have said to him if he'd been down here this whole time.

Evans gave them a scathing look as well and turned quickly away to finish, muttering about their idiocies and stupid pranks again. Even Moony wouldn't meet his eye and Longbottom and Alice were watching from the kitchen with slightly open mouths like they still couldn't believe the stupidity they got themselves into.

Only Peter was left actually looking at them, and he was biting his lip to hold back a smile. Little shit. Whether he actually found the whole thing funny or was laughing at them neither could really be sure, and that was as irksome as Regulus' reaction.

The two gave each other exasperated looks, Sirius finally saying, "think we should hold off trying to get the others to laugh for now Prongs?"

"Guess there's no point in a prank if no one's going to laugh, not even us," he huffed in agreement, still eyeing the stairs with great dislike Sirius was far too used to seeing on his own face regarding his brother, but for the first time realizing James hadn't just been defending him, or himself, whichever. There was something else in what had just happened.

Evans watched them for a few more moments before saying with a guilty look upstairs the chapter was done and finishing good as her word.

HPHPHPH

You didn't really think I could go the whole book without some sibling drama did you? I wouldn't know what to do with myself at this rate!

* Porn will be posted in a separate post shortly.

[secretadventuresociety]

Episode 27 Recap

What’s up SASholes?! I’m Bren; resident SAStorian and note-taker extraordinaire. Welcome to Episode 27: Under New Management.

The Xarus Problem

We last left off with Kess staring down her jilted ‘lover’ (I mean, if you can call an arranged husband a lover), Xarus, who had just revealed he now owns her childhood home. Well, I say home. I guess childhood MANSION is technically more correct. Anyway, as this red-headed scum delights in Kess’ confusion, a flock of guards file in behind him all dressed in black; anticipating an attack. True to form, Pearce leans over to Kess and asks if he should shoot him, and she waves him away, blowing the whole thing off as a joke. Turns out that ole Xarus lost his humor in a tragic Born-Without-A-Soul accident, so he stares back flatly and invites the group to dinner; suggesting the trio clean up beforehand.

Kess loudly announces that her mother (Norse), Zev, Kü, and Pearce are going to… help… brush her hair? And Xarus just accepts it?? So the definitely-not-suspect group file up to Kess’ bedroom, led by Norse. The party takes in their spotless lavish surroundings in a mixture of disgust and disbelief-- and then they find their destination. The room might as well be adorned with a neon sign reading ‘Messy Kessy’. The colors inside are dark and earthy, with flora and drawings of fauna littering the walls, lit by a majestic bay window. In an awkward silence, Kü compares the living space to the shit-covered walls of his cavern home, then switches gears to ask if all fathers come with so much tension.

Norse gently explains that Xarus isn’t Kess’ father, but was her husband-to-be, who recently took over the house and the super-secret ‘family business’. Surprise-- Kess’ family is a band of merry Robin Hoods who keep Mardosta eating with silver spoons. Despite being there the whole time— Norse doesn’t quite understand how the boring, ginger-haired square of a man grew the balls to overthrow their reign of thievery; but she momentarily morphs into fantasy Vin Diesel (not actually, I know it’s a little weird ‘cause technically she’s a changeling and very much COULD do that) and tells Kess they can handle it As A Family.

An Iris by Any Other Name

After assuring The Nobodies aren’t going to kill Xarus in his sleep, Mama Shadowmore pulls Kess aside and leads her to the family greenhouse. It smells overwhelmingly like smoke, and as they enter, Kess sees hundreds of her black and white flowers. You know the ones. Norse then tells her how they tried to cover Kess’ absence, the way she would go into the greenhouse to just sit somewhere that smelled like her daughter (OUCH, dude), and all about the first night she saw one of the Irises appear. From that night on, Norse and Kess’ father Arthur would sit and wait for a flower to bloom; knowing somehow it was connected to their daughter’s safety. Now, if you thought your teeth were rotting out from the sweetness already-- that’s when Kess hugs her mom for the first time in years, and sometime during the embrace, Norse drops her high elf facade and embraces her daughter in all her changeling glory before Kess grows a flower just for her. Touching stuff. You crying yet? No? Just me?

Dry those eyes, though, because now we’re on to some shenanigans. As Kess and her mom are off repairing their relationship, Pearce and Kü attempt to make themselves at home. After grabbing a drink with Zev, the pair stake out a guest bedroom with an adjoining bathroom. Pearce ushers Kü inside and offers to guard the door as he showers, which the kobold has CERTAINLY done before. Tons of times. In his underground home. Despite this setback, Kü figures out the tub quickly, but the challenge becomes when he needs to drain the water. He finds a bucket, remembers that the toilet gets rid of its own fluid, and scoops up the grimy bathwater like a scaly Mickey Mouse. But that’s not all. Getting to the bottom of the tub, he notices a chain floating in the dregs and hauls out a crowbar to liberate it.

Pearce, hearing a sudden thump and fearing a sneak attack, manhandles his way into the bathroom and finds a wet Kü who laments about the ‘necklace’ at the bottom of the tub. The gunslinger quickly realizes it’s a chain for the drain (heh, a rhyme) and shoves Kü out. He then takes a pile of Zev’s clothes he found and dresses, appalled at the deep-v tunic and skin tight leather pants he is now sporting. Being his only choice, he chastely covers his bare chest and spikes his hair, coming out of the bathroom to help Kü shine his helmet. Yes, that helmet. Pearce is making Mother’s skull GLEAM. Kess, after realizing she could just change her form in lieu of ACTUALLY bathing, brings Kü a long silk tunic to replace his dress and steals a white button-up from her dad for Pearce. Now they’re Awkward Dinner Party ready!

Evil Exes, Amirite?

In case you’ve forgotten, Kess has a Brady-Bunch-worthy family. She runs into her dad, and later all three of her brothers: Zev, his twin Voss, and Rook. However, these aren’t all of the introductions the party is subjected to. As they enter the dining room in what I can only imagine is Oh My God They’re So Hot Slow Motion (with Kess donning her owl, Tibbins, for intimidation), they lay eyes on an unfamiliar and unimpressed elven woman who Xarus introduces as Sienna-- his current fiance. Well, he sure did move on fast. Between Sienna’s eye rolls, Kü’s harried feasting, and EVERYONE’S overwhelming discomfort, Xarus describes how he grew suspicious when Kess disappeared. After a little digging, he found out about the family’s arrangement with the city’s mayor, Vendreth; how he caught her criminal parents and promised them protection if they used their forces to help his failing city thrive.

Kess doesn’t see any issue, but Xarus laments that the townspeople have no idea who is running the show. It’s a clear threat, as Kess realizes the denizens would run them out of Mardosta if they knew the truth. Happy with himself and his mind games, Xarus invites his elven mistress to retire to their chambers with him…. if you know what I mean. She emotionlessly agrees, and the two leave the family alone. The Nobodies excitedly chatter about their exploits; no adventure going untold. Kü even introduces his mother, Marrow, and spends a moment praising Norse for being a good mother too. Pearce changes the subject to their treasure map, showing it briefly to Voss. He has no idea what the X’s could mean, but implores them to keep him updated. Norse then asks how long the party is staying-- enticing them with an upcoming festival that is SURE to have stickmeat. Kess proposes they stay for a while, saying they could make use of the family library and also figure out what the X closest to Mardosta hides.

Pearce not-so-subtly asks about the family’s trading habits, mostly trying to gauge if they have any dealings with his absent father. Turns out this ain’t an arms race, it’s a goddamn scene, and with routes halted in Larsham and Evercrest, the business has slowed down to a trickle. Kess breaks the business talk with a proposal for her companions and her siblings to go out on the town, and so they all prepare for a night in Mardosta. Pearce grabs his gun, Kess raids Rook’s training room for daggers (noticing a hefty potion collection), and everyone bundles up for the biting weather as they walk to the docks.

The Return of Nice Ghost

Kü spots a stationary boat in the water, with a rumpled dragonborn climbing out of it. Sus. As they get closer, they notice that it’s not a boat at all, but a disguised opening to a meeting spot called ‘The Underfrost’. Kess leads them down the cavernous tunnel lined with torches until they reach the bottom. Once there, they feast their eyes on merchants, a bar, and an imposing fighting pit-- all teeming with figures of all races. Kü jumps on the chance to, as he so eloquently describes it, ‘fuck shit up’; racing off with Voss and Zev in tow to sign up to battle. Kess instructs Pearce to place bets for the both of them as she grabs drinks… which turns out to be a monumentally bad idea. Pearce throws down 500 gold on Kü for himself but-- without express instructions from the druid-- dumps out her bag and wagers all of her 1,275 pieces of gold.

It turns out Kü is the next challenger to face… get this… Dickius Muscular. Is it his fantasy God-given name or a stage moniker? The world may never know. In any case, fervent hands push him toward the pit-- one attempting to remove his helmet. In retribution, Kü bites the tip of the offending person’s pinkie off, keeping his adornment as he summons a flood of shadows from it to cover him in armor. Thus the fight begins, and the massive goliath Dick...ius attacks our boy Kücifer with a mace in a blinding rage. Kü retaliates with his Bonemerang-- and when that does less damage that he expected, he summons Nice Ghost to keep him company. The spectral being chases after the goliath relentlessly; booping him any time he can come close. Dickius flees from the spectre, pursuing Kü-- who wreaths himself in shadow and disappears. Out of the darkness comes two fireballs, liberated from the kobold’s dwindling necklace.

Amazingly, this blast does not take his opponent out-- so Kü chugs a health potion as his vision suddenly goes green. He smells smoke and hears Mother in his head, asking to take a turn. He can do nothing but stare at Dickius as the shadows leave Kü to snake around the goliath and squeeze. Though deeply in pain, Dickius breaks free and heaves one last attack at Kü-- rendering him unconscious and sending Nice Ghost back into oblivion. With that, Kess rushes in to heal her friend, momentarily pissed at Pearce for losing all her money. Back on his feet, Kü shakily requests to be taken to bed, and the gunslinger scoops him up like a child and carries him; only to be repaid with a flow of vomit down his back as the kobold recovers slowly from his trauma. Still, Pearce keeps his composure and reassures Kü that he fought well, but begs him to try to sleep.

The Scream Heard ‘Round the Mansion

The group groggily returns to the family home and branches off to their respective rooms. Pearce gently lays Kü down and tucks him into bed before searching for a piece of paper and a writing utensil to pen a short note. He slips 200 gold into it and scrawls ‘I’m sorry’ onto the page. He slips out of the guest room to try and find Kess’ door-- and the one he picks, unbeknownst to him, is her parents’. However, our boy tried his best, so he returns to Kü; watching him as he sleeps. This dad-like worry Pearce has got going on makes me SOFT, y’all. I need MORE.

Kess, however, forgoes sleep for a time and instead grabs a bottle of wine from the kitchen. She takes it to the greenhouse and attempts to grow her second flower of the day-- which she has never done before. It takes a little more effort, but it does sprout, and she pleadingly asks to speak with the friend she grows them for. She waits, but no answer comes. Kess finishes the wine and stumbles up to her room, leaving the window open for good measure. She and Kü are sleeping soundly while Pearce fitfully wakes up from his perch on the sleeper sofa every so often to watch Kü’s chest rise and fall (PASS ME THE TISSUES). During one of his half-awake moments, Pearce watches the candle in the room extinguish and simultaneously hears a scream coming from downstairs.

Leaving the passed out kobold, Pearce takes off, only to be intercepted by Kess, who we all know has the passive perception of a dog waiting for you to drop that pepperoni on your pizza, Karen. She pulls him into the stairwell and they end up at the opening of Xarus’ chambers-- Sienna standing speechless in the doorway. When she ends up being less than helpful, the duo slip into the room, immediately laying eyes on the lifeless body of Kess’ failed groom. I wish I could say I was at all upset about this revelation, but I would be lying to you, dear readers. However, we now have a murder mystery on our hands! WHODUNNIT?!

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TL;DR

Our heroes attended a dinner party more uncomfortable than all of my family reunions put together. Talk about second-hand anxiety!

Kü is the Underfrost Fighting Pit Champion in my heart and I hope he gets a rematch against… *checks notes* the Goliath’s dick.

RIP, Xarus— ex-fiancé and stick in the mud. See you in hell.

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Kess’ed Be and catch the next session over at twitch.tv/lochness on July 21st at 7:30CST/8:30EST! AND if you’d like to watch THIS episode, you can find it at the link below: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xyi5JkW-SNY

[datenightfright]

Infamous

This story is dedicated to Oiwa. Thank you for allowing me to share your story, may you one day find peace.

Previous/Next

Pairing: Kayako Saeki x WOC Reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood, stabbing. 

As always, thank you to @mlmdarkfiction and @doodleferp for letting me rant until I figure things out and giving me the best ideas to work with. Your help is indispensable. 

Things were strange nowadays. Somehow, someway, you had become more famous than your husband. When the news of your husband’s strange death hit the media, news crews were outside of your house immediately to bombard you with questions. Did you think it was the work of Kayako? Would his new book be published posthumously? Did you notice anything strange about the house? Did you have any idea who murdered Haru? You did what the police advised you to do. You made a blanket statement to the media at a press conference stating that you hoped your husband’s killer felt remorse and that they would come forward soon, and that you hoped, with time, you’d be able to find happiness once more. You even managed to sound perfectly broken up about the whole matter. 

Some people said you were the one that had done it. Well not, physically, but you’d hired a jealous lover to off him. Thankfully those people were in the minority. The prevailing theory that was some crazy fan had felt slighted by him and decided to end his life the moment he stepped foot outside his house. The theory among his fans though...that was closer to the truth than you’d like to admit. They were adamant that the house had killed him. That the ghost of Kayako had offed him and chucked him out a window. The hole in that theory, however, was why you and your daughter still lived. Didn’t Kayako kill everyone that entered her house?

When you’d told his mother over the phone, the normally stern, composed woman became a wreck of lamentations for her lost son. You helped you father-in-law arrange the funeral, as was your duty, and decided to hold the viewing in their home, since yours had such awful rumors hanging about it. The funeral had been a quick one, but tiring nonetheless. 

Now you were alone in your house, letters and presents from fans stacked about the place, wondering what the hell you were going to do with your life. You had to get a job. Being able to feed yourself and your daughter was of the utmost importance to you. Luckily, it wasn’t such a pressing matter, as Haru left everything he had to you, which was a sizable amount of money, and being his widow meant you got all the royalties from his book. But still, that money would dry up eventually, then where would you be? 

You hum and splash warm water over your daughter. She giggles as you do so. “Clean baby!” You coo, rinsing the soapy water from her feet. “I have a clean baby!” When you’re finished, you pick her up and bring her to your chest, despite her soaked state. She giggles as you place kisses to her cheek. You turn to gather the towel, managing not to yelp when you find Kayako standing directly behind you, towel already in hand. 

You ignore what looks like Kayako wanting to hold your baby, and instead simply take the towel from her. “Thank you,” You say, wrapping your baby up. “Clean baby,” You start to sing again, “I have a clean baby.” You shuffle past Kayako, holding your baby close as you go. 

You continue to sing as you dry Sakura off, dress her, and feed her. Today was going to be a big day. Today you were going to meet with someone that might be able to help you with your problem. You might be able to rid yourself of Kayako once and for all. If not for your sanity, then for the sake of your daughter’s ability to lead a normal life. 

You feel her presence as you put on your shoes. She was always there at the door when you put on your shoes. Her death rattle soon to follow. This time, she grabbed your arm, startling the hell out of you. She was cold, so damnably cold. You look into her eyes. Normally they’re empty pits of black, but now they look...panicked almost. “I’ll be back,” You find yourself saying. “I don’t know when, but I’ll be back.” You give her a shaky smile. She seems to find that an acceptable answer as she lets go of your arm after a moment’s hesitation. Without another word, you slip out the door. 

You try not to rush out of the shadows of the house, but you couldn’t help it. All the time you could get outside of that damnable place was a moment of fresh air and sunshine. Gloom hung eternal around the home, and god dammit you needed to breathe every once in a while. You turn on to the main road, feeling yourself relax more the further away from the house you got. 

You make it to your mother-in-laws house with little problem. Parking on the side of the street, you get out and gather your baby. Before you shut the back door, your mother-in-law is rushing down the drive to greet you. She pulls you into a hug before taking Sakura from your arms. Ever since Haru died she’d been more...tolerable of your presence, sometimes going overboard with affection. It was still awkward for the both of you, but neither of you said anything about it. Perhaps it was because you were the mother of her last connection with her baby boy and she understood that you could take all that away from her. Ironic, really. 

You hurry up the drive behind her as she babbles to the baby about how much fun they were going to have. You both stop in the doorway, you huffing at your slight exertion, and your mother-in-law giving you that infuriating expectant look. Some things never changed. “Here,” You say, shoving the baby bag to her chest, not caring how rude it was. She didn’t have Haru to bitch at any more, thus, you didn’t have a care in the world. “I’ll be back tomorrow evening,” You say, giving your baby a quick kiss. “You be good for Grandma ok?” You say as she giggles. 

Waving bye to her you enter your car once again, you blow kisses before your line of sight is cut off by a closed door. You were silently thankful for your mother-in-law, even if you still didn’t like her. One night to get this shit figured out, one afternoon meeting. You were hellbent on riding yourself of this curse, or die trying. A momentary skip of your heartbeat as you thought of your baby. Would she go down with you? If you played your cards right, Sakura would at the very least be safe from the curse. 

You try to speed your way to your destination, but find yourself lost in the maze that is Japan. Looking over and over at your list of directions, you were lucky enough to park with more than enough time to make it to your meeting. 

You fix yourself as you hurry towards the building. Professor Ibuki Sato had agreed to meet with you to discuss your current circumstances. Well, alright, he hadn’t agreed to meet you, more like begged. He was a professor of the paranormal at a community college and had been one of your late husband’s most ardent fans. He emailed you days ago, wanting to know what really happened. You didn’t trust him one bit, so you were going to monitor your story as much as you saw fit and gauge his reaction from there. You only wanted help for one thing, and you were going to go to hell and back to get it. 

You easily find your way to the professor’s room. You knock lightly, trying to adjust your outfit again. You couldn’t understand why you were so nervous. The door opens and one girl comes out, looking bored and irritated. There was an aura around her that reminded you of the house. It was so strong, you had to take a few steps back. She looks at you curiously, but says nothing as she walks away. You watch her as she leaves. 

“Mrs. Kubo!” A loud voice interrupts your rude staring. A disheveled man looks brightly at you. “Come in!” He says, holding the door wide open for you. “Thank you,” You mutter, bowing to him and hurrying in. 

“Please, have a seat.” he motions to a chair. You sit, sinking right into its squishiness. It would be comfortable if not for the fact that you were so nervous. Professor Sato sits across from you, a smile flitting across his face. It wasn’t a perverted one at the very least, just a bit awkward. “I’m so sorry about your husband,” he says. You nod, making a non committal noise. “He was a pioneer in the field,” Sato said awkwardly, “I mean he, he-”

“Can we cut to the chase?” You ask gently. The professor looks relieved. “Is the house really haunted?” He asks. “Yes,” You simply say. “But it’s weird.”

“Weird? How? Haven’t you lived in haunted places before.” You snort. “None of them were haunted.” You tell him. Shaking your head, “Not like this anyway. Kayako…” You pause trying to find the right words. “It’s been three months,” You say, exasperated. “Three months and she’s done nothing more than jump scare me by standing behind me when I least expect it.” Sato frowns at your explanation. “She cooks breakfast most mornings, and dinner, she does the dishes. She’s even done the laundry once. She’s always hovering like...like she’s waiting to help or something.” You continue to ramble for nearly ten minutes about all the things she did. Making the bed, arranging shoes neatly by the door, even putting papers in neat, organized piles. Sato listened without interrupting. 

“It sounds like she’s in love,” He says blandly. The statement shocks you so bad you physically jump. “Excuse me?” 

“Think about it,” Sato says, “Making food, cleaning up around the house, it all sounds like she’s trying to take care of someone she’s in love with.” Your brow furrows, your brain somehow not able to puzzle it out. “Who the hell could she possibly be in love with?” You mutter. Your husband was dead, and the last man she was married to killed her so violently she still haunted the mortal realm. Sato looked at you, highly amused. “You,” He says through a chuckle. “That’s absolute bullshit.” You deadpan. This causes him to throw his head back with laughter. “Is it?” 

“Yes!” You say, standing up in indignation, “It is! There’s no way in hell she’s in love with me. She’s dead!” 

“In Japan, the dead are thought to be born from high emotions, to feed off them. Hatred and rage are two of the most powerful, but so is love.” Sato explains, “Here, I want to show you something.” Sato moves towards his desk and you follow him. He brings out a journal and hands it to you. “It’s Kayako’s journal,” He says, pride obvious in his voice. You don’t even want to begin to think about how he’d gotten it. 

You take the journal but don’t open it. “Well?” Sato says, obviously excited. You grimace. “I don’t think it’s right,” You say, putting the book on the desk. Sato looks at you with confusion. “You said it yourself, she’s dead.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to live with her ghost.” you mutter. Sato nods in acquiescence. “The journal describes her life from the time she was eight years old to the moment of her death.” Sato explains, taking to book up again. “It serves as the counterpoint that tipped the balance in her disfavor. It seems as though she was obsessed with someone during her lifetime.”

“Obsessed?” You murmur. Sato nods. “She followed him everywhere. Watched him. His name is written all over the pages of her book.” He holds the object in question in the air. “It’s possible that, by some miracle, her curse has changed from vengeance, to one of unrequited love.”

“You’re damn right it’s unrequited! I want her out of my life! She makes me miserable, I don’t-” You stop, gaining control of yourself. “I don’t want my baby to grow up in that damned place,I want her to survive this stupid curse. But I don’t have many options.” 

Sato presses his lips together. “I’ll have to do some research.” He tells you honestly. “Can I give you a call?” You huff, running your hands through your hair in frustration. “Fine,” You say, “Fine. You know how to get in touch with me.” You turn on your heel to leave but pause. A familiar flash of black moves across a picture frame. Kayako. Shit. She heard everything, of that, you were sure. 

*

You lived in fear. Any day now Kayako would extract her extreme revenge, you just knew it. You wince at a creak sounding off somewhere in the house. Yes, any moment now Kayako was going to come out of hiding and end your life. 

You huff and roll over, hoping she would just do it already. The suspense was making you a nervous wreck. Another creak, another wince. Was it windy outside you wonder? The house is usually as silent as a tomb. Perks of it being haunted you guessed. You groan and flop over on your back. You were getting nowhere. “Kayako?” You called out, for the zillionth time. And for the zillionth time no response. 

Two weeks, it had been two weeks since your fight with Kayako. If you could even call it a fight. After your meeting with Sato, you’d come home to a completely wrecked house. Furniture upturned, papers everywhere, pictures on the walls hung askew. You had tried calling for her, and at first, she hadn’t come out. Not until you reached the master bedroom where she had scared the living daylights out of you. 

You had yelled at her. Fear had given you the push you needed to voice your opinion. She scared you, and no one could really blame you. She was known for her merciless killings. She was toying with you, and you hated that. You wished she would just get it all over with. But spare you baby, please God spare your baby. With your confessions hanging in the air, she disappeared. You hadn’t seen her since, despite trying to get in touch with her. 

Sato seemed unreachable as well. Phones in the house didn’t work, whether it was because of Kayako, you didn’t know. But your computer worked just fine. You’d send him several emails, wondering if he got anywhere, but no response from him. You were worried, but too scared to track him down. What if he died because of your visit? You really didn’t want to find out. 

Just as you were about to drift off into a fitful slumber, Kayako’s death rattle started up. You screamed and flung yourself away from the door, off the bed and to the floor. This is it, you think, she’s going to kill me now. Thank God Sakura was with her grandmother for her weekly visit. The door bursts open and Kayako begins to crawl in, her black hair obscuring her face. “Come on,” You whisper, fear rooting yourself to the spot. “Come on, come on, come on,” Tears begin to run down your face. You’ve accepted your fate long ago. You were ready even if you were scared. 

You let out another screech as the sound of a cat’s cry meets your left ear. You throw yourself against the night stand. Toshio was sitting in his usual position, crouched with his hands on his knees, mouth wide open. He looked...terrified to you. Not like the empty soul he usually looked like. But genuinely scared. A grating sound rips your attention away from him. You look over the bed, Kayako has stopped moving towards you. She was now moving backwards...no...that’s not right...she was being dragged backwards, her nails digging into the wooden floor, leaving claw marks in their wake. She looked to you, her face also screwed into one of terror. “Kayako?” You breathe, wondering what the hell was going on. 

You scream as furniture begins to shake, a great rumbling tears through your home. You’re convinced for one moment that the house is going to rip itself in two. “Kayako?” You yell over the cacophony of it all. Motherly instinct overcomes you, and you drag Toshio to your side, he clings to you as though his life, or lack thereof, depends on it. Kayako continues reaching for you. She’s jerked, once, twice, three times before you spring into action. “Kayako!” You leap over the bed and grab her wrists. 

You now know something is wrong from the way she clings back. You play a strange game of tug of war before you’re jerked forward. Your grip on her is so tight you’re dragged right through the doorway before slamming into the hall’s wall. The shocking force of the hit loosens your grip a fraction and Kayako is pulled from you. “No!” You run for her. 

Down the stairs you go, stopping only when you get to the living room. Why the hell did everything exciting happen in the living room? “What the ever loving hell are you doing?!” You screech. A figure in the middle of the room turns to you. “This is the only way!” They yell, from the sound of it, they were male. “You don’t have to worry anymore!” He continues, “I know how to really get rid of her, once and for all, there will be no more Kayako!” 

“No!” You scream, lunging for him. He easily brushes you off, throwing you to the ground. You watch in horror as the man reaches behind him. Your horror turns to confusion when he brings out what looks to be a small child rather than a weapon. The tiny thing struggles against him, to no avail. “With this sacrifice, Kayako will-” The man doesn’t finish his sentence. Aiming for his knees, you tackle him to the ground. He falls on you with a soft ‘oomph’. Luckily, you were prepared for the inevitable catch and rolled him off with little hardship. You scramble to your feet. Grabbing for the child, you’re met with no resistance as you run off into the house. “Come back here, you bitch!” The man thunders. 

You race back to your room, slamming the door behind you. What the fuck? What are you going to do? Somewhere in your panicked brain you shove the child into the closet, hoping Kayako doesn’t pull one of her nasty tricks and kill the poor thing. They cry out, reaching for you, just as scared. You hush them, “You’re ok,” You say, “You’re ok, I won’t let him hurt you. Hush now, hush.” You shut the door to the closet as they fall silent. 

Your door rattles as the man rages on the other side. “You bitch! I’ll kill you!” He yelled, throwing himself against it. You look around your room for something to defend yourself with. You had a bat, but for the life of you, you couldn’t remember where you put it. You don’t get the chance to search for it before your door bursts open with a terrifying crunch. The man, half crazed in the moonlight, is huffing, staring at you. “You dog,” He hisses, “You will not stand in the way of my revenge.” 

“Why are you in my house?” You cry, legs shaking. “I’m here to kill Kayako!” He yells, “I’m going to end her miserable curse! You aren’t going to stand in my way!” He lunges for you, but misses. Still, he has you cornered in seconds. “I won’t let my daughter’s death be in vain! You won’t stop this!” He grabs for you once more, stumbling over one of Sakura’s toys. This allows you the precious seconds you need to dodge and run back down the stairs. 

He roars with rage, hot on your tail. You’re cornered easily once more in the kitchen. You whirl around to meet your attacker. There’s no way you’re going to get out of this alive, you’re sure of it. Maybe this is how the curse works? You think Kayako drives others to do her dirty work then picks the last one off. No, that wasn’t right, not in this instance. Kayako had been scared, Toshio too. This guy was the real deal. “You’re dead!” The man yells, stumbling forward. 

His hands wrap around your neck. You flail knocking everything on the counter over. You go down, he goes down on top of you. In the back of your mind, you’re reminded of Haru. Just a few months ago he tried choking you to death too. Kayako had saved you then, she wouldn’t now. A strange sense of calm overcame you, a sense of clarity. This was how you died. Unable to watch your precious daughter grow into a young woman. Unable to watch her fall in love for the first time, to have children of her own…

The man lets you go, slapping you hard. You taste blood in your mouth and spit it out. Your head is still reeling from the smack when his hands close around your neck again. That’s when you see it, a silver glint, a sliver of hope. A terrible rage overcomes you. For months you’ve lived in terror, for months you expected to die, night after night, in the most terrible of ways. You’ve tasted the brink of death more times than you wanted to. You’d had enough quite frankly. Moving automatically, you hand grips the knife, swinging it with all your might you instantly feel the pressure on your neck ease, then disappear altogether. Something warm drips onto your face as the mystery man slumps over, then finally topples off you. You lay there for a moment, taking in deep breaths of precious air. 

You close your eyes for a moment or two, trying to come to terms with what just happened. The rumbling of the house settles, things fall silent once more. You only open your eyes when you feel something brush against your face. This time, when you meet Kayako’s eyes you don’t flinch. She looks concerned, for what? You? You cough, spitting out more blood. Kayako rattles softly, touching your face. “I’m fine,” You croak, “I’m ok.” You sit up gingerly. 

Coldness overtakes you as Kayako presses herself behind you, her hands rest on your shoulders. When you don’t push her away she takes it as an invitation to get closer to you, wrapping you up in her arms, resting her cheek on your shoulder. You smile, running your fingers over her soft skin. You smile, because for the first time in a long time, you felt alive. And baby, it felt good to be alive.

[calypsoff]

Thirty.

I been out in Cali near enough every day, shit is cool as fuck around here. I mean it’s a little quiet when I am in the house, but I am chilling out every day, I be driving Robyn’ Porsche around doing my thing, talking to suppliers, other designers, went to meet up with Tyga. He doesn’t even live that far from Robyn, we just hung out for two days straight. I am living that Cali life and I am loving it to be honest. Why did I even think this place was bad, I may have been trying to prove a point to Robyn. Thinking of Robyn, I need to text her. Drake invited me to the club, he invited me to the club with him. I am so hype for this, I have got a barber to come out to Robyn’ crib and do my hair but I can see how you can spend a lot of money here, I think I have spent more then I should have but I can’t help it. Just living life, I am happy right now. Robyn and I, we speak sometimes and it’s always that awkward conversation because I left annoyed with her, and she was hating on me when I left because of what I said but we haven’t even spoke on it, she is somewhat busy and I am also, not busy but I just keep it to me. I don’t know what to do or say to Robyn to make her feel better or for her to not be angry with me. I just don’t know what to do or say, I tell her about when I go out but I just keep it to me mostly because Robyn doesn’t care right now, also she ain’t give me sex, so I have been without since. Imagine partying with Tyga in his crib with the finest bitches there, and I am backed up and not had sex. I would never cheat on Robyn, ever. But it’s hard, she can’t do that to me because I said she is skinny. It makes no fucking sense, and I will bring it up wit her when I do see her, when we meet again of course.

Barry and TJ are forever facetiming me, they said they will be coming soon to see me and they want to be living that Cali life “listen, I am still trying to get used to shit. Like right now I can go to Tyga’ crib and he be like cool, sit with me. He has bitches walking around naked as fuck, without a care. He just be having bitches, bro. It’s crazy, I am sat there with my mouth open like damn. Then I remember oh yeah Robyn” TJ busted out laughing “yo, you need to remember number one now, so you think we should have moved there” hearing the buzzer go off “uhm, honestly maybe yes but no. I spent too much money here, like I ended up throwing some money at these girls just twerking because niggas was doing, you know. What could I do, shit was behind closed doors, so I just like uhm here a dollar” I snorted laughing pressing the buzzer “who this!?” I asked, “It’s JC bro!” letting out an oh “cool, come through” unlocking the gate “that’s me out, I got my barber out here” TJ and Barry gasped “no fucking way, yo. We are coming there ASAP, fuck you!” I cackled; this is funny because I know these niggas are dying to come down “aight, I’m out” disconnecting the facetime, I need to look good. I am partying with Drake now so yeah, fuck that noise, making my way through the hallway to open the door, this place is too damn big. It’s a nice home but I don’t think its home for Robyn, like she ain’t have no personal pictures around, like she just comes here. Opening the door “what’s good? Thank you for coming out” dapping JC “bro Tyga told me, I got you for whatever you want” moving back to let him in.

My hair isn’t even that bad, but I needed that shape up “I hear you making a name for yourself though, like when Tyga told me and he said Chris Brown. I was like huh, and then he said that clothing line Black Pyramid so yeah, you are making a name for yourself” JC said, I grinned “I will hook you up bro, I got some gear over here bro. I got you” I am glad I bought some gear over “good looking out, thank you” I dapped him, my phone started to ring in my pocket “yo I got to take this, might be my twin” digging into my pocket “dang, imagine dating riri though” seeing the caller ID, I knew it would be Robyn. Answering the call “hey” she is probably asking about that text “so now Drake inviting you to the club, why? What are you doing over there?” I don’t know if she was joking at first, but I think she is joking “my handsome looks, but I said I had to check in with the lady of the house first” I lied, because I said yes before anything “mhmm, what if the lady says no?” I hope she doesn’t “no? Then my haircut is going to be wasted, but can I call you back. I have my barber here right now” Robyn let out an oh “that’s fine, call me whenever and you can go” she is so weird, her mood is horrendous “cool, aight. Bye then” I would like Robyn to say I love you, which she hasn’t in so long, but she didn’t “bye” the call disconnected.

I was going to call Robyn, but I decided against it, I just went to the club to meet up with Drake. I wore my best shit and I drove Robyn’ Porsche here, I have to look the part. You do really need to look the part when you deal and sit with people that are rich as fuck. I got out of the car, I don’t know if I leave it here and I go or I wait but this guy came over with his hand out, I passed him my keys and he got into the car and went, I could have gave Robyn’ car away without even knowing, imagine that. But I am sure he is part of the club; the valet guy is right here. The queue is crazy, but I will go ahead, I will try it anyways but he said my name is on the list so I suspect I just go inside, I mean what else would I do. Walking by the row of people, and I mean a lot of people that haven’t gone in. This tall guy just looked at me “name?” he asked “Chris, Chris Brown” if my name is not on the list I am so fucked, I will go home. He is taking his time “come through” he moved the barrier “hey, I know you!” some girl grabbed my tee, looking to the side of me at this female I don’t know “I know you, please get my girls in” I shook my head laughing “you light skinned niggas are not shit!” she spat, let me just go inside.

Dapping Drake’ entourage, they welcomed me like I am their own people “you came!” Drake said, dapping him but he hugged me instead “this nigga, he is a great guy. I have good feelings about people, and you are one of them, I think you are destined to be great. I am glad you came out, what you doing here? I thought you would be on tour” shaking my head “I am in cali, housesitting for my girlfriend, she wants me to get used to Cali and honestly, I am loving it” Drake laughed “you say girlfriend like it ain’t Rihanna, but that is amazing. This place is amazing, the people you meet. Also I want you to meet Nicki, hey” he waved Nicki Minaj over, this is mind blowing “no way” I said to myself, I am sweating now. Oh shit, she is real “meet a friend of mine Chris, Nicki, Nicki, Chris” she is pretty “awww hey, aren’t you the cutest” hugging her “thank you” I mumbled “oh wait, you are Rihanna’ boyfriend, oh my gosh. You are the sweetest thing!” she yelped out, am I that cute. She is making me laugh at her reaction “what can I say” I am only going to let her get away with calling me cute, I am a grown ass man.

I find this so surreal, to be in this section. To be getting free drinks, getting that VIP treatment. My life has changed, and I am so happy with everything, I am not planning on drinking anymore because I need to drive back so I am just drinking some Red Bull right now, that reminds me. Let me see what Twin is doing, she never called me when I said to her. She is so uptight, it’s dumb and I won’t call her. I am just going to text her, my phone screen lit up and I have got various messages from people but Robyn, shaking my head tapping on my messages and writing one out.

Chris: No text!?

Pressing send on the message, I said no text but yet I meant to say no call which made me laugh. Niggas are going crazy in my messages because I just posted a picture of Drake and I, I am the with the homie, I mean imagine being homies with Drake. Nobody from VA can say that shit, so my messages are going crazy, Robyn text me back.

Twin: Why would I text you?

Chris: I mean call but does it matter you didn’t!?

Twin: Right!

Chris: I am not going to fall out with yu but yu are being so stank with me

Twin: This skinny bitch will come back to you when she is better for you

Chris: wtf? I never called you a bitch Robyn! I mentioned yu lost weight and I didn’t like yu skinny it looks crazy on yu like yu are taking drugs!

Twin: FUCK YOU!

I am not even going to speak to her, let her sulk and be the way she is because as a boyfriend I told her the truth, maybe I shouldn’t have text her intoxicated but I don’t care. She has for real pissed me off, it’s not even that deep. I fucking care for her, shaking my head locking my phone “you want a drink?” the girl just came up at the side of me, she grabbed a wine glass from the tray “for you” staring at the glass and then her face, I don’t even know her “nah, I am good” shaking my head, I am not fucking with nothing like that.

Watching the gate close from the camera, I always go through this process, it’s a headache to make sure everything is locked and closed. Just give me a simple door to lock, rubbing my forehead feeling stressed. The gate closed outside “cool” my phone started to ring on the side, it’s Robyn. I deep down want to ignore it but I won’t, she called and I shall speak to her. Answering the call “what’s up?" I answered because it’s really early morning there so something is up “well you complained I didn’t call you but also you are actually an asshole, right. Hear me out” here we go, let me walk to the bedroom “you called me peak skinny and then all of a sudden you think I would want sex with you? Peak skinny, I be singing on stage and thinking about it. My boyfriend telling me I am peak skinny and now I look like I am taking drugs, do I look that bad to you!? You have made me feel like shit and yet you still have this shit attitude with me. I am here seeing you having the most fun, Tyga!? The pornstar that has women around for nothing, you think I wouldn’t see the picture, that I wouldn’t know. You may not do anything but you’re there smiling” I really don’t want to hear it “right, you done? I smiled seeing some ass because my own girlfriend doesn’t want to give that one up” I am too tired to care “you are actually unbelievable, maybe Cali isn’t for you. Just know you have really hurt me; I have a lot to think about because you are being the asshole you are now. Because I didn’t give you sex” funny how she picks on that “see what I mean with you, you pick on that one thing. You have been so stank with me; I have tried with you. I left that tour upset but did you care? I kissed your forehead and left, it’s always the Rihanna show when you are in the wrong here, what about your attitude!? I don’t want to argue with you” sitting on the edge of the bed “imagine calling your girlfriend peak skinny and that I look like I take drugs, you are a bastard Chris. Don’t call me back” she put the phone down, she is right. I won’t be calling back.

I jerked off of the bed in shock, my eyes shot open feeling my whole body just be in shock. The only thing that can be heard is me breathing heavily and I am sweating “damn” pushing the covers off of me, I am sweating. Wiping my forehead, it’s still night and actually I didn’t even close the blinds which I should have but it’s dark as fuck. Shaking my head getting up from the bed, maybe I had a nightmare or some shit, but I don’t think I was. Making my way to the bathroom, I kind of hate this home because it’s too big. It’s not the first time feeling like this actually, it’s just big and lonely. I am not scared but it’s just a little lonely to me, I froze hearing a loud thud, looking up at the ceiling. That was from upstairs, not even a lie that was. I swallowed hard, I ain’t even going to leave the bedroom like that. Jogging back over to the bed, I am going to call the police. The noise is a lot, I am downstairs, her room is here downstairs. Someone is here, maybe more. Pressing the phone to my ear “yeah yeah, someone is in the home. I ain’t left the bedroom but I can hear footsteps upstairs, the home is 7800 block of Hillside Avenue, the home belongs to Rihanna. I am her boyfriend Chris. I need someone to come out here ASAP” I ain’t a scared bitch but I still don’t want to go out there and get killed “sir we will send someone right over, can you lock the door where you are at now?” walking over to the door “I am downstairs in the bedroom, it’s a little quiet now. Should I check?” maybe I should, like what if they taking her stuff “sir please stay in the room and lock the door” licking my top lip, opening the door to see and I just flat out died inside seeing this grown ass man in my face, I dropped my phone and I went into fight mode.

[gcar90]

Blades of Grass Written by Carmen Ella Dedicated to Betty Lou; From a family that loves her

Naomi’s feet flew across the pavement as she raced into her school.  She hadn’t realized she was this far behind in her morning schedule until she glanced up at the clock and discovered that it was 10 minutes until  the start of her first class.  Panicked, she dashed off.  Naomi would be fine if she could make it to her seat before the bell rang.  If she was late, she might get a detention slip and that could jeopardize volleyball.  Miles of hallway remained before she would reach her destination, on top of stopping to get her books from her locker.  She needed to focus and hustle. Naomi huffed and puffed, weaving in and out of lanes of students, all moving at different speeds. Naomi couldn’t help but feel a little frustrated at the situation.  She couldn't figure out how she'd gotten herself so late.  The last thing Naomi remembered was walking across the street to the gas station for a soda.  After that, nothing, until she woke up this morning and was super late. With her goal in sight, Naomi checked her watch.  Score! Less than one minute left and the teacher was nowhere in sight.  There was plenty of time to be in her seat, before the bell rang, avoiding a tardy.   One final sprint and Naomi collapsed in her seat, resting her head of her table, trying to catch her breath.   It was too early in the morning to get so worked up and so exhausted.   Naomi reached for her purse, hoping to retrieve a water bottle for a drink.  Naomi heard the familiar muffled chatter and whispers of students waiting for class to begin.  She had a weird feeling.  Naomi shot a bewildered look at the clock.  Naomi been sitting for 20 minutes past the first bell of the day, but it hadn't rang.  Class didn't start.  Looking around the room, Naomi saw that the room was only half full of other students coming and going as they please, all while the teacher observed, subdued, from his desk.  Echoing from every corner in the room, sniffling, crying, and words of sympathy was heard.  Something was definitely wrong.  Naomi saw that her two best friends were drifting in through the open door.  She rose to go greet them.  “Guys!  What’s - -”  Naomi passed right through her friends.  “Huh?”  She shivered. “They can’t see or hear you,” answered a calm voice from the hall . What?  Why?“  Naomi jumped at the strange voice.  “Who are you?” “Hello, Naomi.“  A tall, plain woman stepped forward.  “Listen closely to what your friends and classmates are saying as we pass.” Naomi focuses on a nearby conversation.  Two students are talking.  Someone had been killed in an accident.  Naomi nods, still not putting all the pieces together.  She turned to the strange woman.  “Who are you?  How do you know my name?”   “My name is Judy.“  The woman smiles, trying to put Naomi at ease.  “I know your name because my niece is in your class.” “Your niece?”  Naomi follows Judy as she begins moving away down the hall. “Uh-huh.”  Judy points to an awkward girl with hair in her face.  The girl is sobbing and crying pretty hard.  “That’s her.” “The weird girl?“  Naomi makes a face.  “Nobody wants to be friends with her.”  Naomi blushed, changing her tone.  “Uh… sorry.  She’s your niece?” Judy smirked.  “Yes, she does have the reputation of being a bit, doesn’t she.  She is my niece.  Her name is Tressa.  I’ve been watching out for her.” “Watching out?”  Naomi cried.  “What do you mean?  And how come nobody can see or hear me?”  Naomi sits on a bench, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “Oh, honey.”  Judy goes over to Naomi and puts an arm around her shoulder.  “There’s no reason to cry.  I know this is all confusing and frustrating.  It’s okay.  I seem to have forgotten how unsettling all this can be for someone new to this experience.”   Naomi allows herself to be embraced by Judy, holding onto the woman, grateful for the solace.  Her attention wavers to some students are sitting against the wall.  They are telling stories.  A name drifts by Naomi.  Her own name.  “Judy, am… am I dead?” Naomi blinks, rapidly. Judy nods. “NOOOOO!”  Naomi began to wail and cling to Judy.  She trembled with each sobs. “There there, I know.“  Judy holds the girl tight, rocking her.  “Go ahead, sweetie, let it out.” Naomi cries for hours.  “How?” she squeaked. “Take this, baby-girl.“  Judy offered Naomi a silk, embroidered, handkerchief.  “How?’  You mean how did you die?” Naomi took the hanky, blowing her nose into it.  Folding and crumpling the tissue into her fist, Naomi wipes her tears with her shirt sleeve. “Remember when you went on your walk, yesterday?”  Judy, frankly, explained.  “You were hit by a car crossing the street.  The driver was drunk and going too fast.  By the time the police and ambulance arrived, your life was over.  I’m sorry, Naomi.” “Sorry?”  Naomi stared.   Judy nodded.  “Yes.  It’s a tragedy whenever a life so young is lost.  That’s why all your friends and classmates are like this.  They’re mourning.” “Mourning.”  Naomi repeated, then blinked, furrowing her brow.  “Is this Heaven?  Shouldn't I be in Heaven?  What is all this?” “No, this isn’t Heaven.  ”  Judy said.  “All we know about heaven, is that it is paradise.  But different people have different ideas on what that paradise is.  Like a city person would imagine Heaven to be a big city, with lots of buildings and streets of gold and people everywhere.  A country person might see Heaven as a beautiful garden.  Heaven can be something different to everyone, based on who's imagining it.  The only thing we know for certain, is that Heaven is a place where there is no pain or suffering.  As for what it physically looks like, the living cannot know.” “Is God here?”  Naomi asked.  “Am I going to meet Him?  Does He even exist?” “Oh, God exists.”  Judy explained.  “God is everywhere and everything.  It knows all, sees all, and does all.  In a way, you've already met it.” “It?  I thought God is a man.” “God is everywhere and everything.  Why shouldn't God be male and female or even a gender God chooses for itself?  God decides all things, right?” “I guess.”  Naomi slumped on her bench.   “Yes.”  Judy explained.  I am one of the guardian angels.   Do you know what a guardian angel is?” “Yeah.“  Naomi sat up, nodding.  “They are angels that are specifically designed to protect and guard the living .  My grand-”  Naomi choked back a sob.  “My gran-gran told me that for every blade of grass in there world, there is a guardian angel. ” “That's right.”  Judy pats Naomi on the shoulder.   “Is there something I'm supposed to do?  How do I...?”  Naomi trailed off. “I’ll show you what to do and how to do it,.  When you find who you're supposed to take care of you’ll take it from there and go off on your own.”  Judy returned.   “Thank you.”  Naomi felt small and numb. “Have faith, sweetie.”  Judy smiled.  “Everything will work itself out.  You'll see.” “Mmmm”  Naomi whined, “I don't want to be alone.  Since your the only one that can see or hear me, c-can I stay with you?” “Of course, honey.”  Judy smiled hope.  “I'll be more than happy to help you. Me and Grandpa.” “Grandpa?”  Naomi asked. “Grandpa Fred.  My father's father.”  Judy chirped.  “He takes care of my sister.  Tressa's mother.” Naomi went quiet for a bit.  “Do guardian angels always guard their families?” “Not always.“  Judy bit her bottom lip.  “Grandpa was guarded by great-grandpa's old army buddy.  Angels can wind up guarding anyone.” “How...”  Naomi started and gave up, defeated. “It's all new and shocking, now.“  Judy encouraged  “Give yourself time.  You'll feel better, soon.” “If you say so.”  Naomi stated. “Time,”  Judy intoned, patting Naomi on the back.  “It'll get better and eventually, someday, you'll be ready to take care of someone yourself.  You'll see.”   Judy got up from the bench to follow Tressa, as she wandered down the hall.  Naomi rose, shuffling along after her.  By the end of the day, she was still miserable.   Joining Tressa on her bus, Judy sensed Naomi's mood.  “Maybe you'd like to give yourself a little makeover?” “Makeover?”  Naomi half-whispered. “If you close your eyes and concentrate, you can make yourself appear older, more mature.”  Judy explained.  “Like you would look if you had lived to adulthood.” Naomi stared past Judy. “Give it a try,”  Judy chirped.  “You don't want to look like a scrawny, awkward, teenager, forever, do you?” Naomi sighed resignation.  She closed her eyes.  Forcing herself to focus, she imagined herself older.  Like if she was in her mid-twenties instead of her mid-teens.   “Very nice.”  Judy crooned after a few minutes. Naomi opened her eyes.  Still blah.  She glanced in the mirror above the bus driver.  “Huh.”  She mused,  “I look a little like my mom.” “Feel better?”  Judy asked.   Naomi paused.  “A little,” she admitted.   “You'll be okay, honey.”  Judy smiled. After a short ride, Naomi and Judy departed the bus at Tressa's stop.  Tressa slung her bag over her shoulder, hopped down the steps, landing with both feet on the pavement below.  Judy and Naomi descended the bus with a little more dignity.  From there, Tressa walked to her apartment with her head down and her hand in her pocket, fumbling for the right key.  Naomi couldn’t keep herself from chuckling at the odd way Tressa moved and walked.  It was as if the girl were in a world of her own.   Naomi couldn't help but laugh at the antics of the girl.  Suddenly, she stood face to face with heavy steel. “HEY!”  Naomi pounded on the door. “Not a problem.”  Judy took Naomi’s hand and passed through the door.  “A locked door is no problem for us.” “Oh.”  Naomi mumbled, then blushed.   “MOM, I’M HOME!“  Tressa entered her apartment and dropped her bag on the floor.   Not hearing an answer, Tressa found a note and some money on the kitchen table.  Tressa shrugged, tossing the note out.  Tressa grabbed a can.  She left the money for her mom to reclaim later.  Then, she started her homework. Naomi was surprised at the speed with which Tressa worked.  “It used to take me forever to do all my work.   How does she do it?” “Tressa has an odd mind.”  Judy explained.  “Most of what she writes down for notes and in class, she remembers.  So, she doesn’t bother too much with the textbook.” Tressa turned on the TV and sacked-out on the couch. Naomi and Judy joined her,.  “So, is there anything else for us to do, besides hanging with the person we’re supposed to take care of?” “Not really.”  Judy replied.  “It’s pretty boring being dead.” “Is there anyway we can interact or communicate with Tress?”  Naomi wondered aloud “To a certain degree,”  Judy commented,“ if the person you're taking care of is really sensitive, we can leave some impressions.  You've heard of instinct?” Naomi nodded.   The front door opened,  Tressa’s mother entered the apartment, followed by a middle-aged gentleman with a paunch and bib overalls.  While Tressa and her mother greeted one another, Judy ran over to her grandfather, and gave the man a big hug.  Naomi hung back, fidgeting. “Grandpa!”  Judy exclaimed.   “SPROUT!”  Judy’s grandfather returned her hug, then, he noticed Naomi.  He straightened his posture,  then took his big, floppy, straw hat into his hands, and ran hand through his salt and pepper hair.  “Ma’am.” “Hi, I’m Naomi.”   Naomi extended her hand towards the man. “Nice to meet you.” Fred wiped his hand on the front of his coveralls before shaking hands with Naomi.   “Name’s Fred.” “I met Judy at Tressa’s school.  I was student there.”  Naomi explained. Fred nodded.  “I understand.  Has Judy been helping you out?  Explaining everything?” “Yes, Judy was very kind and helpful, sir.” Naomi answered.  “I don’t think I could have made it without her.” “That's a good girl.”  Fred beamed at Judy.  “You do not have to call me sir ma'am. Call me Fred, miss.” “Sure.”  Naomi returned Fred's infectious smile.  “Call me Naomi.”   Naomi studied the man before her.  He had the appearance and subtle accent of an early 20th century midwestern farmer, yet not as old as she expected him to be.  “E-excuse me s-, I mean, Fred,”  Naomi tried,“ if you're Judy's grandfather, shouldn't you be older?” “Didn't Judy explained the age trick?”  Fred’s eyes twinkled at Naomi's nod.  He replaced his hat.  “It works for us old folks, too.”  He brushed his knuckles along his temple, careful not to knock off his hat.  “How do I look, Naomi?” “Fine, Fred.“  Naomi blushed.  “I was a little upset when I found out I had died.” “Everybody is.”  Fred grinned.  “You should have seen Judy.  She was crying like a baby.” “I was a baby, Grandpa.”  Judy chuckled.  “He loves telling that joke.”   Naomi joined in on the laugh with Fred and Judy.   “I was stillborn,”  Judy explained, staring off into the distance.  “Mom developed, something called, preeclampsia .”  Judy looked down.  “Neither Mom nor me were the same afterwards.” “Did Judy tell you about finding your own person to guard, Naomi?”  Fred changed the subject.   Naomi shook her head, grateful to leave Judy to her sad memory. “Basically,”  Fred began,“ every person is on a journey; a path they could follow.  Other people pass by or cross that path.  Doctors, teachers, fellow students, co-workers, passersby on the street.  A person could come into contact with countless people as they go through life.” Naomi nods, considering. “At some point,”  Fred continued, “while you and Judy are working together to take care of Tressa, she will come into contact with someone that needs you as their angel.  When that time comes, you'll go off with that person, leaving Judy and Tressa.” “How will I know, if I'll supposed to go with somebody.”  Naomi asked. “It's difficult to explain,”  Fred affirmed.  “You'll know.  Trust.  Judy will help.  And I will, too, for as long as I can.” “For as long as you can?”  Naomi was confused. Fred nodded.  “I am responsible for Tressa's mother.  Tressa is a child.  Tressa will grow up, move away,  live her own life.  When that happens, you and Judy will go with her, but I will have to stay.” Naomi frowned. “But...” “That's the way it is.”  Fred shrugged.  “You'll be okay.  It won't be forever.  Tressa , in her adult age, will visit her mother.  When she visits, we can visit.” “Mmmm,” Naomi grunted, understanding. “And then,” Fred reminded,“ when Tressa and you meet the person you are to take care of, you'll go off to take care of them.” Naomi nodded, solemnly.  It was overwhelming, a lot to take in.  She elected to let the information sit.  Whatever happens, will happen.  She'll trust and have faith.  She'll figure it out.   For the moment, she was grateful to have Fred and Judy around.  Naomi doubted that she could do this if she was alone.  She managed a ghost of a smile, her thoughts drifting. ~~~~ As Tressa  matured, the camaraderie between the three guardian angels had grown.  When they weren’t protecting Tressa or her mother they would keep themselves entertained.  Fred would share stories and slyly inappropriate jokes.  Judy would sing; Naomi would dance.  Naomi felt like one of the family.  She regarded  Fred as grandpa and Judy as auntie.  It was as if she had always belonged.   One day, Tressa was an adult and found herself with a job and a place all her own.  She was collecting the last of her things from her old home.  Her mother stood by watching, a wadded tissue in her hands.  Both mother and child reassured each other that things would be all right.  Tressa promised to visit; her mother promised Tressa  she would always have a home with her.  Unseen by the living, the dead were sharing farewells of their own.   Tears fell.  Embraces tightened.  Judy and Naomi each gave Fred a kiss on either side of his face.  None wanted to part; yet, that always happens when children grow up.  Fred honked his nose into a red hankie with white polka-dots, then clapped the girls on their shoulders.  “You’d better go,” his gravel voice, said.  “You don’t want to lose track of Tressa.” “We won’t lose her, Grandpa.”  Judy reassured. Naomi dabbed her eyes with her sleeve.  “I don’t want to go.” “I know, baby-girl.“  Fred patted Naomi on the shoulder.  “But you’ll be okay.  You’re both fine, smart girls.  You’ll be fine.  Besides, this goodbye may not be forever.” Naomi hugged Fred.  “Hmmm.”  She whined. “Chin up.”  Fred said.  “Tressa will come back to visit her mother.  When they visit, we’ll visit.” “That’s right.”  Judy joined Naomi in hugging Fred. Tressa climbed into her car, starting it.  Judy and Naomi, reluctantly, released Fred, and crammed themselves into the vehicle alongside Tressa’s stuff.  The girls hung out the window, waving, as they drove away.  “Hope to see you soon, Grandpa!”   “Good luck, girls!”  Fred returned the wave.  “And trust God!” ~~~~ Tressa was speeding towards work.  Judy and Naomi were in the backseat.  All were anxious and tense. “Why didn’t you remind her to set her alarm?!”  Judy hissed. “I can only do so much!”  Naomi spit back.  “She’s so scatterbrained to begin with, it’s hard to get the right frequency to reach her.” Judy scanned the vista.  “I just hope we don’t run into a - -” A siren sounds.  Tressa checks her rear view mirror, curses, and pulls the car over. “Cop.”  Both angels buried their faces in their hands. “Maybe we can beat the ticket.”  Naomi sounded more hopeful than she was. “Unlikely,” Judy responded.  “We were really flying.  I hope she doesn’t lose her job over the ticket.” “Yeah.”  Naomi nodded.  “Last time she got a ticket, her boss said that if she got any more points on her license, she’d be fired.” The angels quieted, watching Tressa roll down her window to talk to the officer. “License, proof of insurance, and registration, ma’am.”  The cop stated. “Y-yes, sir,”  Tressa whimpered.  “It’s all in my glove box.” Tressa watched the cop nod, then reached for the information.  With all documents in hand, the officer walked back to his vehicle.  Tressa took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “She really hates the idea of being in trouble, doesn't she?”  commented Naomi. “Been that way all her life.,”  replied Judy.  “If her parents called her or if she'd been sent to the principal’s office she'd blow the situation up in her mind.  She’d be terrified.  Fear kept her from a lot of things.” Naomi blinked.  “Why’s she so scared?” Judy shrugged an answer.  The angels watched, anxious, as the policeman made his slow walk back to Tressa's window,.  All three of the girls had their fingers crossed and all their faces fell, when a ticket was included in the documents. Tressa smiled, crookedly. “Thank you, sir.”  She tossed the papers onto her passenger seat, put the car in gear, and drove away at a much slower speed. “But why?”  Naomi still didn’t understand.  “The worst that could happen here is she gets a ticket.” “You and I know that,”  Judy said.  “But in Tressa’s mind, she’s getting a ticket, being arrested, taken to jail, facing a judge, and being sentenced to life in prison.” “What’s that?”  Naomi noticed some writing on the back of the ticket.  She manipulated the wind to turn the ticket over.  “Traffic School…” “Traffic school?”  Judy peered over Naomi’s shoulder to read.  “If Tressa attends traffic school, she can remove points from her license.” “Mmm.“  Naomi nodded, glancing toward Tressa’s intent expression.  “The paper’s in a good position for her to see it when she stops and picks it up.” “Mmm-hmm.”  Judy agreed.  “She needs to read this.” Tressa parked and ran, on foot, into her job.  Five minutes later, she reappeared, face red, head down, and tears streaming down her cheeks. Judy frowned. “Not good.” “At least they didn’t fire her.”  Naomi said. “Yes.”  Judy agreed.  “It was considered a no call/no show.  She can’t do that anymore.” Tressa bent to get back into her car and Judy tapped the upside down speeding ticket laying on the seat.  Tressa noticed the paper.  She picked it up, read it, flipped it over, and came to a decision.  “Traffic School…”  she murmured.   Traffic School was basically a condensed version of Driver’s Education.  It  takes place over the course of a single day.  They go over the Rules of the Road, administer written and driving tests. Any violations get either wiped completely from a driver’s record or lessened.  There was a fee for the course, but the cost would be the same as if she paid the ticket outright.   Tressa drove home to call the number on the back of the ticket to get directions and a schedule for the next session of the Traffic School.  The next class day was two days away, on payday.  Tressa decided to go for the class and swung by  the Department of Motor Vehicles to pick up the class book. Until the day of traffic School, Naomi and Judy focused hard, to make sure Tressa studied.  Most of the time, Tressa was reliable.  But she could get easily distracted.  With her, Judy and Naomi had to keep on their toes. Finally, the day of Traffic School arrived and a miracle occurred.   She awoke bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, a half hour before her alarm.  Judy and Naomi were flabbergasted.  Even the drive to the school went smooth.  (Tressa can get so unsure of herself, she becomes daffy with directions, getting lost easily).  The only explanation Judy and Naomi could come up with:  something special was about to happen.  They decided to sit back, and watch what happens next. Tressa arrived at the class early.  She wanted the seat closest to the door,.  However, there was already someone else there.  Something about this person seemed interesting to both Tressa and Naomi.  Judy noticed, but didn’t think anything of it.  It was rare for Tressa to seek friendship.  When she felt compelled to make a new friend, if Judy didn’t feel any danger, she encouraged it.  Judy assumed Naomi was interested, because Tressa was.  Either way, she let the encounter happen. “Hi.”  Tressa was polite.  Tressa would never think or say that someone was strange, since Tressa had been teased so much about being weird.  Still, the person before her was unique:  clearly female, but her style was very masculine.  Tressa took an immediate liking to the strange girl.   “Sup”came the reply. Both Judy and Tressa leaned in.  “I don’t get this guy,.”  Judy mused to Naomi. “Girl.”  Naomi stated. “Girl?“  Judy blinked at Naomi.  “How can you tell?  It looks like a man.” “I don’t know,”  Naomi remained firm, “but that’s a girl.” “My name’s Tressa.”  Tressa smiled.  Guy or girl, it didn't matter.  This person was interesting.  That was all Tressa cared about.  Tressa knew they would be friends. “Frieda.”  The girl introduced herself. Naomi grinned with pride.  “Told ya.”  Naomi taunted. “So you did.”  Judy rolled her eyes.  “What else do you know about her?” “Hard to tell.”  Naomi wrinkled her brow.  “Something about her makes me sad.  She’s been through a lot and hasn’t really had anyone there to help or do anything or keep her safe.” “What do you mean?”  Judy puzzled. “I…”  Naomi frowned at the floor.  “I think I might go with her at the end of Traffic School.” Judy’s jaw dropped, then she set it, again.  “If you’re sure.” “Yeah.”  Naomi wiped a tear from her eye.  “I’m sorry, but I am sure.” “You have nothing to be sorry about.”  Judy put an arm around Naomi.  “You have to go where you have to go.  It’s okay.  I understand.” “Thank you.“  Naomi returned Judy’s hug.  “I’m going to miss you.” “I know.”  Judy patted Naomi on the shoulder, then noticed the way Tressa and Frieda were interacting.  “Maybe you won’t miss me too much.” “What do you mean?”  Naomi wiped her eyes on her sleeve. Judy pointed. “They seem to like each other.  Maybe they'll hang out and be friends.”   It was Naomi’s turn for her jaw to hang open.  “Has Tressa ever reacted like that with anyone else?” Judy shook her head.  “Not that I’ve seen.  Tressa’s always been shy.  She’s never the first person to greet someone new.” “Look at that!“  Naomi beamed when she saw Tressa and Frieda exchange numbers, email, and addresses.   “I can see.”  Judy squealed in delight.  Her hopes were lifting.  Judy hoped she wasn't fooling herself. Something in her said that she was seeing magic happen.  She had grown with Naomi.  It was bittersweet to say goodbye. When Frieda got up at the end of class, Naomi, Tressa, and Judy joined her.  When the four girls reached the parking lot,  the living and the dead shared hugs.  The living shared new friendship and joy.  The dead expressed farewell and sorrow.   The four parted and separated into couples, both going their own ways. Everyone needs help, sometimes.  There are angels; enough guardian angels for all the blades of grass in the world.