#i did in fact fail my test by four questions

[inspiredsimmerx]

wip

[charlie-lec-stories]

A lovely mess // CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character

Summary: Four times Charles overreacted to becoming a father and one he actually failed to react. Or Charles being a mess through the best and most scary adventure of his life.

Warnings: None, this is pure wholesomeness.

Author’s Note: This one was inspired by some stories my own dad and uncle told me about the times they had their first children. Yes, some of those stories are based on things my father did when him and my mom were expecting me hahahaha. Rate: PG

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Every man reacts differently to pregnancy, but the most common response is just simply becoming a mess of a human being. And because of that, Charles, for once in his life, could be considerer an average man. He had been exceptional his whole life: excellent student at school, talented in arts, languages and sports, remarkable people skills and loved by everyone. People assumed that he was going to be an exceptional father too, and he knew he was committed to the role since day one, but none of that made the experience less scary. The monegasque had always want kids, he had always pictured himself growing old with a woman he loved and raising a bunch of little humans. When he knocked up his girlfriend he was definitely not planning on becoming a father so soon in his life, but he was happy nonetheless. His history with his girlfriend was kind of complicated too, her family didn't like him much, or more precisely the fact that Charles' job made her travel around the globe, away from her family all the time. He knew that he loved her more than he had ever loved anyone in his life, he knew that every time he pictured himself in the future, that future was shared with her, but it would be a lie if he'd say that the pregnancy didn't complicate things. His in-laws weren't too happy when they found out and Charles' mother was kind of worried about the whole situation. But Charles and his girl loved that little "accident" more than life itself and they actually never cared too much about anyone else's opinions. He convinced his girlfriend to move in with him and she also agreed on keep traveling with him until she ultimately had to stay home for the baby's safety.

"Is six weeks really that bad, Amour? I mean, maybe you're jet lagged or something". Charles nervously wondered from sitting at the bottom of the bed, his girl anxiously pacing around the room.

"That's not how periods work, Charlie". She was trying to stay calm and not bark at him, but that was a difficult task.

"Then let's buy a test and find out". He got up and started walking to the door when she grabbed his arm.

"Wait! You can't just go to a pharmacy and buy a test!". She looked at him like he was insane.

"Why not?". If there was someone humble enough to always forget he's rich and famous, that was Charles.

"Because you're Charles fucking Leclerc, that's why!". She let go of his arm and ran her hand down her face, exasperated. "The press is going to have a field day if you do that".

"Shit, you're right". He sighed and his shoulders sunk. He could see her shaking, scared and stressed and all he wanted to do was give her answers so she could get some peace of mind. "I'm sorry, Amour, I just don't know what to do".

"Let's call Lorenzo, maybe Charlotte can buy it for us".

He watched her take care of everything: call his brother, open the door for him and Charlotte, explain the situation, decide over test brands with his sister in law, drink loads of water, all while he sat on the couch, his mind running faster than he had ever drove his Ferrari. How could she think so clearly even with how scared she was? What would he do if the test was positive? What if she didn't want to keep the baby? Why was he feeling so sad with the mere idea of the test turning up negative? Was he really ready to be a father? There were so many questions and so little answers. He could hear Charlotte walk out the door and his girlfriend go their room, he clearly felt his older brother sit by his side on the couch, but he just couldn't move. Lorenzo said something Charles never caught, too drown inside his own head.

"I really want this baby, Enzo". Was all he let out and his brother just squeezed his shoulder.

Charlotte came back pretty fast, a paper bag with at least five different tests for his girl to do. The older woman explained the younger which ones were more effective so they could compare the results later. The possible future mother lock herself into the bathroom while the other three waited outside. Charles felt like he waited for an eternity before she came out with the five little white sticks. She placed them over a napkin on the coffee table and Lorenzo set the timer. Now, they had to wait again. She was sitting on the same couch he was before, looking at everything but the tests in front of her, so he sat down and took her hand in his, hoping for the contact to be enough to ease her thoughts. He wasn't exactly the epitome of calmness and the sweat that covered his hand made it hard to grip at. She looked at him and smiled, she knew that he was going to be there for them, no matter what, but she was still scared of what he would think, she still needed to know if he really wanted this. Still, she refrained from asking and simply rested her head on his shoulder, searching for comfort on his scent. She had her eyes closed when she suddenly flew to the other side of the couch while Charles' loud yelp filled her ears.

"What the fuck was that?". She looked around, trying to find what could have startled him so much to trow her like that, but all she could see was Charles clumsily trying to grab one of the tests while his feet barely kept him up. She had never seen him so uncoordinated in the two years they had been together. His fingers had a mind of their own and his legs were trembling.

"Two lines, this one has two lines". Charles, who had been quiet and petrified for the past hour, was mumbling like a madman as he showed his brother one of the tests. In the background, the alarm set by Lorenzo started ringing and they all looked down at the coffee table, searching for the lines of truth. Charles grabbed the the tests smiling wide as he showed them to the others. "THEY ALL HAVE TWO LINES". He was hyperventilating, his whole body shaking and Lorenzo couldn't help but let out his loudest laugh as he watched his younger brother loose the little bits of sanity he had. "CAN YOU SEE IT, BABY?!". He shoved the sticks into his girlfriend's face. "It's a baby! We made a baby! Putain de merde! I'm going to be a Papa!".

"Yes, Charlie! I see it!". She said sharing his enthusiasm. But then she saw him go pale really fast. He walked backwards a few steps and Lorenzo caught him from behind before he could fall butt first on the ground.

"Okay, I think you need to process this rollercoaster of emotions while sitting on the couch, Cha". The older Leclerc helped his bother to sit down next to the now confirmed future mama. There, Charles took her hand and smiled, a high-like expression covering his eyes. He may be scared, but he had never been happier.

If Charles' reaction to the pregnancy was that chaotic, it was a sure thing that the following nine months would be as well. Before the first trimester was up, he had already brought another house to move to, where the baby could have their own room and a playroom. He brought every piece of Ferrari merchandizing he could find on the internet, he didn't even care if it was original or not. Was it pretty? Yes. Was it Ferrari? Yes. Then he was buying it. His girlfriend even went to the extent of taking away his cards and threatened with getting rid of wifi to make him stop. He didn't, took her extension in the middle of the night and kept binge-shopping for his baby at 4 am. He brought furniture for the bedroom and the playroom, and then he found his biggest rival till the day. A rival he wanted to beat more than Max Verstappen: a crib. She wasn't even showing and he was already putting a crib together, or let's rephrase it, fighting with the crib and losing pathetically.

"Cela n'a aucun sens". (This makes no sense). He complained while he tried to attach what was supposed to be 'Part B' to 'Part 3.1'. Why there was a part 3.1, he didn't know and was too stress out to try and figure it out. He growled, he literally growled when the whole crib came crushing down in front of him. "Je déteste cette merde". (I hate this shit).

"Charlie? What's wrong? I heard a loud noise". He looked at the mother of his child and all he could feel was embarrassment. "Are you alright?".

"Yes. I'm fine". He answered from the floor, looking at his lap. He wanted to cry, but he also didn't want to upset her.

"Hey, you know you can tell me anything, right?". She sat next to him on the floor and searched for his eyes, but he kept looking away from her. "What is it, Charles?".

"I-". He tried to start talking, but he was cut off by his own sob. She quickly made him turn towards her, looking for injuries, but he seemed to be physically fine. She saw the tears running down his face and did the best she could to wipe the away. Moving to sit on his lap, she threw her arms around his neck and pressed herself flat against him, trying to get as close as she could. He cried on her shoulder, soaking her his hoodie and crushing her with his arms around her waist. They stayed like that for a while, until Charles stopped crying. She scratched his head to calm him down and after some time, he did. In a painfully soft whisper, he admitted his fear to her. "I'm going to be a terrible Papa".

"Don't say that. We both know that's not true". Shushing him, she pulled away and grabbed his face, forcing him to look at her. "Is this about the crib?".

"I've been fighting this crib for four days. Our baby is going to sleep on the floor and it's all my fault". She laughed and for a moment, she regretted it, seeing the hurt in his eyes. She calmed down and pecked his lips.

"Charlie, our baby has barely formed their ears yet, you have more than enough time to figure this out". He didn't look convinced at all.

"But what if I don't?". She smiled at him.

"I know you will. Do you want to know why?". He nodded and she ran her fingers through his hair to move it away from his face, so they could look into each others eyes and make him believe her. "Because you already are the best Papa in the world, Charles".

He won against the crib just in time to catch up with the worst part of the cravings period. They were into the fourth month of pregnancy and the little bump was proudly starting to show. Charles couldn't keep his hands away from it. He was constantly touching the bump, kissing the bump, talking to the bump, even scolding the bump whenever he saw some discomfort tinting his girlfriend's face. In the paddock he practically forced her to go everywhere with him and on interviews he answered every question while looking at her. He insisted on people staying at least ten centimeters away from her and he even took upon himself the task of preparing every meal she ate, just to make sure that it was safe and she didn't get food poisoned. He checked places' and foods' temperatures, chairs' and couches' safety, if her shoes were properly tied (at least 20 times a day), the only thing missing was him wrapping her on bobble wrapping. He safety proofed the every hotel room they stayed in so she wouldn't 'accidentally hit the bump against unknown furniture in the dark'. At some point, she had to put a stop to the madness, specially when Charles' newly-daddy paranoia messed with her cravings.

"Amour, what are you eating?". He asked when he caught her hiding with Lando and Max behind the Red Bull garage, a massive greasy half eaten hot dog on her hands. Lando was opening a mayonnaise sachet with his teeth and Max was feeding her french fries with his bare hands, all three of them sitting on the floor. It wasn't exactly the most sanitary situation, but the fuzzy feeling she felt inside her chest thanks to that hot dog made it all worth it. Charles could swear he had an aneurysm just by the sight of it all. "Where did you get that?".

"Uhm...". Her and Lando looked at Max, waiting for him to answer, since he was the one who brought it.

"Well... It's from a professional, I can assure you that, Charles". The monegasque frowned and Max swallowed, scared, just to find out his mouth was completely dry. He wasn't an easily scared guy, but something about Charles' over-protective-dad mood just terrified him.

"And where's the professional's place? Can you show me?". Max, still sitting on the floor, looked at everything but Charles.

"Oh, you see-".

"It's from the stand outside of the paddock". Lando blurted out, followed by him covering his mouth with both his hands and the three of them heard Charles growl.

"Max did you just feed my pregnant girlfriend a hot dog from a dirty street-stand? YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW IF THE PERSON WASHES THEIR HANDS-"

"They definitely don't, I mean, they don't have where to".

"Lando, you're not helping me, mate". Max advised, not moving his eyes from the fuming Charles above him. Then the pregnant girl decided to intervene.

"Charlie, babe, it's okay. I asked him to buy it for me". Charles then looked at her, his gaze softening a little, but still angry.

"Amour, you know that's not good for you". He walked to her and hooked his arms under hers to help her off the floor.

"But the baby wanted it". Max still followed Charles, afraid of what the future father could do to him for messing with his unborn baby's diet. Lando stayed very still, hoping to make himself invisible. "I was just craving this so bad! And you never let me have this type of food. The baby is fine, I promise".

"Don't do that face, it's not fair". He complained when she gave him her best puppy eyes. She didn't stop, and he finally dropped the attitude. "Okay, maybe we can make some room for a hot dog once in a while. But you have to keep eating healthy, we don't want the little Tifosi to come out malnourished".

"Yay!". She squealed and hugged him tight, the hot dog almost falling from her hand. Charles hugged her back and then directed his gaze towards the other two drivers.

"And you two". Max and Lando looked at him wide-eyed. "This better be the last time you pull off something like this. Did I make myself clear?".

"Yes, sir". Both said at the same time and got up from the floor.

"Okay, go on. And think about what you did". They nodded their heads, Max handing the girl the fries and then walking away with Lando.

"I like you daddy-voice". Charles shrugged at her comment.

"Amour, don't call it that or I won't be able to use it without laughing".

Charles' paranoia got better. He calmed down a little, but then the fear of being a bad father came back. Around the seventh month, already knowing they were having a boy, Charles found himself with insomniac. At the beginning of the pregnancy he was scared of not knowing what to do to take care of a baby's basic needs: bottle feed, change diapers, help him to sleep, and things like that. But as the date of the delivery got closer, Charles' fears shifted to the more existential type. What if he was unable to guide his son through life? What if he failed on teaching him good values and a strong sense of ethics? What if he ended up raising a spoiled kid, arrogant and narcissistic? What if he couldn't make his boy happy? What if his kid hated him? Those questions kept him up at night, turning over and over on the bed, and cold sweat covering his body. He would walk to the baby's room and look at the painting his girlfriend did on the walls, the name 'Jules' written on lilac on a clear sky, over the race track so carefully crafted. What if his son didn't want to race cars? What if he was forcing him to do so when he wasn't even born? Sitting on the rocking chair, he would look out the window, the yachts at the bay clearly visible from there. What if his son didn't like Monaco? What if his son would rather adopt his mother's nationality and culture over his? The dark sky adorned with shinny little dots would look back at him without answers.

"Charlie? Why are you up, love?". He heard his girl's sleepy voice call out to him from the doorway. He smiled at her, his eyes glossy as he fought the tears that wanted to escape.

"Just thinking, Amour. Don't worry". He gave her his best smile, but she could read his real feelings underneath it. "Go back to bed, I'll join you in a minute".

"I think we love each other enough to cut the bullshit, babe". She walked further into the room and stopped in front of him, her big belly at his face's height, and he couldn't help but reach forward and kiss it. "What is it?"

"It's... it's just a lot and it's late. Don't worry, really-"

"Charles, I'm not sleeping until I'm convinced that you're alright". He sighed, and pulled her to his lap. The weight was a little bit more than what he was used to, but he loved that, it made it impossible for him to overlook the fact that his baby was there, with them. He made her rest her back against his chest and rocked he chair, hugging her tight against him and resting his chin over her shoulder. They both looked out of the window and she patiently waited for him to tell her what was going on inside his mind.

"I'm scared. I feel this huge responsibility over Jules". She smiled, loving whenever they talked about their baby using the name they choose for him. "I just want to be a good Papa, but I'm so scared of messing up, of making the wrong choices, of using the wrong words, of leading him in the wrong direction. What if I don't raise him right? If I'm not a good role model?"

"Well, you're not alone in this, Charlie, I'm with you till the end of the line. Like Bucky and Steve. I know that we'll be alright. I just know it". She sounded so sure of herself. He wished he could be that sure about everything.

"How do you do it? How do you manage to always be so sure and composed?". She laughed and he felt the baby kick under his palm, he always kicked when she laughed.

"I've been the least composed person and you know it, Charlie! I break down crying at least five times a day. You've seen that! You're the one who comforts me every time". He laughed softly, that was true, those had been some pretty crazy seven months. A true rollercoaster of emotions. And they still had two more months to go. "I know that we'll be alright because we're already asking ourselves these questions. Because we care about Jules so much that we truly take time to think things through. We are going to be alright because we love our baby and we both know we will always do the best we can for him. We won't let the bad choices from our parents be repeated and we'll make sure to copy the best from them to give to Jules. That's why I'm so sure". She turned to look at him for a moment. "I trust you to be the dad of my baby because I know how great of a human being you are, Charles".

"I love you". He said, feeling a lot better. He kissed her tenderly, and then another kick was felt under his hand. "Thanks for being here for me, Amour".

"Always, just as you had always been for me". She nuzzled her nose against his. Another kick and they both laughed. "Let's go back to bed, Papa".

The two months passed by in a blink. Charles asked Ferrari to give him a leave of absence for the first two races of the season. He wanted to be world champion, but he would rather be there when his son was born. Ferrari let him take his time, but Jules decided to be born at eight and a half months. It seemed like he couldn't wait to meet his parents, because everything happened so fast that Charles had barely had any time to react. They were having lunch at his mother's house, and he was having the best time. His girl looked amazing, all radiant and happy, her belly covered by a cute but comfortable dress, his sisters in law both touching the belly and fighting for godmother duties. Lorenzo and Charlotte were definitely the chosen ones, but they hadn't tell anyone yet, after all both Lorenzo and Charlotte were there for them when they needed them. His mother was showing him little clothes that she had crocheted for Jules and his brothers discussing which one was going to be the 'responsible uncle' and who the 'funcle'. Arthur was definitely unable to be the responsible one, so he was already chosen to be the 'funcle'. Every conversation was cut short when the faint voice of the future mama rang through the air.

"Charlie". Her shaken voice called out, and he turned around to see what she needed. There was a wet patch under her and she was grabbing her belly, a painful expression on her face. "I think my water broke".

"The baby is coming!". Arthur shouted excitedly, but Charles' brain just stopped functioning. He saw everyone running around to grab things, Charlotte and Carla helping his girl out of the house and towards his car, Lorenzo grabbing the baby bag the carried around just in case since the beginning of the last trimester, Arthur pushing him outside and his mother speaking, but he just couldn't move. H was petrified. He felt like his blood pressure had dropped in a second and if it wasn't for Arthur behind him, he would have certainly fallen to the ground. His mother took his car keys out of his pocket and then they pushed him on the back seat, next to his girlfriend. Her hand crushing his brought him back from his outer-body state and he was able to react, turning to face her and running his other hand down her arm, doing his best to sooth her.

"It's okay, mon amour. Breath, breath with me". He instructed her and he started to exaggerate his breathing so she could copy her. She did and that calmed her down enough to count the seconds between one contraction and the next. "That's it, Amour, you're doing so good". He praised her and she smiled a little, her happy expression cut short by another waive of pain. She screamed and cried, sweat covering her forehead and running down her face, mixing with her tears. It was probably the most messy she had ever looked, but he had never seen her as beautiful as in that moment. "I love you so much". He whispered it, but by the squeeze she gave to his hand, he knew for sure she was saying it back. "We're almost there, hung on a little longer".

He almost carried her out of the car and into the hospital the second Arthur parked the car. Then, they found out that she was ready to deliver in that second. Jules didn't want them to keep him waiting, she was brought to the delivery room and Charles was given surgical gown so he could join her. Inside, the whole process was quick, in 30 minutes, Jules was crying on the doctors arms and Charles could feel his heart skip a beat. Wrapped on towel and with the small hat they had for him on, Jules was passed on to his mother, who took him instantly while she cried her eyes out. Charles, still on delay with reality, was trying to process the information. That was his baby, he was finally there, he could finally touch him. The doctor walked to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, Charles couldn't stop looking at his girl and little Jules. He heard a softly "go ahead, meet your boy", and that was enough for him to place a shaking and gentle hand on Jules' head. He ran his thumb over the soft little cheek and the tears started to fall. He felt his girl's hand wipe away his tears and heard her laugh softly. She just found funny that after overreacting about every little thing for the past eight months, Charles was barely able to react that day. He was a mess in that moment, but he was the perfect mess in her eyes. The most extraordinary mess. He finally smiled and reached down to kiss her head, then he looked at Jules.

"I am your Papa, Jules. I love you. I'm so happy to finally meet you".

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I hope you guys liked this one!

[just-an-enby-lemon]

Another one of my silly Epic headcannons is that Athena was also training baby Diomedes while she was training baby Ody.

Now while she helped heros Athena tended to try to not be at all involved with them. She even chose a champion but kept her distance. That is until her champion just decided to eat a guys brain.

She decided that not only she needed a new champion she needed someone she could mold so they would met her standards and more importantly not comit canibalism in front of her for no reason. First move magic boar.

Except she got bored no one was solving her test and did a move that would have very different results when repeated and went check on Tydeus kid. Six years old Diomedes was smart, dedicated and thanks to being raised as a child soldier already really good with a spear. And she was like "oh perfect". Unlike Ody, Dio is shy and very awed/respectfull at first.

Less than a year later ten year old Odysseus solves her test (now Diomedes is sayed to be four when his dad died, I'm not making that one up, but Ody's age is very open, Epic implies he already had Athena when he became king at 13 so I'm going with 10, the boar was his Pokemon journey). So she now has two chances.

She never figths with Diomedes but they get distant for a bit. When she goes for Telemachus she is hoping for second Diomedes and instead she remembers that a) Ody is one of her kids at this point b) she actually likes Odysseus c) Ody didn't ate people. Besides 3 warriors are better than one. She soons recognizes she just has 3 mortal friends.

Before the Troyan War Dio and Ody were not friends, buddies, Diomedes gay awakening, and in fact didn't know about the other except via Athena weird questions. Some memorable moments:

- When Odysseus becames king and is overwhelmed by anxiety and sadness over his father condicion. Athena goes "Diomedes what humans do when their fathers go mad" and Dio is "my dad is dead" + "how do I deal with my human being sad and anxious and make sure he'll be a good king when he is a child?" "I'm literally nine"

- Athena fails to explain her worries about Diomedes fate as a kid soldier and instead Ody is fully convinced she wants him to invade Thebes and starts to get ready for when the order comes. "Okay, goddess, for real do you want me to invade Thebes or not?" and Athena is like "No, but hypotetically if it distressed you" "It does sound distressing" "How do I help a crying human" "Have you tried conforting them? Maybe offer a hug."

- Thanks to Odysseus Athena knows puberty is a big deal for humans. But unlike Ody, Dio does not have active and present parents to help. So Athena goes to older teen Ody "how did your parents give you the talk?" and Odysseus is fully dying of embarassmenet after the conversation is over but Athena now has enough notes to give a sort of decent talk to her other kid.

- The moment Diomedes turns 17 Athena is fully expecting another "pleasepleasepleaseplease help me with Penelope" situation so they have akwards "Do you want me to like wingman you" conversations for a bit. [When Diomedes actually starts liking someone it is Odysseus and Athena is just "you have bad taste good luck with that one" and very unhelpfull].

- After getting bad advice from Dionysus and trolling from Apollo, Athena finally goes to her other human to ask for help about not noticing her human was expecting + tiny baby in no armor. Diomedes got his talk from Athena and suddently realizes he actually has no idea how babies are born and has very weird conversations with his war friends.

- Athena is fully used to talking to her champions and not being heard by anyone else. This cauuses a small problem when she is trying to advice Odysseus about Iphigenia and Diomedes is fully "what are you talking about?" and that how the War Crimes (with Extra Lying) Trio is founded.

- Unrelated but after realizing Telemachus could think it really was a Tydeus situation except with forgiving Athena goes to Telemachus to assure him his dad was not a family-murdering cannibal. Telemachus knows Ody would never kill his family but he had never even considered his father and cannibal in the same sentence before and is very concerned over why Athena felt the sudden urge to promisse him his dad never ate people.

[weirdmorefics]

My Birdy Took Flight

A/N- I am aware I really need to write my asks and my Spencer Reid story but I am currently obsessed with Simon Riley okay!

Simon Riley x Sniper Reader

Readers pronouns- She/her

TW- Swearing, falling, injuries, and military inaccuracies but I mean it's COD and they have a zombie game so are going to attack them too? lol

Summary- Who knew the complete off-the-books mission would go off the rails and leave you with the worst rope burns of your life. The injuries however were not the scary part it was having to face Ghost and admit you fell out of the heli.

Word Count- 1991

This mission was completely off the books, asshole Shephard did not care at all that Kate had been taken hostage and would not send reinforcements for help. I've been working with Price and Kate since I was a recruit they are my family. There was no way I was leaving Kate to be killed. The plan was simple enough I stayed in the heli for overwatch while Price, Gaz, and Farah worked their way up the line. Things were going smoothly I've worked with Nik before he is one hell of a pilot. Things however took a turn for the worse an explosive hit the copter and I fucking fell out. I'm sure Nik and Captian thought I died for a moment but I was bloody hanging from the rope. I am lucky my sniper skills are still top-notch when I'm hanging upside down though I would prefer not to test it again. After that hiccup, we recovered Kate and she luckily had no physical injuries.

We returned to base that night and Price insisted I go to the med bay to get checked out. To quote his words, "You look like shit kid, get the hell to med bay before I drag you myself."

The medic rushed to treat me, but something told me that was Price's doing. They wanted to keep me here for observation due to my concussion from the explosion impact. I begged them not to I'd sleep way better in the barracks I hate the sanitary hospital smell, I even prefer the smell of gunpowder. The medic would not take no for an answer I wanted to fight them harder but they said they preferred my anger to Price's wrath. The medic left shortly after and would return sporadically to do random vital checks. At least I knew the concussion wasn't that bad as it didn't beckon me toward the darkness like other times. Though my raw skin kept me from finding any peace I honestly kind of miss the darkness. I spent the night tossing and turning the pain and clinical setting keeping sleep a far distance away from me.

The clock ticking was mocking me as I watched it hit four am. How are hospital settings supposed to help you heal when there is so much beeping and someone always coming into your room? Speaking of which I heard the door creak yet again didn't they just take my vitals ten minutes ago! I can't take this without thinking I launch the flat uncomfortable pillow at what I assumed would be the intern medic yet again only to lock eyes with Ghost looking as shocked as I did.

"That's one hell of a greeting darling," he says in his usual deep voice. My eyes are still wide with shock that I just hit my superior with a pillow but he takes this opportunity to speak again. "Heard you took flight today, Gaz was telling everyone."

I wince at the thought of everyone knowing I failed to hold on during the explosion and try to change the subject to avoid thinking about it, "Aren't you supposed to be on a mission with Soap?"

"Just got back. Johnny and Gaz are out celebrating," he responds.

"They are out celebrating at four am?" I question.

"You know Johnny no one can outdrink the Scott," he says like it's the most obvious thing the world.

"Well, why aren't you out there celebrating with them?"

"My birdy took flight and thought it only decent to check up on her," any other time I would have dwelled on the fact that he said 'my birdy' but he placed his hand on my welted ankle and I could not suppress the groan. His eyes quickly shift to concern and he rips the scratchy hospital blanket off me.

"Ghost!" I shout at him for having the audacity to rip the blanket off me. He has no right to barge in here and act like he's in charge, he may be the boss of me in the field but he is not my doctor and I do not care for showing off my nasty ass wounds to my team members.

He does not acknowledge my shout at him in the slightest instead his full attention is on my rope-burned ankles."What quack treated this," he growled.

"I'm fine," I try to yank my foot out of his grasp but he holds tighter.

"Yeah because the skin falling off your ankle looks spectacular," he says sarcastically.

"Wow you sure know how to treat a girl," I roll my eyes.

"Haven't heard any complaints," he says nonchalantly as if that innuendo wouldn't have Soap applauding.

"Seriously, it's fine. Go celebrate with the team," I assure.

"If you think I am letting you let your ankle get infected you are off your rocker. I am going to need names, sweetheart," he commands.

The nickname glides out of his mouth so easily it's as if he had said it a hundred times. I want to stay as calm and collected as him but I unfortunately stutter, "What names?" God, it's a good thing I'm a sniper and not a spy because I would be dead.

"Of the idiot docs who treated this," he speaks as if it's obvious.

I sigh, "It's not their fault... I didn't tell them. Price only knew about the concussion and I just wanted to get out of here as soon as possible."

"Ah so you're the idiot," he growls.

"Can you not be mean to me I did just fall out of a heli."

"Shut up you lived," he rolls his eyes, gently places my foot down, and turns to leave.

"Please don't take your anger out on the medics," I beg.

"Oh trust me darling I will be taking my anger out on you," he growls yet again.

I shiver, "Where are you going then?"

"To get some medical supplies for your dumbass. No one way I'm letting a medic treat you when you will just lie to them."

"What makes you think I won't lie to you?" I tease well aware that I am in no place to be teasing.

He chuckles an evil kind still it's one of the best I've heard, "Me and you both know you aren't capable of it."

He exits the room and I am unsure if I want to slap him or rip that mask off and kiss him... I am definitely incapable of either. I may be able to beat Soap, Gaz, and even Price on the mat but no one can best Ghost. I, unfortunately, hear him shouting at medics for a damn first aid kit... so much for him taking out his anger on me.

He returns rather quickly but does not speak as he meticulously places the first aid supplies by my bedside.

He pours some alcohol on my rope burn and I hiss loudly, "shit a little warning would be nice."

"You would have just fought harder. Need to clean the debris out who fuckin knows how old that rope was."

"Aw is Ghosty worried about me," I pout.

"Thought I told you and Johnny to stop calling me that, you want me to make this hurt worse than it already does?"

I roll my eyes at him and in response, he presses the gauze harder than necessary. "You asshole!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I can see his wicked smile through his balaclava.

"Yeah sure," I huff. "You know..." I smile mischievously. "This would go a lot faster if you just kissed it better."

"Oh really," I could hear the grin in his voice. I was expecting him to make some snide comment in return instead he finishes wrapping my ankle and lifts his mask to rest on the bridge of his nose.

I am sure my eyes widen to the size of saucers. I feel like a Victorian man seeing a woman's ankle. His grin widens it could only be compared to the Cheshire cat's smile. He gently lifts my ankle to his lips but does not stop there. He places delicate kisses all the way up to my thigh. I think I have officially stopped breathing. Then my heart decides to do the most embarrassing thing ever. It speeds up so atrociously fast that the monitors start beeping incredibly loud. That's it I have officially died there is no coming back my face is melting off from how flushed I am.

Ghost sits back and laughs and I mean properly laughs, I have never seen him like this. "This is a good look on you birdy all red and flustered, all for me too." He pulls his mask back down but I can still see the smile in his eyes.

"Shut up! I am a highly trained sought-after sniper, I don't get flustered!" I feel like that would have sounded better if I didn't stutter each word.

Ghost glances at my heart rate monitor, "Your heart says otherwise."

A medic comes in as the dumb machine won't stop beating, "Are you alright? You're looking quite flushed and your blood pressure is higher than it was when you first came in."

I swear I could see the smugness radiating off Ghost. God I want to strangle him.

"She's fine thanks to me," his eyes squint at me and I know he has a huge grin under that balaclava. He then turns to the medic, "Don't you know the 141 are notorious liars and the worst patients! Next time call me down here as soon as she is being treated."

The poor medic flinches at Ghost's rough voice and can barely whisper, "Yes, sir"

I mouth, 'I'm so sorry," to the medic he looks appreciative.

The medic flees as soon as my blood pressure normalizes. Ghost roughly throws his body onto the uncomfortable hospital chair and groans.

"What are you doing? Shouldn't you be going back to the barracks," I glance as he makes himself comfortable well as comfortable as one can be in a torn hospital chair.

"In a rush to get rid of me birdy?"

"Is that name going to become a thing," I roll my eyes.

"Only for me, if anyone else has the nerve to call you that I'll gut them," he replies.

"Even Johnny?"

"Especially Johnny," He grins.

I smile, "Seriously Ghost you should go sleep in your own bed that chair cannot be comfortable. I'd be in my bed if they would let me escape."

"I know you can't stand hospitals, I won't let you be sleepless and cranky alone."

"Fine, then at least share the bed with me, I forbid you from sleeping on that fifty-year-old chair."

"The fact that you think you can forbid me from doing anything sweetheart is laughable. Are you sure you want me to be over there might make your heart monitor scream again?" He makes his way over to the bed despite his words.

I roll my eyes, "I'll manage."

He lays on the small hospital bed and takes up ninety percent of it but I don't mind it because it doesn't smell like hand sanitizer and blood anymore it smells like him.

"Goodnight birdy," he kisses the top of my head and my heartrate monitor instantly starts beeping annoyingly again.

"Goddammit," I groan and he just laughs.

"You would make a terrible spy with all those emotions, you're lucky the red face works on you." he chuckles.

"You're just jealous of my amazing sniping abilities you must point out my flaws," I poke his chest.

"You ain't got no flaws birdy except the fact that you're stubborn as hell. Now go to sleep before I knock you out myself."

"Yes LT.," I fake salute him and he rolls his eyes.

Sleep comes so much faster in the med bay when you aren't alone, I wish falling asleep would always be this easy.

[hollybyrde]

Steddie | R: Explicit (for eventual smut) | WC:4541 | Ch 1/8 | AO3

Chapter 1: Ghost of Yesterday

Two days after they failed to defeat Vecna, after Max died and came back, after Eddie died—and didn’t. Two days after they were forced to leave his body behind in the Upside Down because everything had gone to shit, a bright yellow pizza delivery van that looked like it’d been through its own apocalypse pulled into the Wheeler's driveway.

Jonathan, Mike, Will, and El finally made it home to Hawkins with the help of a friend.

On day three, Max woke up. 

She’d have a long road to recovery, but the doctors seemed fairly confident she’d walk again. Though, no one could be sure how much of her eyesight would return, if any. The same day, in a twist no one saw coming, Joyce showed up, fresh off a plane from Alaska after escaping Russia—yes, Russia—with a miraculously alive and mostly well Jim Hopper. 

And four days after the world both did and then didn’t end, the ghost of Eddie Munson appeared in Steve’s living room.

The kids and older teens, including the newest member of the doomsday squad, Argyle, were having an off-the-books meeting. After everything they’d done and been through, the so-called ‘adults’ were attempting to pull their same old shit, trying to sideline the younger set for their own, supposed, safety. 

Steve sort-of agreed about Dustin and the others, they were still too young and had already lost so much, but if Hopper, Joyce, and whoever the hell else thought they were going to bench him? They had another think coming, and he was pretty sure Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan felt the same way too.

But, whether he agreed or not, what he wouldn’t do was stop the kids from helping to come up with a plan. Because damned if he knew what the hell they should do next. 

Dustin leaned forward from his spot on the couch wedged between Erica and Will, steepling his fingers together in front of him. “So let me test my understanding. You set him on fire, and shot him—multiple times. He fell out of a third story window, and he just went… poof? Vanished without a trace?”

There was a collective groan from the room, everyone except for Lucas and El who were at the hospital sitting with Max, and of course Dustin himself. 

Robin rolled her eyes. “Oh my god, yes, Dustin. How many times do we have to go over this?”

 “I’m just laying out the facts!” Dustin snapped back. “Clearly we got something wrong here. We underestimated Vecna, and by a lot.”

 “And how is repeating our obvious failure helpful?” Nancy asked, a little defensively. 

Steve understood the attitude, he'd also been wresting with his guilt since that fateful night.

“The scientific method!” Dustin answered with a bit of the same slightly forced cheerfulness he'd been displaying ever since Max woke up. He held up a hand, ticking each step off on his fingers as he spoke. “Question, research, hypothesis, experiment, data analysis, conclusion.” 

“I got a question—“ Erica pursed her lips, giving Dustin such intense side-eye Steve wondered if it was actually painful. “Why are you such a nerd?”

Dustin sighed, as though it were everyone else annoying him instead of the other way around. “The question is—if Vecna is just a guy with powers like El, how could he have survived this long in the Upside Down? What’s keeping him alive?”

Okay, fine. Attitude or not, Steve hadn’t really thought about it but maybe the kid had a point. 

“The hive mind!” Robin offered up.

“Possibly.” Dustin nodded to her. ”Probably. So, what does that tell us?”

Erica crossed her arms, leaning back heavily into the couch. “I don’t know Mr. Clarke, you wanna share your thoughts with the class?”

“I didn’t say I had all the answers.”

“That’s a first,” Robin mumbled. 

“I’m just trying to get us brainstorming here!”

A flutter of movement pulled Steve’s admittedly already drifting attention away from discussion at hand. Something in the corner, the air there shifting and bending strangely, a little like the way heat shimmers off a sun drenched black top. He watched through his periphery, not daring to actually turn his head to look as a familiar figure materialized there. 

Fuck.

Though he looked confused and disoriented at first, it wasn’t long before the long-haired apparition tried approaching one of them.

Steve swallowed hard, his throat growing painfully tight. He fought to keep his face neutral as the ghost raised a hand in front of Dustin's face, calling the boy's name loudly before moving on to Erica, then Nancy—and Steve panicked, knowing he had to do something before the figure tried the same with him. 

“Water,” he muttered, mainly to Robin as he rose and bumped her shoulder. She was the only one really paying attention to him anyway, while the others still argued the physics and limitations of the alternate dimension. 

Steve fled for the relative quiet and safety of his kitchen. He just needed a minute alone to get his shit together, but he should have expected the phantom footfalls that followed him across the tile floor to the cabinet. 

As he took out a tall glass with shaking hands, the ghost hopped up to sit on the counter just beside him and started talking to himself.

“What the hell does a guy gotta do to get a little attention, huh?” The figure held up his slightly transparent hands in front of his own face, turning them over and back again. “I-I’m kinda freaking out here.”

Under the show of irritation he sounded sad, and a little terrified.

“They can’t see you,” Steve muttered softly, regretting it the second the words passed his lips. 

He knew better than to engage with ghosts. 

Since the moment he’d first shown signs of the gift, he’d been taught by his late grandfather to leave the spirit world be, and mind his own goddamn business.

He’d only broken the rules one other time, about a month or so after they learned the full truth of what happened to Barb and he’d seen her essence lurking around his pool at night. That experience had only served to further prove the old man’s point. 

Nothing good ever came from acknowledging the dead. 

But this was Eddie. 

They’d fought together, bled together. Eddie was his–his ally, his compatriot, his friend. 

And towards the end there Steve was even starting to think that maybe… maybe one day they could be more, if he ever got up the courage to flirt back.

Not that it mattered now.

“No shit, Harrington!” Eddie spat. “I’ve been waving my hands in front of their faces, screaming Dustin's name at the top of my lungs and getting jack squat back in return. I mean what the fu—”

With a sad little smile Steve turned, finally looking straight at the other boy just in time to see his eyes go impossibly wide. 

“Wait—holy shit! Harrington, does this mean you can see me?!”

Steve winced, grimacing at the sheer volume of Eddie's voice. “And hear you, unfortunately.”

Who knew the loudest guy he’d ever met would be even louder in death. 

Actually, that tracked. 

“Steve?” Robin’s voice filtered in as she called out to him from the other room.

Steve took a deep breath, locking eyes with the adorably confused looking ghost haunting his kitchen as he shouted back to her. “Yeah?” He raised a hand to his head, rubbing at the bridge of his nose just as Robin appeared in the doorway. 

“What are you up to in here?” She asked.

“Oh, just…” Steve trailed off, trying and failing not to track Eddie’s movements as he hopped down off the counter and began to stalk towards Robin, a determined, mischievous glint in his eye. 

“ …talking to myself.”

Her eyebrows furrowed in concern. “You okay?”

“Are you okay she asks,” Eddie grumbled, tipping his head mockingly from side to side. “Pfft—I’m the one who’s invisible. Why isn’t anyone asking if I’m okay?”

“Um,” Steve fought to keep a level expression and not laugh, even as Eddie blew wet raspberries and made increasingly silly faces inches from an oblivious Robin’s nose. “No, actually. I think I might have a migraine coming on,” he lied.

“You want me to get everyone to leave?” She asked.

Yes, good plan! 

In fairness he wasn’t exactly feeling his best. He was exhausted. It had been a long few days.

A long… week and a half? 

Years. 

It had been a long few years.

And he needed some time alone with Eddie, to talk.

“That'd be great, yeah. Thanks, Rob.”

“Sure thing. Why don't you go get in bed with your eye mask on, and I'll bring water and painkillers up?”

“Oooh,” Eddie crooned. “His majesty sleeps with an eye mask? Fancy.”

Ugh, why were all of Steve’s favorite people such fucking smartasses? He glared at Eddie before he could stop himself. Which meant he was staring daggers at a blank wall right now, right in front of Robin, leaving her looking more concerned than ever. 

Shit. 

He should have known she’d wanna stay behind and take care of him. 

“I—um, t-that’s okay,” Steve stuttered out. “M-maybe you should just go on home too.”

Her face fell.

Hacking and wheezing, he forced a fake coughing fit in her direction, only barely covering his mouth with his hand.

“Very convincing,” Eddie commented with clear sarcasm.

Robin wrinkled her nose, recoiling like the germaphobe Steve knew and loved.

“Sorry, I think I'm coming down with a cold or something actually. You should get out while you still can.”

Robin bit at her lip, looking mildly dubious, but eventually she nodded. “Fine. Just promise you’ll call me if it gets any worse, or if you need anything?”

“I promise.”

While everyone cleared out, Steve hid in the kitchen, finally getting that drink of water he so desperately needed—his throat was on fire now that he thought about it—and splashed some more cold water from the sink on his face for good measure.

“You sure you’re not actually coming down with something?” Eddie asked, sitting back up on his perch on the counter. “You don’t look so hot.”

“I’m fine,” Steve said with practiced ease, though his head was beginning to throb a bit. Maybe that migraine thing wasn’t as much of a lie as he’d thought.

With the house now safely empty of prying eyes and ears, he ventured back out into the living room, with Eddie hovering along behind, and locked the deadbolt on the front door before plopping down hard on the couch, letting his head rest against the back of it.

“Okay, so what’s the plan?” Eddie asked, pacing back and forth along the floor in front of him.

Steve let his head loll to one side. “Plan?”

Eddie groaned, stopping in his tracks to throw his head up to the ceiling. “Why couldn’t it be Henderson who can see me.”

Okay, rude.

“A plan, y'know?” Eddie went on. “To get me back? To get me out of the Upside Down or whatever purgatory I'm currently languishing in?”

Steve could only stare at him blankly for a moment as the words sank in. “Eddie—” he began hesitantly, sitting up straight.

“What? Don't tell me you’ve all given up on me already?”

Oh.

Oh, no.

Steve had heard about this, how sometimes spirits don’t realize they’ve passed on, but surely Eddie had to know. What other possible explanation could he have for suddenly becoming invisible and incorporeal? 

“Eddie, what is it you think is happening here, exactly?” He asked, praying he was wrong but bracing himself for the worst. How on earth do you go about telling someone you care about that they’re dead?

“Well, clearly I–I'm…” Eddie sputtered haughtily for a moment before looking away. “I'm not sure. I’ve been separated from my body somehow, obviously. S-so It’s gotta be some weird Vecna shit, right? And uh, you can hear me and see me b-because… because we both got bit by the bats and it gave us, like, our own little freaky hive-mind type… thing?” 

He sounded less and less sure as he went on, and Steve’s heart ached for him. He remembered the bats attacking him part, but not the dying part. That just seemed cruel.

“Eddie, um,” Steve cleared his throat, rubbing his hands together nervously. “I don’t know how to tell you this but you… you died.”

“Bullshit,” Eddie snorted.

“I’m sorry, but it’s true. We came back from the Creel house and you…” Steve paused, struggling for a second to force his words past the sudden lump in his throat. “Dustin was sitting there with your—”.

“No.” Eddie shook his head roughly. “No–no, because, if I'm dead… then how is it you can see me? Huh?! Explain that!” 

“It runs in my family. My dad doesn't have the gift but my grandfather was able to see ghosts, and his father before that.”

“Suuure, Harrington,” Eddie’s mouth twisted into a wry smile. “So—not only am I supposed to believe that I'm dead, but also that you’re descended from some long line of ghost whisperers? Is this a joke to you?! I’m in dire need of–of fucking rescue, and you’re over here trying to fuck with me? Not cool, man. Not cool.”

Steve stood, almost reaching out as he itched to comfort the other boy in some way, but he knew well that it was pointless. “I’m not, I swear I'm not messing with you. I know it’s not what you want to hear, and I'm so sorry but I'm telling you the truth. Dustin, he—” Steve’s voice cracked. “You didn’t have a pulse, Eddie.”

“Stop it!” Eddie snapped.

“I’m sorry, really. I–”

“I said stop!” 

With a choked off sob Eddie moved to shove him away, only to stumble when his hands found nothing solid, or rather, as Eddie’s ghostly and very not solid form passed right through Steve’s body.

Steve held his breath as he waited for it, the sensation of being doused in a bucket of ice water, the spine tingling, creepy crawly thing he’d felt the only other time he’d let a ghost near enough to touch.

But this was nothing like that. 

Eddie felt… warm. And while Steve still shivered it wasn’t because the failed touch had been bad or painful. Quite the opposite, actually. He was left with a pleasant buzzing in his core, the initial warmth lingering, wrapping around him like an embrace before fading slowly.

Maybe all spirits were different. Maybe Barb had felt cold because she’d hated him, because it was his pool she died in—his fault she was out there in the first place.

But Eddie was…

Oh shit—Eddie. 

Steve spun to find him on the floor with his knees pulled up, hugging them to his chest, his huge brown eyes shining with unshed tears. 

Could ghosts cry?

Steve knelt down next to him, biting back a wince as the movement pulled at the bandages hiding beneath his shirt. He’d need to change those again tonight, they felt tacky with dried blood.

Eddie's voice shook when he finally spoke again. “I’m—dead?’

Steve bowed his head in a solemn nod. He would have given anything in that moment to be able to wrap his arms around Eddie.

“T-the bats?”

“There were just too many of them,” Steve explained. “It looked like you put up a hell of a fight, but I think you bled out.”

“My uncle, Wayne, do you know if he—” Eddie trailed off, worrying his bottom lip.

“Dustin talked to him. He couldn't risk telling him everything, but he gave him your guitar pick, and told him you were a hero. That you died a hero.”

Eddie barked a wet laugh, shaking his head.

“It’s the truth," Steve said, hoping his tone left no room for doubt. "If you hadn't distracted them we never would have made it into that attic. And If you hadn’t led them away when you did…” He didn’t need to say it, they both knew Dustin could—and likely would—have been hurt or worse, and those things would have gone through the gate and into the right side up.

It was exactly what Steve would have done too, had their roles been reversed.

“How long has it been?” Eddie asked, quietly.

“Three? No–no, four days.”

“And Vecna?”

“Down, but not out. We wounded him for sure but he got away. That's why everyone was here tonight.”

“Okay,” Eddie blew out a long breath, rubbing hard at his eyes. “What happens now? Do you like, help me find the light or something?” His eyes darted around as though some doorway or portal might appear right there in the living room. “Or maybe I'm going the other way. I can think of a few reasons the big guy might not let me upstairs, but what do I know, maybe self-sacrifice gets you a free pass?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know? Isn’t this your legacy or whatever?”

“I’ve never done,” Steve waved a hand, gesturing between the two of them. “This before. I was taught to ignore the dead. Pretend I can't see them just like everyone else and let them go about their business.”

“How come?”

“Grandfather said if you get too involved, if the dead find out you can see them they’ll never leave you alone. That it’s dangerous. The dead linger for a lot of reasons, but the most common are unfinished business and revenge. Lots of angry spirits out there according to the Harrington journals.”

Eddie tilted his head thoughtfully. “Am I really the first ghost you’ve ever talked to?”

Steve thought of Barb again, the way her face had morphed into a rage-filled mask when he revealed he’d been able to see her all along, but he pushed it forcefully out of his mind.

And lied.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I just told you, my grandfather—”

“No,” Eddie cut in. “I mean why, after a lifetime of ignoring ghosts, did you choose to acknowledge me?”

“B-because, you’re—“ Steve faltered, not knowing quite how to put it into words. He wasn’t sure even he totally understood. Yes he’d started developing a crush on the guy, but it was more than that. They had a connection, Steve felt it, even if Eddie didn’t. And maybe it was normal—inevitable even, when you get thrown into this shit together. But whether it was all just trauma bonding or something more, Steve couldn’t deny the pull.

“You’re—” he tried to say again as he pushed himself to his feet, only to double over, sucking air through his teeth as the dull pain in his sides turned searing and sharp.

“Steve?” Eddie shot up as he spoke, sounding worried.

“‘M fine,” Steve grit out, managing to straighten his posture without another outburst. “Jus' tired.”

Eddie raised a single eyebrow, but thankfully didn’t argue, silently following Steve as he headed for the staircase and began to climb.

Of course, this was Eddie, so he was only capable of being silent for so long.

“Hey, how come I can’t touch you, but I can walk up the stairs?” 

“I don’t know,” Steve huffed out, breath stuttering as he neared the top landing. 

Just a few more steps.

“Do you think I could, like, sit on a couch, or—or lay in a bed?” Eddie asked.

“I don’t know,” Steve repeated, trying not to sound as annoyed and in pain as he felt. He just had to make it to his room, get these stupid wounds cleaned and then he could pass out for a few hours. Maybe then he’d be able to answer questions and figure out what to do about all this. 

“What if I—”

“Eddie!” Steve barked from the top step, whirling to face him. He nearly lost his balance before catching himself with a hand on the wall. His sides were screaming at him and the throbbing in his head was getting worse too. “I really don’t know any more than you do. I don’t know all the ins and outs, or why things work the way they work.  Can you please just give it a rest for a minute?”

Eddie wilted, dropping his gaze to his feet. “Sorry.”

Fuck.

“No,” Steve sighed. ”No, I'm sorry, I shouldn’t be… y’know, when you’re—”

“Dead?!” Eddie snapped, raising his head again. He looked hurt.

“Sorry.” Steve sucked his lip between his teeth.

“Whatever.”

“Eddie—”

Eddie stomped past him and into the upstairs hallway. “Spare me the pity party. It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m telling you, if I was dead, I'd know it.”

Steve opened his mouth to argue but snapped it shut again without another word. He didn’t have the energy, and If that was what Eddie needed to believe for now to get through this, then who was he to tell him what to think? It wouldn’t change the facts but if it made him feel better, what was the harm?

Somehow Eddie had guessed the right door. He waited, leaning up against the opposite wall and very deliberately didn’t look at Steve as he walked over, and pushed into his bedroom. 

Steve went right through to the bathroom to get this over with, not bothering to close the door behind him, assuming Eddie would be able to walk right through anyway if he wanted to.

Eddie did follow, still silently brooding as he found another piece of wall to hold up.

Steve ignored him for now, he felt awful but he’d try to apologize again later once the other boy had calmed down, and carefully peeled his shirt off as he stood in front of the mirror. 

The bandages at his sides looked gnarly and gross. He’d bled again, and it looked like there was something yellow seeping into the huge squares of gauze too. He turned his body to the side, looking over his shoulder to see how the road rash on his back was doing. It looked better than the front, but that wasn’t saying much. The skin around the wide scrapes was red and inflamed. He couldn’t cover those on his own and could really only clean them in the shower, but they were shallow at least and would eventually heal on their own, he figured. 

A quiet gasp reminded him of his audience, and a quick glance over through the mirror showed Eddie staring at his torso with wide eyes.

“It looks worse than it is,” Steve said quietly, quickly looking away. Which wasn’t exactly true but the last thing he needed right now was another person trying to force him to go to the hospital. 

He knew some first aid. 

It was fine.

Turning back to face the sink, Steve ran water over a washcloth and held it to each of his dressings to soak them off. The air stung when it finally hit the wounds, as though they'd been freshly opened, and, sure enough, there was definitely some pus seeping from the edges.

No problem. He’d just have to clean them extra thoroughly.

Gritting his teeth, Steve poured a hefty amount of peroxide on a new clean washcloth and began to gently pat his right side. 

The pain was instant and excruciating. 

Bile rose in his throat, a cold sweat breaking out across his body as the world around him swam. Steve swayed on his feet, dropping the cloth to the ground as he himself began to fall. 

A sudden warmth at his back, and strong hands wrapping around his chest were the only thing that kept him on his feet. Carefully avoiding the worst of his wounds, Eddie had caught him, holding the bulk of his weight until the spinning in his head stopped.

The moment Steve could stand on his own again Eddie jumped back as though he’d been burned.

Steve’s eyes snapped up, locking with Eddie’s in their reflections as he realized with a start what had just happened.

“How?” He whispered. He could still feel the imprint of Eddie’s hands where they had cradled him to his chest. He’d felt so… real, so solid, so—alive for that handful of seconds. 

“I-I don't know!” Eddie said, a little too loud in the small space. “I didn’t even think, or-or like, I forgot that I couldn't. I saw you about to go down and I didn't want you to hurt yourself.”

“I didn’t think it was possible." Steve took a step towards him. "You should try to do that again.”

Eddie tucked his hands behind his back, moving as far away as he could without actually leaving the room. “Don't we have more important things to worry about? Like maybe getting you to a hospital?”

“No.” Steve shook his head. “I told you, it looks worse than it is.”

It was abundantly clear that Eddie didn’t believe him, but something about the accidental touch had freaked him out enough that he let it go.

As quickly as he could, Steve finished cleaning the ruined expanse of his stomach and got both sides wrapped in fresh bandages, managing to do so without nearly fainting this time, and threw a clean t-shirt on to hide the evidence. Hopefully that would stop Eddie looking at him with those big brown fucking sad worried eyes of his. 

Out of sight, out of mind, and all that. 

As much as he liked Eddie’s attention on him, these weren’t exactly the circumstances he would have hoped for.

Steve shut the lights off, and climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to his chin.

“We should try it again,” Steve mumbled through a long drawn-out yawn.

Eddie laughed softly from his corner hiding spot. “What was that, big boy?”

Steve wished he’d try to join him on the bed, but didn’t know how to ask. He untangled one of his arms from the sheets, reaching a hand out in Eddie’s direction. “Touch me?” 

The room was dark, and it could have been that Steve was a little delirious but he was pretty sure a light blush crept over Eddie's cheeks as he took a step closer, his own ringed hand outstretched.

The sight set off butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

Steve waited to feel the tips of their fingers brush, was desperate to feel Eddie’s touch again if he was honest, but it was no use, Eddie’s long digits passed right through.

“Maybe we have to–” Steve interrupted himself with another deep yawn. His body still ached but now that he was tucked in and warm in his bed, it was getting hard to fight the inevitable. 

“Just go to sleep, man,” Eddie said, his lips quirking into a small crooked smile. “It's not like I'm going anywhere.”

It should have been awkward, or weird to know someone would be there all night, lurking around while he slept, but as Steve drifted off he felt safer than he had in a long time, oddly comforted by the fact that Eddie would be there watching over him, even if he was just a ghost.

Thanks as always to @penny00dreadful for being the best beta and an absolutely amazing cheerleader!

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[d1ana-m0nd]

╭─► ❝Rogue Maiden❞

One Piece! Various × Female! Reader || Written by Diana (d1ana-m0nd)

➢ Description : The fourth maiden is often underestimated by her peers, hidden behind a veil of secrecy and countless masks. Raised in a world with psychological danger, she learned to shield herself from attachment and harm. With an uncanny ability to read between the lines and always on guard, her true strength lies in what she conceals.

➢ Link : Masterlist

Character Profile┊A bud adorned by thorns

The Pastiche Island is an island filled with prideful - though they prefer being described as ambitious - women. Women who are skilled with their respective crafts like: exploration, literature, mathematics, science, philosophy, politics, and all forms of art. If you were not skilled in any of the aforementioned subjects, you were deemed useless as a woman and as a human being. Knowledge and skill are the sign of prestige and perfection to everyone on this island; Which is why young girls are rushed into perfection, fearing they would be rejected by society.

Though a former Whitebeard pirate was against this, she turned to you with a grouch as she rambled on and on about how you should not take part in the upcoming screening test. To her, you were but a child, she has yet to discover you possess qualities that were beyond a child's capabilities.

“I'm telling you kid, that test will just make you feel miserable!” The blue-green haired woman insisted as she hastily chopped the vegetables for the stew, “You're still eight years old, you have four more years till the actual test-”

Abruptly, you spoke up, tilting your head at your adoptive mother. "Are you just saying that just because you don't want me to go through the same thing you went through?”

Astrid, the former whitebeard pirate, stopped midway through dicing vegetables just to glare down at you for well… being you. In her eyes, you were just a smart and arrogant child, she was well aware of what you were capable of. However, she knew the maidens better than your child mind could comprehend. They were nothing like the average girl, there is a reason why they have a league of their own even at the ripe age of 12 years old.

"I'm not you, so I won't fail the test.”

The older woman gritted her teeth as a tick mark appeared on her forehead with a smile whose corner's were twitching from irritation. Astrid had to hold back colorful words knowing you were just a blunt brat that did not have a filter. Despite the words coming from someone so small, your words left a bigger impact than the cannons she used to wield back in her pirating days.

The blue-green haired woman set her kitchen knife aside and massaged her temples, "Even if you did take the test, what would you gain? The future is uncertain, don't take any stupid risks-”

You looked up at her with a heavily blank stare that took her mother aback, her usual brash self silenced a mere stare that said ‘Are you for real? ’. The sweet situational irony that these words were uttered by a former pirate who are commonly associated with words like ‘stupid’.

"Oi, oi, oi, you cheeky little runt! Don't try to turn the tables on me.” The older woman barked but you were not fazed by it.

“My past experience has nothing to do with you-"

“Then, why can't I take the test?" You countered with a question, trying to understand her mother's words, because throughout the whole conversation her mother never gave her a proper answer.

Astrid swallowed hard as she simultaneously hardened her glare towards her child, “You just can't! I know taking the test is tempting, and it can be helpful for your future but, the people upstairs are a real piece of work. Even if you did good you'd just-”

"Then watch me, you won't know till we see the results.” You casually quipped.

Your adoptive mother found herself taken aback once again, in awe of her child's boldness. In spite of the fact that you had monochromacy, you would think the child would have a limited view on the world but she didn't let that hinder her potential. She shone brightly no matter how limited her view on the world was.

Admittedly, Astrid was envious of her child's confidence yet, she could not help but doubt your capabilities. She knew it was normal for kids your age to be boastful and overconfident but, she knew for a fact that you are not like other kids, she has witnessed it firsthand. However, that tinge of doubt lingered at the back of her mind and she could not help but feel guilty for this.

Since that day, Astrid was adamant from keeping you to take the test, she did her best to dissuade you but, she was failing to do so as you were just listening to her as her words came out from ear to another. When the day came, you went to the screening test behind your adoptive mother's back. As the day came, you were skimming through the test with ease yet, it took you a while to finish thus leading you to be the last person to finish.

The moment you walked out the test room, you met your adoptive mother at the lobby, who fell asleep with your lunch cradled in her arms. You sat by your sleeping mother's figure, as you did your best to take away the lunch from her without waking her up. In doing so, you were eating your lunch in peace which caught a certain silver haired woman's attention who was passing by the hallway.

As dinner came around, you and your siblings assisted your mother in preparing dinner for everyone in the orphanage. In doing so your mother began distributing a meal for each child. When it was your turn, your mother gave you your meal for the night then, smacked the back of your head and proceeded to feed the next child.

Your older sister, Nana, merely snorted and wore a cheeky smile as she realized the predicament you were in. “Someone's in trouble~", as her narrow eyes and bangs framed her teasing look.

“Oh please, the old hag is just being dramatic", You scowled as you played with your meal.

Just in cue, the said ‘old hag’ slammed the table with her open palmed hands, making the other kids jump in their seats, whilst you maintain a poker look.

“Don't ‘old hag’ me, you little prick! I swear if you fail that test, don't come crying to me because I already warned you but your stubborn arse refused to listen." She placed her hands on her waist.

"Not like I was planning to, you have a lot on your plate.” The child's response elicited anger from her mother only to be interrupted by Nana’s statement, "You should go feed Vicktor and Belaine, They might get hungry from crying.”

The older woman clicked her tongue, fury still evident on her features, then angrily stomped away, leaving you and Nana by yourselves once again.

The pink-haired girl sat next to you as she looked down at you with a small smile, "You know you could just tell her you're taking the test to help her and the orphanage.”

“She'll just get insecure again and feel like she's a terrible mother," You bluntly remarked. When in reality, you didn't know how to express your gratitude.

Nana cooed as she teasingly twirled her pointer finger, “Aww~ Y/N’s too shy to tell mama that she wants to help around~"

To which you happily struck the back of your sister's head with an empty steel plate.

In the first faction, a quartz building that towered over the capitol. Its sides and the cracks are gilded with gold and black, mostly the white quartz outshining the city, the colors were loud and extravagant yet, the designs were simply designed. The same colors that were used dominated the first faction’s architecture style. In contrast to this, the people who walked upon the streets of the first faction wore elaborate, posh, and colorful clothing, akin to how peafowls strut their feathers to attract the opposite sex. But, these people dress to flaunt their wealth, practically screaming ‘I’m far more worth stealing from.’

The building that towered over the capital, it is where the same silver-haired woman from before is visiting. At the moment, the mysterious woman entered Lady Rosaceae Lilith's office to visit the fellow maiden

Lotus Yīng-qǐ whistled as she peeked over Lilith's shoulder, “Wow, that kid seems like a suitable apprentice. Are you taking her in?”

"I'll consider it for now, I need to evaluate her further though.” The beautifully ebony woman with long white dreadlocks with pink ends, whilst gold accessories were attached to her hair. “The proctor noted that she was the last kid to finish in every test. In addition, based on her medical papers, she's too weak to be a maiden.”

Yīng-qǐ raised her brow at this statement, to which the woman with white dreadlocks corrected, “Physically weak I mean. For a bud, she's nearing her blooming stage, despite only being eight years old. There are still some thorns here and there but, I can work with her.”

In spite of her harsh criticism of you, Lilith's smirk is not erased. Not because she was looking down on you but because she could not help the anticipation and excitement building within her. Seeing someone with your capabilities was rare.

Your test scores:

Exploration: 78/100

Literature: 93/100

Mathematics: 80/100

Science: 92/100

Philosophy: 94/100

History: 90/100

Politics: 75/100

Art: 98/100

Athleticism: 49/100

The silver-haired woman thoughtlessly nodded along, as she took away the other papers that mindlessly sat on top of Lady Lilith's desk. “This Emilia girl,” She murmured in awe, “It looks like she's a good candidate."

“Just good but not perfect." Lilith sighed as she played with the gold accessories in her dreadlocks.

Yīng-qǐ adjusted her glasses feeling a bit awkward, the other maiden changed the subject instead. “So, why'd you make Y/N take 9 different tests while Emilia took 4 different tests?”

"Just to check the legitimacy,” The long white haired woman in dreadlocks hummed casually, as she took the papers back from her fellow maiden. "Y/N is from the 4th faction after all, the education system there isn't on par compared to my faction yet, she kept passing. In the academics department of course.”

“As for Emilia, I didn't need to check on her much. She's from the 1st Faction so I expected as much from my own people to do well, just disappointed that her scores weren't higher than that child from the 4th faction."

The silver-haired maiden bit her inner cheek to prevent herself from pissing off the other maiden and to point out her biases. Jokingly, Yīng-qǐ wore a small smile as she adjusted her round glasses then remarked, “You could just say that you were paid off by Emilia's parents to not delve further."

“Oh please," Lilith let out a scoff as she threw a subtle glare at Yīng-qǐ, “I don't need money to know that my own people are smart, they are my people after all, it's only expected they do well.”

The Rouge Maiden's Character Profile:

Weapons:

Chained blades - A whip made of blades.

Parasol-Gun - A parasol with a gun and shield hybrid feature.

Gun - An extra gun with sea prism stone bullets

Abilities:

Masking - An ability to copy people’s combat style and mimic their personality or energy.

The Bloody Maiden’s Abilities:

Hemokinesis / Blood Manipulation - Constructing objects by shaping and solidifying it.

Serenade of Life - Enhancing the maiden's strongest points (For instance, Kudapal Y/N’s speed and accuracy)

Bloodlust - User's senses are heightened, especially when it comes to the person's sense of smell. They can also consume blood in order to recover from their injuries.

Crimson Edge - A sharp object becomes sharper when the maiden infuses their blood with the object.

Blood Art: Alla Prima - A special move made by Kudapal Y/N, wherein its a series of randomized attacks mixed with haki, masking (fighting styles she has acquired), and her original fighting style. The special move goes on till she runs out of blood.

Bloodbath - The user uses their blood splatter or blobs to stop in mid air then explode when the user gives the signal.

Scarlet Piercer - A regular bullet that's enhanced by the maiden's blood, it can only be used twice. The bullet is sharper than a regular bullet.

The Maidens of Pastiche Island are:

Kadupul, Y/N - 4th Faction, The Maiden of Artistry

Appearance - (insert your appearance)

Lotus, Yīng-qǐ - 3rd Faction, The Maiden of Philosophy and Politics

Appearance - A woman with narrow eyes, silver hair with side swept bangs and the tail of her hair settling on her left shoulder.

Ringelblume, Emilia - 2nd Faction, The Maiden of Mathematics and Science

Appearance - Tanned skinned girl, orange hair with yellow roots, half twin buns and half down.

Rosaceae, Lilith - 1st Faction, The Maiden of Exploration and Literature

Appearance - Ebony skinned woman, long white hair in dreadlocks with gold accessories attached to it and pink gradient along the ends.

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[immaturityofthomasastruc]

IOTA Reviews: Revelation and Confrontation

Well, here we are. The final seven episodes of the season. For the most part, Season 5's episodes have been boring at worst and passable at best, with only about four episodes I'd consider to be outright bad. That pretty much disappears starting here. It's like the writers held back for most of the season, and just as the final arc was about to begin, right when most of the audience was led into a false sense of security, they were like:

Let's get into the twentieth and twenty-first episodes of Miraculous Ladybug's fifth season: Revelation and Confrontation

So, for an episode titled “Revelation”, you'd assume it would focus on Marinette and Adrien finally learning the other's secret after all these years, right? Nope, it's a Lila episode, as in Lila is the character we follow. How does it open? By revealing that Lila has different moms she's conning into believing she's their daughter.

I believe Linkara best captures my reaction to this.

YEP. Right out of the gate, we get arguably one of the dumbest plot twists in TV history. For an episode that's supposed to help us learn more about Lila's life, it's only raising more questions than it's answering, and it feels like it was there just for the sake of shocking the audience.

First off, why is she doing this? What does she possibly have to gain living with three random women who, as far as I can tell, have no political, social, or financial power whatsoever? Her entire motivation is lying to make herself look good so she can kiss up to famous people and ride the coattails of their success. Who the hell are these three people and why did Lila chose to pretend to be their daughter? In fact, are any of them even her biological mother?

Second, how did she even pull this off? I can somewhat buy her tricking her peers into believing her lies, but three grown women all believe this person is their daughter? Did she fake a DNA test or something? Did she frame some other kids for murder? Is one of them the kid in Omelas? Did the other moms adopt Lila? They must have, because I'm pretty sure any of them would know they were pregnant, but how did she fake being an orphan? How has she not been caught? The scene establishing this shows her ending a call with one of her mothers right as another one enters her room. You're telling me nobody has ever walked in on Lila talking with one of her mothers?

Third, just how long has she been doing this for? Has she been doing this her entire life? Did she frame her real mother for tax fraud at the age of five so she could explore the world? When the hell did she start doing this, and how did she even get the resources to do it? Does she have more than three moms?

Finally, what the hell does any of this tell us about Lila? We already know she's a liar and a villain, but what does learning she lies about who her mother is accomplish for the narrative. Outside of a single line to Sabine later on that heavily implies she wants to make her her next mother, this scene is entirely pointless. Sure, it shows how effective of a liar she is, but that's what the episode is already setting out to show us! We already know she's manipulative, so what's the point of any of this?!

Jesus Christ, we're only on the first scene, and I'm already pissed off. You see what I mean about these last seven episodes?

After lying some more, Lila learns an update to the Alliance rings has Kagami replace her as the female avatar. When she goes to ask Gabriel why he's cutting off ties with her, we learn just why Gabriel is such a tactical genius.

Gabriel: You were only the face of my brand in exchange for a mission: to monitor my son's relationships and keep him away from bad company. You failed. My son got close to this Marinette Dupain-Cheng who's been nothing but a terrible influence on him. But you did give me one excellent idea: to create a new media-friendly pairing for my son, which is why Kagami Tsurugi will be the new female face of the Gabriel brand. Perfection itself! All that remains to do is perpetuate this facade until it becomes truth in everyone's eyes. And until jealousy eats away at Marinette Dupain-Cheng...

Lila: But... What's to become of me?

Gabriel: You just remain what you are. Nothing.

Because it's not like Lila is easily your most competent ally (at least, by comparison), and is the only one who doesn't hate your guts, right? Seriously, Lila's biggest motivation other than fame is to ruin Marinette's life, and for the most part, as bad as the writing has been, she has been mostly effective in damaging her reputation (Chameleon, Ladybug, Adoration). For God's sake, if it wasn't for her, you would have been exposed as Monarch earlier this season in “Illusion”! Say what you will about Lila as a character and how stupid everyone acts when she's on-screen, but at least she's good at her job.

Lila walks off fuming, and Gabriel considers akumatizing her, but doesn't want to risk it because of how much she hates him... even though multiple Akumas over the course of the show were people who hated Gabriel or wanted revenge on him (The Bubbler, Simon Says, Style Queen, Heart Hunter, Passion, Action). It also doesn't stop him from akumatizing Lila later on in the episode, because her hatred is now directed at Marinette. And as we all know, it's physically impossible to hate more than one person at a time.

After a quick scene showing Marinette and Adrien's relationship is now public knowledge, we cut to class, where Ms. Bustier is handing back tests.

Also, despite being in the second trimester of her pregnancy (which hasn't been mentioned since the New York Special, over two years before this episode premiered), Ms. Bustier is wearing no maternity clothes to speak of, just her usual outfit with a noticeable baby bump.

I'm obviously not an expert, but I don't think that's good for the baby. If anyone reading this has experience with being pregnant, feel free to correct me.

Ms. Bustier points out that Sabrina put her name on both hers and Chloe's. Ms. Bustier naturally wants to know what the hell is going on.

Ms. Bustier: How long has this been going on?

Chloe: Oh, since we learned to write-- I mean, since Sabrina did.

Yep, after almost five seasons, the writers are now officially resorting to making dumb blonde jokes, the only kind of humor rivaled by fart jokes and racist jokes in terms of being overused and unfunny.

Ms. Bustier lets Sabrina off with a warning and decides to help Chloe make up for the lost work and salvage her academic career. For some reason, even though this is a reasonable response to discovering one of your students has been cheating for years, Marintte has a problem with this.

Marinette: Everybody knows that Chloe been cheating, taking advantage of Sabrina and not making any efforts compared to the others... for years! And the only consequence is that she's going to get help?! Of course, we need to support students who have problems, but not when they're the problem!

If you had a problem with Chloe mistreating Sabrina, THEN WHY THE HELL DIDN'T YOU TELL MS. BUSTIER YOURSELF? Even Lila points out that Marinette should have pointed this out to the teachers as class representative (I'm not sure if that's a thing in French schools, but let's assume it is for this episode's sake), but Marinette herself says she chose not to.

Marinette: Why would I have? She doesn't have difficulties! Only privileges! And if you need proof to see how the teachers will let her get away with anything!

What was it Alya said in “Origins”? Something about evil triumphing if good people do nothing? Eh, I'll think about it later.

Also, who's to say this isn't a punishment? Chloe is still going to have to make up her work, she'll need more attention from the faculty as a result, summer school is most likely on the table now, and who's to say her dad won't have problems with this? Yeah, we know he's a spineless coward, but let's assume he'll actually act like a parent for once, for the sake of argument.

Despite outright saying that she neglected her duties as class representative, Marinette is shocked Lila takes the chance to suggest she replace her for the job. Later at lunch, like what's happened in every other Lila episode, Marinette tries to tell Alya that Lila is a liar, Alya doesn't believe her for a second, and nothing changes. Oh wait, I forgot to mention that this time, Adrien and Nino are there too! That makes it different!

Seriously, why are we still doing this? It's almost the end of Season 5, and even though Alya is one of Marinette's trusted confidants, the show still needs to have this drama with her not believing her. It honestly feels like a lot of the Lila episodes this season were originally written before Season 4 aired, but something changed, so they just threw them here when it makes no sense for Alya to still doubt Marinette after all this time. It's also why they randomly threw this line in to remind us that Alya knows.

Alya: You know, even Ladybug accepts help from Scarabella every once in a while.

Yeah, mind telling me what happened the last time Alya transformed into Scarabella?

OH RIGHT.

It's during this little conversation where we get the first hint of the episode's moral, and believe me, I'll get to that. Alya tries to reason with Marinette that maybe it's possible for Lila to help Chloe change for the better, which Marinette vehemently refuses to believe. We're clearly supposed to see Alya as being too naive and is oblivious to Lila's true nature, but neither of them know just how bad she really is. We, the audience, know that Lila has worked with Gabriel and Monarch willingly in the past (Heroes' Day, Chameleon, Miraculer, Illusion, Adoration) and that she's living under several fake identities. Yeah, we know Lila hates Marinette and tried to get her expelled in “Ladybug”, but nobody else knows just how bad she is. It doesn't help that Marinette's reasons for Lila only amount to “She's a liar!”, and not “She tried to get me expelled!”, intentionally making her come across as petty so it's easier for Alya to doubt her.

Another thing that makes the whole “Alya thinks Lila can help Chloe change” deal is that we already know Marinette has done nothing to really stop her behavior as class representative or as Ladybug, so it's hard to really act like Marinette contributes a lot to the job, especially when, once again, she willingly admitted to not even trying to reach out to the other teachers about Chloe's grades or how she's using Sabrina to get by in class. Even though Alya doesn't know about Lila's true nature, she's not wrong when it comes to believing someone else could bring something new to the position of class representative.

And this only gets worse, as we see Lila's latest plan to win over the class.

Lila: My dear classmates, I am convinced that even the worst person can change if you reach out to them. And to prove it to you, Chloe, will you be my deputy?

(The whole class gasps in shock)

Chloe: (sighs and walks to the front, putting on a fake smile)

Nino: Wow, is Chloe actually going to be a mere deputy?

Alya: That is so not Chloe!

Rose: Does this mean it's already working?

Mylene: Can Lila actually get her to change?

Marinette: (slams her fists on her table) This is so crazy! It's all lies!

Lila: Poor Marinette... couldn't succeed because she was too busy with her love life, as well as being reminded of her disdain for Chloe. But you know me. You know all about my humanitarian work. I'm used to going into conflict zones. I can do this. There are two weeks left. What do you have to lose? Help me, help Chloe change. Vote for me!

OH, YOU NO GOOD MOTHERFU---

Sorry, sorry. Had a little... episode there. Where were we?

Okay, first off, wow. Are you trying to seriously piss off your fanbase? The whole argument of being able to appeal to the humanity in the worst person is one of the biggest arguments people in favor of Chloe redemption make, so you know damn well this scene was targeted towards them. What was the original draft for this? A still image of Thomas Astruc flipping off the audience?

Second, once again, Lila isn't wrong. As far as we know, Marinette did nothing to really help or stop Chloe over the school year other than foiling the occasional scheme. While we know it's a lie, can you really blame the rest of the class for believing Lila will actually make things better for them by finding a way to stop Chloe from bullying them? It doesn't help that the case Marinette makes for her class representative campaign is that she's giving up on helping Chloe, saying she sucks, and that she's going to help the rest of the class instead. Because we all know showing blatant bias against one of your classmates is a surefire way to win the favor of your peers, right?

As for the speech itself? Well...

Marinette: My dear friends, of course, you should always do everything in your power to help people. And we all hoped that Chloe would become a better person. Ladybug reached out to her. Ms. Bustier reached out to her. So did Adrien and so did I. You all reached out to her. This proves how big your hearts are. And yet, Chloe remained the same. Why? Because as far as she's concerned, having a big heart is a weakness to be exploited. Chloe already believes she's better than all of us. So... don't be fooled. I, for one, am done wasting my energy in vain. As class representative, I'd much rather help all of you because you deserve it a thousand times more.

So here's the main moral of the episode, kids: If you ever decide to be the bigger person and show kindness to someone who is mean to you, it's going to bite you in the ass sooner or later, so never try helping other people change. I just... what the fuck, Astruc?

Yeah, the show tries to point out that being kind to others is still important, but the context of the episode itself doesn't show any examples. You could have used Kim as an example of someone who has changed his ways, but “Derision” retconned him into not being a bully, and Felix isn't even in this episode, so he can't be used as an example. The episode never really provides an argument showing the difference between people who can change their ways and people who choose not to, which is why the lesson doesn't work. How exactly is a child watching this supposed to tell when they're being taken advantage of for their kindness? For a show with an opening that has the lyrics, “The power of love always so strong”, this episode really isn't doing a lot to encourage its audience to show compassion to others.

And we're not done yet. Lila makes up a sob story relating to getting fired, and tearfully says there's no hope for Chloe. Once again, the writers think by having a villain say stuff certain fans believe in, it's meant to automatically invalidate the argument. What are you going to have Lila say next? “Felix should face consequences for his actions”? “Gabriel is far worse than Chloe will ever be”? “Somehow, Chloe is worse than either of her terrible parents”? I'm all ears here.

The entire story was a gambit by Lila so she'd have a cover story, as she plans to attract an Akuma with her sheer hatred for Marinette. Like I said earlier, Monarch assumes that since Lila hates Marinette at the moment, it's impossible for her to harbor any negative feelings towards his civilian identity, choosing to akumatize her into Hoaxer.

Ignoring the fact that the name sounds like it belongs to an antidepressant, Hoaxer is an okay recolor of Volpina. There's not much else to say visually. Her powers involve brainwashing anyone who hears her lies through the Alliance rings... even though she was already able to manipulate others through lying, so this seems like a redundant power to give her. Sure, she can also teleport through the Alliance rings, but that's just something Lady Wifi could already do. Monarch also gives her the Fox Miraculous' Mirage to use so she can create fake footage to back up her lies... even though she already has the power to make everyone believe her lies. Yeah, this upgrade is kind of pointless, isn't it?

Hoaxer's first lie is to say that Marinette is really Monarch. With the exception of Adrien, Ivan, and Mylene (who don't wear Alliance rings), the entire class is brainwashed into hunting Marinette, believing they'll save Paris if they stop her. After Adrien points out how it wouldn't make sense for Marinette to be Monarch if she wants Lila to expose her secrets, he ducks out to transform into Cat Noir, soon meeting up with Ladybug.

Ladybug and Cat Noir steal an Alliance ring from Officer Roger to learn how this power works, only to learn the brainwashing is only effective as long as the victim is wearing an Alliance ring. Hoaxer senses that one of her victims lost their ring, so she turns the rest of Paris against the two heroes by saying that they're from the planet Saturn and fart bubbles that destroy the ozone layer. Believe me, I wish I was able to come up with a line that stupid.

Ladybug summons her Lucky Charm, and gets a sewing machine. She goes back to her house, only to be ambushed by Alya. Ladybug takes off the ring and detransforms, lending the Ladybug Miraculous to Alya so she can transform into Scarabella as part of her plan. Because even though Alya has already been exposed three times in the past two seasons, the animators paid for the Scarabella model, and goddamn it, they're going to get their money's worth out of it. While Cat Noir fends off some brainwashed civilians, Hoaxer uses her powers on Nathalie to get her to send all of Gabriel's private secrets to her. How Monarch doesn't sense this is anyone's guess. Marinette pretends to appeal to Lila's conscience as part of a plan involving her, Scarabella, and Cat Noir, but Lila then rejects the Akuma with ease.

The Akuma somehow de-evilizes itself, Scarabella makes her only contribution to the fight by using Miraculous Scarabella to fix the damage, Monarch still doesn't know Lila now has intel on his civilian identity when he should have a telepathic link with her, and instead blames Marinette for all of his problems.

Back at school, Adrien apologizes to Marinette for not telling her to act against Lila, something that should be huge. It's just that both of them make it about how bad he feels, not about Marinette.

Adrien: I'm sorry, Marinette. I was wrong. I shouldn't have told you to act against Lila. If you give the slightest opportunity to people like her, they'll grasp at it and cause disasters in no time. And now, you're the one who looks like a bad person.

Marinette: You thought you were doing the right thing. Just like with Chloe. That's another reason why I love you, Adrien. You always want to see the good in other people. But sometimes, the good we think we see in some people is just a reflection of our own, and we end up being fooled by our own kindness. But we'll find a way to expose Lila eventually.

Nevermind the fact that Lila's lies haven't done anything to negatively affect Adrien at school, only Marinette, so his little pity doesn't feel earned. There's a difference between feeling bad about something and making it all about you. Also, once again, the episode's moral still comes across less like “mean people can take advantage of your kindness” and more like “never trust anyone, as your attempts to show kindness can backfire horribly on you”.

Lila is elected class representative, and Alya still believes her over Marinette. How does Marinette respond?

Marinette: I decided to let her have her way so I can finally prove to you all who she really is.

Spoiler alert, next episode, someone other than Marinette does the heavy lifting to expose Lila, and I doubt it was ever part of Marinette's plan.

The episode ends with Lila learning all of Gabriel's secrets, which would have been a much better opportunity for her to learn he's Monarch instead of learning about it off-screen as far back as “Emotion”.

THE BIGGEST IDIOT OF THE EPISODE IS... MARINETTE

Once again, Gabriel was very close to earning the Biggest Idiot Award for the third time for ditching Lila for no reason and later giving her the tools needed to learn his deepest and darkest secrets, but Marinette edged him out here. Not only did Marinette outright admit to neglecting her responsibilities as class representative, blamed Ms. Bustier for not doing anything about Chloe when she hasn't done anything to stop her either, and made a very poor argument for her reelection campaign by saying that being nice is bad. But hey, maybe her genius plan next episode will make up for it.

“Confrontation” starts off with Adrien struggling to fill out an orientation form for what kind of school he wants to go to next year and what he'll study. I'm not really an expert in French schools, but I'll assume this is how things are done there. Either way, Adrien isn't willing to fill out the form because as we saw in “Pretension”, Gabriel is planning on sending him to a private school in London next year. Why Adrien wasn't excused from this assignment is beyond me.

Adrien: If Marinette finds out that my father's decided to send me to a private school in London next year, it will break her heart and mine, too.

Again, it's really funny how a huge portion of his screentime in Season 4 involved being angry at Ladybug for keeping secrets from him, yet now, Adrien sees nothing wrong with keeping secrets from Marinette, even when it's inevitable that she'll find out. Then again, Plagg's response isn't any better.

Plagg: I know how I would feel if I had to be separated from you, Adrien, and there is nothing funny about that at all.

Then why did you force Adrien to give up his Miraculous in “The Kwamis' Choice”?! I'm pretty sure that was all your idea, as was what happened afterwards with Monarch almost winning.

As Marinette worries about the career stuff, but through some flashbacks showing just how selfish and one-dimensional Chloe and Lila are, she's not exactly confident they have her best interests in mind. Also, remember how Marinette said she supposedly let Lila win at the end of the last episode in order to make progress on finding a way to stop her?

Marinette: I feel like I'm betraying our friends by entrusting their forms to such awful girls.

As we'll later learn, while she does come up with a plan to expose Lila, it was after this scene that it happened, so this doesn't really make it look like Marinette has any ideas to stop Lila after she won at the end of the last episode. After the rest of the class fills out their forms, Lila destroys them all so Sabrina can forge their handwriting. Of course, not before we get another “funny” scene where Chloe struggles to understand their own plan.

Lila: After you destroy the forms, you'll fill out new ones using your talent for forging student's handwriting. I'll tell you what to write.

Chloe: Not so fast! You're using too many words to explain your plan!

GET IT? DO YOU GET IT?! SHE'S RICH AND BLONDE, SO THAT MEANS SHE'S STUPID! WHY AREN'T YOU LAUGHING AT THIS COMEDY GOLD?!

Meanwhile, Nino calls for another meeting of the totally useful and not at all irrelevant Resistance, citing an issue. Because they're all planning to go to different schools next year, they're not sure how they can help Ladybug and Cat Noir... other than, oh, I don't know, meeting outside of school? It doesn't matter, because everyone unanimously volunteers to go to the same high school next year. Well, everyone except Nathaniel, but that's not important.

After Marinette gets a call from someone, Mylene suggests that the class go on strike against being forced to decide their careers so early in life. This would have made a lot more sense if you chose to do this before submitting your forms, but hey, whatever floats your boat. Adrien finally figures out what he wants to do, so he hands his form over to Lila. What did he write down?

Lila: (reading the letter) “I've been thinking a lot, and still not know what I would like to do later in life. The only thing I know for sure is that I love Marinette Dupain-Cheng. But I guess that doesn't really help you. I'm sorry. Adrien Agreste.”

Minimum wage at Wendy's it is. Good choice, Adrien.

Yeah, I think now's as good a time as any to talk about how flat Adrien's character has been this season. Even though Adrien has gotten more character focus thanks to not being hampered by loads of other side characters and temp heroes, he hasn't really had a lot of strong moments overall. Scenes that should feel like a big deal, like him accidentally Cataclysming Monarch or realizing he has feelings for Marinette are usually downplayed or brushed off so we can see how those events affect other characters. We don't get any scenes with Adrien feeling guild for possibly condemning a man to death because more focus is given to Gabriel dealing with his impending demise. We don't get any scenes that show how Adrien has come to see Marinette in a romantic light because more focus is given to Marinette struggling to deal with his sudden confession. And here's this scene. Rather than showing Adrien developing an interest in something he wants to do for a career, a huge sign of his growing independence, what do we get? Adrien saying he loves Marinette and admitting he has no goddamn idea what he wants to do with his life. Such a defining moment for one of the two main characters in the show. I'm just saying, if the last season made a big deal about Adrien wanting to be treated more importantly, why is he still getting shafted by the narrative?

And for the umpteenth time this season, because Chloe is the one saying that Adrien's form is “pathetic”, we're supposed to not agree with her, even though this is supposed to be a serious form that your teachers will see. Just what is this show's obsession with using strawmen to try and invalidate criticism? I've seen more nuanced takes from political cartoons.

Lila and Chloe present the forged forms to the teachers, assigning all kinds of inaccurate assignments for careers that the students don't want. Lila manages to get one student in particular held back, Marin—Juleka. Yeah, Juleka, Lila's most hated enemy is being forced to repeat a year. Why didn't Lila try to keep Marinette held back?

To be fair, Lila's plan is to slander Marinette specifically, but screwing over the entire class feels like a bit of a reach. I don't even know if part of Lila's plan was to attract an Akuma or not. Speaking of, Monarch senses Juleka's negative emotions and sends a Megakuma her way. Because it's a day that ends with a “Y”, the Magical Charm does nothing, so for the sixth time in the series (not counting her brief appearance in “Ladybug”), Juleka is akumatized into Reflekta. I swear, at this point you could make a drinking game for every time an old character model is reused this season.

Reflekta's design is pretty alright. I like the idea of the shy and quiet Juleka getting a brightly colored form that's impossible to ignore, and her power to make everyone else look like her fits her character. Unlike other returning Akumas this season, Reflekta gets a noticeable upgrade to her powers, as now she can essentially create a hive mind with all of her victims on top of getting the Tiger Miraculous' Clout to do some extra damage. Wow, it's almost like the Miraculous powers should actually serve as upgrades to established powers instead of being the only thing that gives the Akuma their powers.

Reflekta goes to town assimilating more victims, Marinette does nothing to get the still pregnant Ms. Bustier to safety so she can dart off and transform into Ladybug. By the time Ladybug and Cat Noir meet up, the city is crawling with Reflektas.

Ladybug summons her Lucky Charm, getting a plastic tape dispenser. Using Cat Noir's staff and the tape, the two put up a fake brick wall poster in an alleyway. The two heroes split up and draw a Reflekta's attention respectively, pretending to be helpless once they reach a “dead end” at the fake brick wall. When the two Reflektas try to use Clout, Ladybug and Cat Noir duck out of the way, letting the two attacks collide.

Ladybug de-evilizes the Megakuma, uses Miraculous Ladybug to fix the damage, and gives Juleka yet another useless Magical Charm.

And while you'd think this is where the episode ends, unfortunately, we're only halfway done. Id anything, this entire fight was pointless, and it's going to lead to a lot of problems with the pacing later on.

Back at school, Lila takes the opportunity to pin the blame on Marinette, though when Marinette points out how good Sabrina is at forging handwriting, Sabrina admits to helping them out. While the blame is still on Marinette, Chloe and Lila follow Sabrina when she runs out of the classroom. In the bathroom, Sabrina is still upset about what she had to do, and when Chloe and Lila confront her and try to keep her in line, only for Sabrina to reveal it was a trap for Chloe and Lila to confess their plan in front of the rest of the class, and one that had been set up a few days ago by Sabrina and Marinette.

So after an episode that went out of its way to show how apologetically irredeemable Chloe and Lila are, Sabrina is the one to ultimately turn a new leaf and is the key player in stopping Chloe and Lila's tyranny. Let's go into all the reasons as to why this failed to be a triumphant moment.

First off, why is Sabrina the key player who helps finally expose Lila? Why not Adrien, or Alya, or anyone else in Marinette's class? Rather than work together with her friends to show she wasn't lying, Marinette only works with Sabrina, and they act like they're the close friends working together. What, you thought Adrien or maybe Alya would help Marinette expose Lila like the end of the last episode hinted at? HA! Of course not.

Second, Sabrina's redemption is forced as hell. I'm not saying Sabrina turning a new leaf is entirely impossible, but the show just expects us to forget all the times she's gone along with Chloe's bullying antics (Origins, Mr. Pigeon, Lady Wifi, Dark Cupid, Horrificator, Darkblade, Reflekta, Zombizou, Stormy Weather 2, Lies, Sole Crusher, Gabriel Agreste, Derision, Adoration), and even in this episode, she still helped forge the new forms for Chloe and Lila. Remember how “Derision” said Chloe's actions couldn't be excused by how poorly she was treated by her mother? Funny how Sabrina's actions can be excused by how poorly she was treated by Chloe. The redemption honestly could have worked if it was Marinette who reached out to Sabrina and saw the good in her, teaching the lesson that while some people refuse to change, that doesn't mean other people can't change either. But instead, Sabrina's just a good guy because the plot said so, a deus ex Sabrina if you will.

Third, this was Marinette's plan to stop Lila? Like I said, while the previous episode made it seem like Marinette had an idea on how to expose Lila, this episode showed that Marinette had absolutely no plans prior Sabrina's call, and she handed over the sheets to Chloe and Lila earlier. What was Marinette even going to do if Sabrina didn't call? This only makes Sabrina's redemption feel even more forced, because that was what led to Chloe and Lila being exposed.

And finally, we don't even get a lot of resolution with Marinette's classmates believing Lila over her once she's exposed.

Yes, there was a deleted scene where Alya and the others apologize to Marinette instead of just Ms. Bustier which was supposedly cut for time constraints, but why would you leave that out when Marinette's friends believing Lila over her has always been a sore spot among viewers? If only there was another scene that could have been cut out of the episode that added nothing to the plot over an important character moment showing how guilty Marinette's friends feel.

Chloe and Lila are expelled by Mr. Damocles, but then he gets a call from Andre ordering him to keep them in and do nothing to change the forged forms. Normally, this would be something to make Andre out to be a bad guy, but like Sabrina, because he's being belittled and ordered around by someone else (in this case, Audrey), we're meant to sympathize with him. Trust me, it gets even worse next episode.

Mr. Damocles is upset enough to attract another Megakuma from Monarch. You would think Marinette would transform into Ladybug and save him,but the episode does something different. Somehow, because of the other students telling him to believe in himself, all of their Magical Charms resonate with Mr. Damocles' Magical Charm. And then, his Magical Charm transforms into a shield which de-evilizes the Akuma as soon as it touches it?

I'm sorry, WHAT!?

Yeah... that just happened. I'm happy the Magical Charm actually did something for once, but I don't get why this was the climax of the episode. Why did this episode spend more time focusing on Juleka, Sabrina, and Mr. Damocles instead of Marinette's final battle of wits with Lila? Forget it, it's almost over anyway.

Mr. Damocles sends in the correct forms for the students before he resigns as principal, and we then cut to Ms. Bustier realizing that Chloe is pure evil and needs to face consequences for her actions. What does Chloe say that causes her to come to this revelation?

Ms. Bustier: Where's Lila?

Chloe: How should I know? I'm not the betrayer's mother.

Yep. A somewhat rude answer to a question Chloe doesn't even know the answer to is the last straw for Ms. Bustier. Maybe it's the hormones? Ms. Bustier decides to give extra attention to Chloe going forward, and somehow, that's different from Ms. Bustier wanting to help Chloe make up her schoolwork at the beginning of the last episode. But what happened to Lila, you may ask?

Oh my God, she's cosplaying as T'pol from Star Trek: Enterprise! The fiend!

Yep, Lila abandoned her old school and moved onto one of her other lives, now calling herself Cerise. Okay, a few questions.

First, was she wearing makeup as Lila or something? I'm not sure if it's the lighting in this one scene, but I swear, her skin looks lighter than Cerise here.

Second, how is Lila going to blend in under her new identity when for a while, she was the face of the Gabriel brand? What, is she going to claim that “Lila” is her twin sister or something?

Third, if Lila's trying to blend in as Cerise, why did she throw her old wig in the trash, in broad daylight?

Fourth, why wasn't this scene the one used to establish Lila has multiple lives? It actually feels plot-relevant, unlike the revelation of her having three different mothers last episode.

Finally, we're really going to brush over Lila facing any setback to her vague goals? She got expelled, and we don't even get to see her face consequences for her actions after all these years? What a load...

THE BIGGEST IDIOT OF THE EPISODE IS...MARINETTE

Yep, Marinette got the award twice in the same two-parter, and this is her third one at that. Adrien was sort of close to winning it with his stupid application form and not doing anything to stop Lila himself, and even though Marinette's plan to expose Lila worked, I still had to give it to her. She willingly gave her and her friends application forms to Chloe and Lila without any plans in case they tried something bad, had absolutely no plan to stop Lila in general until Sabrina came alone, and didn't think to simply de-evilize a Megakuma targeting her principal when Lila was able to sneak out with no problem.

Anyway, these episodes SUCK. I know it might not seem as noticeable compared to my reviews last season, as I've been trying to not get too angry, but I still couldn't stand these episodes.

As always, Lila's lies are incredibly stupid and don't work under the suspension of disbelief, especially with what we learn about her here. What I don't get is that we still don't know why Lila does what she does. I still don't know why she is so obsessed with getting the better of Marinette and Gabriel outside of being petty, and given what happens by the end of the season, it makes her unclear motivation even less excusable. In a pair of episodes meant to give more focus to Lila as she tries to ruin Marinette's reputation right before the school year ends, we really needed more depth for her character.

Marinette wasn't any better. What should have been a standout moment for her this season, she spent most of these two episodes complaining about Chloe and Lila when she did nothing to really stop them, and only made progress when Sabrina had a change of heart out of nowhere. Hell, even then, Chloe and Lila barely faced any setbacks for their actions. Marinette honestly felt very underutilized in what should have been an important set of episodes for the season.

Adrien didn't fare any better. He barely got to do anything and unlike Marinette, he wasn't even involved with the final plan, despite the ending of “Revelation” hinting that he and Marinette were going to work together to stop Lila. And then there's the form he filled out where he pretty much confirmed that he has no goals in life and that the writers just have no idea what the hell they want to do with him now that he's Marinette's boyfriend.

But let's talk about what I think really killed these two episodes, specifically “Confrontation”: The unnecessary focus on side characters. I can understand why Ms. Bustier needed more focus in these episodes, considering it was focused on the school environment, but I can't give that kind of lenience to “Confrontation”. That episode decided rather than focusing on Marinette finally outsmarting Lila, we needed more focus on Sabrina, Juleka, and Mr. Damocles. Why did we need to give Sabrina a change of heart over Marinette's friends working together to help her expose Lila? Why did we need Juleka to be targeted by Lila and subsequently akumatized by Monarch in a gambit to slander Marinette when all Lila had to do was have it look like Marinette tampered with Chloe's form? Why did we need an extended sequence of Mr. Damocles fending off an Akuma with the help of his class when he had no real presence in this arc, and if anything, took Chloe and Lila's side more often than not (Ladybug, Derision)? I don't get why the writers chose the tail end of the season to actually develop some of its side characters at the expense of major players like Marinette, Adrien, and Lila.

Look, these episodes were just awful, okay? And somehow, things manage to get worse as we get closer and closer to the end of the season.

[michelle-is-writing]

Unexpected ch.2, Spencer Reid

Word count: 4.4k~

Read the first part here!

It isn't that hard to lie and say you need an emergency transfer to where your parents live. Thankfully, I'm able to do such a thing and move into a house similar to the last one I had when I lived in Las Vegas. I'm even more thankful to gain a good position at the FBI agency there, but I'm not all too thrilled about having to leave my best friends at Quantico. I knew them for only a short year, but it felt like I knew them forever.

Four months of the same work I once did months before pass, but this time, I've had to do it a bit differently. Instead of being able to travel to other agencies and help review specific cases for them to solve, I'm forced to stay at my agency and continue working there. It turns out the FBI doesn't exactly like their pregnant workers traveling, no matter how far along they are.

In my second month of working, I found out I was pregnant through a sudden spell of vomiting and fever. When one of my co-workers took me to the doctor, they did a blood test, and like any other unsuspecting parent, the news hit me in the face. One night of passion, sadness, and hurt lead to that moment where I was given the two exciting words that I had least expected.

"You're pregnant!"

When I was first given the news, I was excited, and I still am. I've always wanted kids, but I've always wanted to have kids that had a father present in their lives (preferably, in this case, Spencer). Going by the fact that Spencer most likely hates me for my sudden absence from work and leaving in the middle of the night, I can presume he doesn't want anything to do with our baby. Who would? But at the same time, can you blame me for leaving?

I felt alone in a relationship with a guy who acted like he barely knew me when we had known each other for our entire lives. I felt like I knew Spencer like no one else, and vice versa. I was wrong about something I would have bet my life on, and it was absolutely mortifying.

I still love Spencer, and I will never stop loving him. I think out of everything, that's the most painful thing. The high probability that he hates me now comes in second, which is why I haven't told him about my pregnancy. That, and I presume he never wanted kids - so, how can I push that onto him and make him not only hate me but a child he helped create? Why would my child ever deserve that?

Without fail, Penelope has tried to call me once every week ever since I left, and I just can't answer her calls. As stated once before, me leaving out of nowhere is embarrassing. I know that the gang is concerned about me leaving without saying anything, but how can I face them without lying? I can't just tell them I left because I knew Spencer didn't love me like I thought - that would've just added insult to injury.

However, the call Penelope sent this week was followed by two consecutive text messages.

Answer me right now or I will hack into any information about you there is available!

I mean it!

Because I knew she really did mean it, I answered her next call without hesitation.

"Hi, Penelope," I answered her, my voice drained of all emotion. Sitting down on my couch with my phone held against my ear, I placed my free hand over my small baby bump and lightly rub it without even thinking about it. I love my ever-growing child with all of my heart, and I haven't even met the baby boy yet.

"Don't 'hey, Penelope' me!" She almost shouts into my ear, causing me to close my eyes with guilt. "You haven't called, texted, emailed, nothing! You have sent me absolutely nothing explaining why you left! Why did you leave?!"

Her question makes me want to vomit, and I know I can't lie to her. "Spencer and I slept together the night before I left," I explain blatantly, hearing an immediate response only seconds later.

"So what?! Was the sex lousy? Did he not do it right?" Her questions roll off her tongue without pausing. "You have to teach the boy! He hasn't had that much experience in the past years, so you have to give him pointers and-"

"Pen, he couldn't get Maeve off his mind," I cut her off, tears rolling down my cheeks. As much as I'd love to laugh at Penelope's usual actions, I can't when I'm thinking about that night. "H-he mentioned her right after we were done, and I realized I would never be enough for him. I-I just couldn't face him after that, Pen; I just couldn't."

Unlike last time, Penelope halts her words before letting out a single-word response. "Oh," She mutters, every ounce of anger or frustration gone from her voice. She knew how I felt about Spencer and how I had always felt about him, even when we were younger.

A few more seconds pass before she speaks up again, her voice now a bit quieter. "But why couldn't you call me back or anything? Why'd you have to ignore me?"

Penelope's softly spoken words break my heart, and with the already falling tears, I can't hold back the new ones that arise. Biting my lip to prevent myself from sobbing out-loud, I take my hand away from my belly and raise it to cover my mouth. I never wanted to hurt anyone - I truly didn't - so, it hurts to hear that I ended up doing so anyway.

"Penelope, I'm pregnant," I shakily confess, shaking my head as I continually cry. "And I couldn't tell you, or Spencer, or anyone, because Spencer never wanted any kids! He never wanted me, Pen!"

Every word that leaves my lips is followed by my hands waving around frantically as I close my eyes with a shake of my head. It physically hurts to admit all of this to Penelope. Not only does it hurt, but it's embarrassing. I'm by myself with no one around me, the only guy I've ever loved doesn't want me, and I'm pregnant and scared to death. I have never felt so alone in my life, and it sucks.

"...Does he know?" Penelope asks, making me instantly sober up.

"NO!" I nearly shout, my eyes shooting open. "No, Pen, you cannot tell him! Whatever, you do, do. not. tell. him!"

"But, he deserves to know, (Y/n)!" Penelope argues, making me cry even more. She just said the same thing I've been debating with myself over the past two months, and to hear her say it makes me want to just fall asleep and forget about my problems. She's right, and I know it.

"He. doesn't. want. kids. Pen!" I repeat myself, placing my hand to my forehead. "And he doesn't want me either!"

"(Y/n), he does! He does want you!" Penelope tells me, making me shake my head. "When you left, he didn't talk to anyone. He just... he shrank into himself and never came back out! When we saw that you had transferred to the Las Vegas Unit, Spencer submitted transfer papers! Just to be with you!" Her words shoot right through me, making me pause in my actions as my eyes go wide. "He got denied, and when you didn't respond to my calls or his calls, he thought... he thought you didn't love him."

"Oh, God," I mutter, shaking my head. "I never stopped loving him, Pen - how could I? H-how could he think that?" I ask, not expecting an answer back from Penelope. "I tried to do everything I could to make him feel loved, to let him know I loved him and only him!"

Leaning my head back against the couch, I sink further into the plush material with a sigh. "When in reality, I was the one who never got anything like that back," I explain, my voice slow and calm now that I've let out the things I've been holding back on saying for months now. "I was the one who felt like I was never good enough no matter what I did or how hard I'd try... I would always be second-best - and that was that."

"If only you know how wrong you are, (Y/n)," Penelope tells me, sounding like she's crying too. "I-I know you won't believe me, but none of what you are saying is true. Absolutely none of it," She adds, "Spencer loves you with every ounce of his being, and you are not second-best to him."

"Pen..." I drag on, sighing.

"I know you don't believe me, but you have to," She states, before letting out a sigh. "I miss you, girl-genius, and I want to come and see you," Penelope confesses, making me lightly smile. "I miss our fashion conversations and shopping trips, and I've been sad the entire time you've been gone!"

Once all of her words process through my mind, I smile fully. Despite the shit that I've done, she's still the same fun-loving, girly-girl Penelope that I was close to in Quantico, and somehow, we're still close.

"I miss you too, Pen," I tell her, placing my hand back on top of my risen belly. In response, two little feet kick against my hand, making me smile. "I... I'm off for the next couple weeks if you want to come and see me," I tell her, "I think I'd like it if my baby boy met his aunty."

As soon as the words leave my lips, Penelope gasps. "You're having a boy?" She asks gently, making me giggle. I guess I didn't include that when I first told her. "That's it - I'll be coming in on Friday!"

I grin. "Don't rent a hotel room!" I tell her, standing from the couch to walk into the extra room in my house. I didn't think I'd be having anybody stay over for a while, so I didn't put any sheets or pillows on the guest bedroom bed. "I have a guest room here at my place, so don't waste any money on a room."

"Okay, okay!" She cheers, making me smile even more. "I'll get a flight and be over there in no time. I love you, and I'll see you then!"

With that, I tell her I love her back and we hang up. With my phone now in my hand rather than pressed against my ear, I move to sit on the mattress and sigh. I wasn't expecting Penelope to say everything she did, nor did I expect her to be so forgiving of me. Although, it is Penelope we're talking about here, and I don't think there's ever been a moment in her life where she wasn't understanding. I told her my problems, and in spite of loving Spencer like a brother, she listened to me and understood where I was coming from.

"I'm sorry you had to hear what your mummy told Aunt Pen," I apologize to my bump, my hand still resting against it. "Your daddy really is a great guy with a big heart, but mummy wasn't meant for him," Despite my heart cracking as I mutter these words, I smile and circle my hand around my bump. "However, mummy knows that you and I are meant to be, and no matter what, you will always be my little boy."

With Penelope calling me on Wednesday night, I didn't have to wait long for her arrival. I even went out and bought some lilac sheets for the bed so she could be on new ones, and I also got a pair of peacock themed earrings for her while I was out. I have to admit I'm a bit excited to see what she has to say about the nursery I've put together myself. I painted the walls with pale blue paint and then stenciled ducks throughout the middle of the wall. The furniture is all made out of a Walnut wood shade, and the curtains match the walls with a yellow ribbon holding them together.

On Friday night, I put everything together for Penelope's arrival and smile to myself. A part of me wants to believe it's just her that's coming, but another part of me is telling me that she's bringing Spencer with her. I'm partially scared, but at the same time, I'm not. What happens, happens... and there's nothing I can do about it.

Hearing a knock at the door, I close the kitchen drawer I'm currently digging into and move onto the next one. "Come in!" I shout, digging through the mess of kitchen utensils to find the pair of earrings I bought for Penelope. What interrupts me is two little feet kicking me as I do so, making me stop and place a hand to my belly. "Not now, little one!" I whisper with a smile, feeling my baby boy halt in his kicking. I can only hope he'll be willing to listen to me like this when he gets older.

Just as I find the black gift bag with the peacock themed jewelry in it, I hear my apartment door open and close. It isn't a peppy voice that I hear a few seconds later, and instead, a voice that I've wanted to hear for what feels like such a long time. Now that I hear him speak, I realize my mother's intuition has already kicked in.

"You know," the deep, yet boyish voice begins, making me stop moving. "Standing for long lengths of time can slow down the growth of a fetus, and cause premature birth as well as prolonged pain in the lower back."

A few moments pass before I slowly place the jewelry on my kitchen counter and turn around to see Spencer standing a few feet away from me, his hands wrestling with each other. Despite my mind telling me not to, my body takes charge, and I look into Spencer's eyes to see him gazing at me with glossed-over eyes. Once he sees my bump, his mouth lightly drops. "You..." He begins, holding a hand out. "You look amazing."

Leaning back against the counter behind me, I look away and harshly swallow, my throat feeling like it's being squeezed closed. "Spence..." I say the name I've always called him, but nothing follows it. I don't know what to say to Spencer at this moment, and going by the short silence that follows, he doesn't either.

"Why..." he starts, making me look back at him. This time, his tears are falling down his face freely. "Why didn't you tell me?" He finally asks, gently shaking his head. He truly doesn't realize, and even if I tell him, I don't think he'd understand.

"I know why you left," He explains, walking toward me with unsure steps. "And I-I realize that it was so stupid to talk about Maeve after we... we-we," Spencer stutters, making me shake my head as I bite my lip. "I never meant to send you away, (Y/n); I never wanted you to leave," He confesses, a tear trailing down his cheek. "That was the last thing I wanted you to do."

Once again, in spite of every signal my mind is sending me, I watch myself step forward and wipe Spencer's fallen tears away, his head leaning into my touch as I do so. With tears gathering in my eyes, I watch with bleary vision as Spencer lets out a shaky sigh before looking down at my bump and gently smiling. "It-It's mine," He states the obvious, making me smile as the tears finally fall.

Leaving my hand against the side of his face, I take his hand into my free hand and place it against my stomach, his warm fingers pressing against my belly with a softness I've never felt from him. "He is yours," I explain, emphasizing the sex to him. Instantly, he picks up on it and lets out a short noise of happiness, making me want to hug him to death, but I don't think I can handle that at this moment.

"Spencer, do you... do you want me? Have you... have you ever wanted me?" I ask him, his eyes instantly flickering up to meet mine.

"Every day of my life, yes," Spencer tells me, nodding his head up and down repeatedly. "My words to you about Maeve w-were not an attempt to tell you otherwise, I promise you," Watching as he shakes his head, I see him visibly struggle to swallow. "I just needed to get that out, and with you, I felt like I could tell you anything," He confesses, a few seconds passing before he shakes his head again. "And I felt that if I didn't let out my feelings, I wouldn't be able to move on, and then I wouldn't be able to give you all of me in my entirety because there is nothing I want more than that."

More tears sliding down his face, he leans down and lays his head against mine. Meanwhile, the tears haven't stopped falling from my eyes either, and even though I've felt hurt by Spencer for these past few months, I know he's telling me the truth. "I want you, (Y/n); you're all I've ever wanted," He tells me, crying even more as he shakes his head. "If you would have told me that I messed up that night by saying the stuff I did that bothered you, I would have apologized until the end of time for you. I would've done anything just to get you to stay."

At this moment, I feel guilty for not only what I've put myself through for these last months, but Spencer as well. I'm glad that he understands why I felt the way I did, but what I'm unhappy about is the fact that I was the one who wasn't understanding. For five seconds, if I had seen the difference in how he said his last words to me rather than what he was saying, we wouldn't be in this predicament. We wouldn't have been without each other, and we wouldn't have gone through so much by ourselves with no one to fall back on.

"If I wasn't pregnant with your baby," I start, my voice wary and slow. "Would you have still come back for me?" I ask, pulling my head away from his to look up at him.

In response, Spencer simply smiles and nods. "Even if you had left in the morning and told me goodbye, and you came here without our son growing inside you, I would have still fought for you with my life," He confesses, still smiling. "When I was young, I was stupid and I let you go without a fight," Spencer then shakes his head. "I don't want to do that again - I can't do that again."

Once again, I know that what Spencer's telling me is completely truthful and coming from his heart. For once, he isn't saying statistics or facts about what is going on around him, and instead, he's speaking up about himself and how he feels. He's not reading from a textbook or informative journal - it's all coming from him.

"I don't want you to do that again either, Spencer," I admit, welcoming his arm as he wraps them around my waist and slowly pulls me close. With my bump pressed against his practically non-existent stomach, I smile, feeling two little feet kick in response. My boy has never reacted like this when I've hugged people in the past - maybe he somehow knows who I'm hugging, and perhaps he's excited.

"I love you, (Y/n)," Spencer states, his other hand coming up to hold my cheek. Looking up at him, I see tears still flowing down his cheeks like before, although there are fewer this time around as his smile remains on his lips. "I love you so much, and I want you to see that so badly."

Spencer Reid - the man who avoids drama at all costs, rarely takes risks, isn't too great with social interaction, and who doesn't always show his emotions - is currently standing in my kitchen with his arms holding me close to him as he confesses his true feelings. At the same time, he's interacting with our son in ways he doesn't even know about, and for once, he's fighting for me by taking a six-hour flight to get to me and try to win me back. At this point, I never realized that it's something I've wished for with all my heart ever since I left.

"I do see it, Spence," I tell him, giving him a tearful smile. "I see it right now as we speak, and I see it looking back too," I add on, watching as his face never changes at my words. He probably doesn't believe me, or he doesn't want to because he's mad at himself for waiting for so long to do such a thing. "I see everything, Spencer, and I will always love you too," This time, my words do make a change occur, and I'm thankful to see it's a positive one. "Besides, I always have."

In response, his smile widens before he leans forward and plants his lips against mine. However, the kiss doesn't last long as Spencer soon pulls away and pushes his head into my neck. "Please, forgive me," He pleads, sounding broken like before. "Please, please, please," Spencer repeats the word over and over again until I speak up.

"Baby, I forgave you long ago," I tell him, only to earn a head shake in response.

"No, no, not just for this," Spencer murmurs, raising his head from my neck. Leaning above me, Spencer stares into my eyes while gently swaying us in our embrace. I don't think he knows he's doing it.

"Back when we still lived here in Las Vegas, I-I moved everything out of the apartment without telling you. I was in a rush to get moved into my dorm while moving my mom into Bennington that all I left was a note, a stupid note!"

Every word that leaves his lips afterward doesn't reach my ears. He left me a note? When I went into the empty apartment, there was absolutely nothing in there! If there was a note, then I surely would have seen it.

"Spencer," I cut him off from his rambling, and for once, he stops speaking. Turning my eyes up to his, I gently shake my head. "There was no note in the apartment. I-I went in, and every-single-thing was gone; it felt like you wanted me to feel forgotten, and it hurt."

Once I'm done speaking, Spencer leans down and places another kiss to my lips, apologies following afterward just like before. "I promise you, I left a note - I swear I did!" Spencer's words come out in a rush as if he were scared that I wouldn't believe him.

"It's okay, Spencer. I believe you," I assure him, nodding. "The owners of the apartment probably came by and cleaned up since there was absolutely nothing left - no furniture, pictures, curtains, nothing."

At that, Spencer shakes his head with squinted eyes. He then goes to say something, but quickly cuts himself off with a sigh. "No matter what, I love you - I loved you back then too," He confesses, his eyes flashing over to mine. "I thought for the longest time that you wanted nothing to do with me, hence why you never tried to see me."

If only he knows how far that is from the truth. For so long, I tried to find him. I searched everywhere online, but nothing ever came up except for old news articles about how smart of a kid he was. It wasn't until I joined the BAU that I realized why his online presence was so scarce - it was for his protection.

"I searched for you for a long time," I tell him, smiling at him as I reach up to cup his cheek. "But, I could never find anything on you. I never thought to look at our employee list though."

Laughing at my words, Spencer shakes his head at the irony before sighing once again. "I looked for you too, but I always got scared when I found you," He confesses, shaking his head. "I didn't think you'd want me meddling in your life."

Just like before, his words break my heart. There are too many damn things that have gone wrong in our relationship that could have been solved way before now. "Let's... let's not let another misunderstanding ruin our relationship again - please," I plead, wanting nothing more but to be close with Spencer without anything holding us back.

Liking the idea, Spencer smiles back and nods. "Let's," He agrees, leaning forward to plant his lips onto mine. As soon as he does, the baby boy in my belly begins kicking again, prompting me to place both of Spencer's hands on my stomach. Feeling his son kick, Spencer pulls away from the kiss to let out a mix of a surprised gasp/laugh, making me giggle with him. "I love you," He tells me, turning his smiling face back to me with happiness written all over it.

Smiling back, I lean farther into him with his hands still pressed against my swollen tummy, my head leaning against his chest. "I love you too," I respond, feeling as if the only things around me that matter are Spencer and our son.

Thanks to Penelope (who I doubt is even coming down here and is probably waiting for me to return to Quantico), I finally get to be with the person I feel to be my soulmate, once and for all.

This may not have been the way I wanted to start a family, but I can't say I'm ungrateful for us now. Finally, after so many years, things are cleared up and no longer blocking the possibility of Spencer and I loving each other. For once, we finally get to be with each other in peace and utter devotion - nothing else.

[pinkiipeachiikeen]

Feline Antics

Kuroo x GN! reader

This was the first thing I've written specifically to post on tumblr, and was originally on my other 'fanfic only' blog, pinkipeachiikeen (one 'i' after pink) but I decided managing two blogs was too time consuming and decided to merge with my original account (pansexualproblemchild) and keep the name. TDLR: it's def not my best work and if it looks familar, no I didn't copy anyone's work but my own

This fic was inspired/dedicated to @taeyamayang and her little black cat momo and my little black aria (mimi)

WC: 717

Summary: Kuroo tries.... and fails to convince y/n that he is a dog person with his cat like antics

“So what did you get?”

“19/20, beat that, loverboy.” I tease, shaking my phone at him.

“Read it and weep, honeybunch.” He dangles his phone in front of my face. “Read it and weep.” 

“What?” No way.  I snatch his phone. “Lemme see.” The four numbers mock me.

20/20. 

“I guess i’m just the better partner.” Kuroo gloats. “I could’ve told you thaAAT-” Kuroo ducks, almost falling off the couch, as i wack him with my stuffed animal, a comically large stuffed goose Kuroo gave me as ‘thinking of you’ gift since geese are small and cute. It Would have been sweet if he didn’t follow that with “needlessly loud and aggressive.”

I wacked him with it then too. Then named it Mr Honk.

“How embarrassing,” he teases. “After you begged me to take this little relationship test too.”

 “I didn’t beg!” I whine, crossing my arms. “I don’t beg!” 

He raises his eyebrow. Don’t do it. He smirks. “You sure did last-”

 “OH MY GOD!” I cut him off before my face can heat up anymore as he cackles. I’m dating a man child. “Whatever.” I scoff as I scroll through all the questions and my eyes finally land upon the damn question that determined Kuroo was the better partner. Question 12. Does your partner prefer dogs or cats? A simple question. A no brainer. Cats, obviously. Except the red ‘x’ too it says otherwise.

“Aha! That’s why!” I exclaim.

“Hmm? You found out why i am the superior parter?” he teases as he settles down next to me, feeling safe now that my weapon of choice (Mr. Honk) was out of my hands. I roll my eyes playfully. “You wish.” I tossed him my phone. “You pressed the wrong answer, dummy.”His eyebrows furrow as he retorts; “No, i didn’t?” 

“Yeah you did! You pressed ‘dogs’ instead of ‘cats’. Therefore, we tied!” I said smugly.

 “Except, I did press the right answer. I’m more of a dog person.” I roll my eyes  he explains

“Bullshit!”

“Wha-” he sputters. “How are you gonna tell me what animal I prefer?” he reasons. “Is this because I was the captain of Nekoma? With my suave graceful movements and agaile abilities?” He pridefully boasts, looking like the cat that got the canary.

 “Yeah the same agileness that broke three different lamps. Two in the same day, as well.” 

Kuroo scoffs, offended by the facts. “I’m tall, Y/n! My lanky limbs have to go somewhere!” He pouts, wiggling said lanky limbs for effect. 

“Yeah, but they couldn’t have been lanky anyplace besides right next to my nightstand? Or my coffee table, or my-“

 “Ok, Ok I get it!” He whines. “All of that only helps plead my case.” I state.

 “You mean the one that I’m a cat.” 

“Yes. Cats break shit left and right too.”

“Okay, left and right is a little excessive!”

“But not wrong. Let’s also talk about the fact how you hiss when I sprayed water on you.”

“Anyone would when you spray water on them!” 

“People don’t hiss Tetsu! You full on hissed like a vampire in the sun!

“….So like Kenma.” 

I pause for a moment. “A little bit, yeah I guess. He’s like a cat too, but that’s a whole different story. He’s like a old calico cat, just minding his business while you are a little scrappy black cat. Causing chaos and mischief.”

 “I’m not scrappy, i’m resourceful and resilient!” He corrects. 

I blink, once, then twice. “You’re scrappy”. I deadpan. “The scrappy little black cat antagonizing and teasing everyone always causing a ruckus and always needs attention and affection. No matter how much they deny it.”

 “I don’t demand nor need your attention!” He huffs. 

“Tetsu?”

“Yes, love?”

“You are literally laying on my right now.”

Kuroo looks down to realize that he is indeed laying across my lap and is silent for a moment, Before he snuggles closer into me.

“The fact that I’m laying on your lap means nothing.” He pulls up the blanket over his lap. “Now shh. I’m sleeping now.”

I smile and roll my eyes once more, something I find i’m doing more and more ever since my cat-like boyfriend (clumsily, and awkwardly)  waltzed his way into my life. “See? Demanding.” 

“Shh!” 

Thanks for reading! Reblogs, likes and comments are always greatly appreciated! ❤️

[whetstonefires]

What is your Hogwarts house?

I don't think that's considered a question in good taste anymore lmao.

And, actually, I never liked it much even as a kid, because sorting discourse did not adhere to the framework shown in the text. It consistently drifted to rigorous application of the ruleset laid out by the hat in its little song, which was blatantly called out as a convenient simplification about one page after the formula was originally presented.

Like. The fact that each cohort is broken down into four roughly equal pods and lineage is clearly a major determining factor, as is personal preference, is made clear very early. This is a cultural institution, that shapes the characters who grow within it quite as much as it's assigned based on their innate traits, and within the framework of which people actively look for identity elements to define themselves by.

People in my high school would be sorting adult fictional characters and doing elaborate balancing of their True Natures as revealed by their various plot events and defining life choices and patterns of behavior in their own generally dramatic canons and I'd be like. Okay, what do you think they were like when they were eleven though.

What were their values at eleven? What parts of their potential to be Like That were developed enough to show up on a psychic scan by a sapient hat, at eleven? What backstories are we assuming they're coming into this from; this man is a duke from fantasy medieval europe are we going to analogize him to a posh normie family, or the magic snobs, or are we dimensional-teleporting his baby self into wizard school?

Look, assigning Hogwarts houses to grown-ass adults on the basis of their adult developed identities doesn't make sense, that is very clearly not how anything works, this is a child-sorting algorithm. You have to apply it to children or it's invalid.

...also I was a Ravenclaw. I knew this. Everyone who had ever met me knew this. Any and every online quiz I was convinced to take knew this. I was so boring. I could not even make a serious case for my being one of the people who'd argue my way into another category I was minorly qualified for, or get there on family values or something, because I didn't want to not be a dumb nerd and my family is also dumb nerds. I was such an easy sort it was no fun at all, I was a walking stereotype.

It was embarrassing, is what it was. I was a flat character with no depth, rip child me. It was like if you could fail astrology by adhering precisely to your horoscope.

(My younger sisters wanted to be Gryffindor but consistently tested Hufflepuff and vice versa respectively, and I do not at this time remember which was which. The tests that gave you percentile rankings did give them minors in the ones they wanted tho.)

Anyway looking back on this in reaction to your ask, I find myself reflecting that House affiliation actually worked very much like gender, in that the way it was assigned was treated in-story as being based on absolute inherent qualities that defined a whole person, but quite clearly per the text actually worked by finding a schema you had an acceptable percent overlap with at a young age, and then setting you up to be perceived and instructed through that filter for the rest of your life.

The affiliation had meaning! But it was mostly meaning derived from the affiliation, and its social weight.

The ability of characters to find the sometimes deeply hidden Potential to live up to the person they aspired to be, thereby retroactively justifying the Sorting they had cajoled their way into, is like a major story element, you know?

I feel like this is yet another one of those places where rowling is a fairly gifted drawer of engaging caricatures; where when she was drawing on her actual lived experience (as opposed to hearsay and stereotype) to create something imitating that thing (in this case Belonging To Category) by intuition, the result would have nicely proportioned parts and some solid symbolic details, and work on an internal level more-or-less consistently, if not necessarily according to any strict logic.

Rather than being realistic it had a feeling of reality, which is in itself a perfectly reasonable way to approach light fiction. I often find myself wishing I could work in this more gestural manner sometimes, instead of drilling relentlessly down to detail.

The trouble is that things like those verisimilitudinous gaps between what people do and how they interpret their own doing, which lend the setting a great deal of dynamism, are only sometimes intentional, and the longer she extends any one bit and the more seriously she attempts to take it, the more likely she is to fall into the gaps and loudly deny that she has done any such thing, while digging herself into a pit of stupid.

[fantasy-things-and-such]

Meet My OCs: Tira

Welcome to Meet my OC, where I take a character from my WIPs and explain them in detail: who they are, what they do, and what makes them tick. today's lucky contestant is Tira from "Sunset".

Name: Tira Alderheart Nicknames: Candle Date of Birth: twenty-fifth of july, One-thousand fifty-nine AA Age: 20 WIP: Sunset Role: Main Love interst

Quote: “I want to burn bright, y’know? Achive something, leave an impact.”

Background & personality: who are they?

Tira Alderheart is the daughter of Selene and Cexi Alderheart. she has bright orange hair going down to about waist length and amber eyes. Tira stands at about 5'11. Tira is the oldest daughter in her family of primarily knights. her father, Cexi, is an instructor at the Ahri academy and Tira's tutor. she liked the idea of combat & picked up martial arts very quickly over swordsplay.

Tira has a optimistic outlook on life with a hard-working mindset. she was raised to be a warrior and fulfills the role of a combatant capable of becoming a knight. However, Tira was never the most academic. She picked up arithmetic fairly quickly but struggled with literacy. In fact, she failed the Literacy test required to enroll in the academy but was deemed competent enough for an exception to be made. It wasn’t until she met Lilli did her literacy improved. her familial connections and expectations made her very outgoing and extroverted, enjoying the company of her peers. she's also responsible and operates on a loose timetable, as her mother was often bedridden with illness. and, with her father often away from home instructing at the Knights academy, it was up to her to take care of her mother and the house. of course, she had help from other close family.

Hobbies

Tira doesn't have many hobbies people would consider interesting. she lifts weights and trains, while occasionally practicing playing her guitar. she's always happy to spar for the betterment of herself and whoever she's sparring with. she has a competitive streak when it comes to actual competition but doesn't mind losing.

Relationships

Tira loves her mom and adores her dad as well as her younger sister, who was turning four as Tira left for the Academy, and has many friends back home. she also has a good relationship with her extended family.

Tira is bisexual and actively sought a relationship, but was seen as unaproachable by many of her peers. she was a sparring buddy, a confidant, nothing more. When she meets Lilliwiess for the first time, she's amused by Lilli's skittish, guarded attitude, but respects her mental strength and ability to analyze the battlefield and her opponent. that, and Lilli is seven inches shorter than her: perfect cuddle size.

miscellanea facts:

her love language is food.

she has a fear of snakes

she loves high places

her favorite color is blue.

Taglist: @jakkon-and-rose-topic @angst-is-love-angst-is-life

as always, let me know if you like to be added or removed from the taglist, as well as any other questions you may have. thanks for reading. Cheers!

[oncamelliastreet]

ignore, i just have nowhere to put this rant and no one to tell it to and need to get it into space while i have a quick mental breakdown

i’m just so fucking stressed about precalc and i’m fucking fed up and i don’t know what to do. like i actually don’t think i can pass this class. precalc is like a combination of algebra and geometry, so it would be fine if it weren’t for the fact that my school had shit algebra and geometry classes that barely taught anyone anything. we don’t know the basics going into the class, and we were all hoping to get the old precalc teacher who is actually a really good teacher and could’ve helped us, but he stopped teaching it for some reason this year and hired a new guy who doesn’t understand that we really don’t know anything. like most of my grade failed this test, and he gave us a lecture on it and said that we cleary didn’t study enough and it’s unacceptable that we don’t know it because it’s prettt much review, but WE DIDN’T LEARN IT BEFORE HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO KNOW NOW. and i did all of the homework, i asked my sister for help every night and had her explain it to me, i studied for two hours the day before the test, and i still got a 50% (BAD). and my stupid fucking sister keeps texting me and asking me about when i’ll need help and what i don’t get and I DON’T EVEN KNOW. BECAUSE MY TEACHER DIDN’T EVEN GIVE THE TESTS BACK OR PUT THEM IN THE GRADEBOOK HE JUST SHOWER PEOPLE THEIR SCORES. and i don’t even think he’s gonna give them back, so i don’t know if i actually didn’t know anything or if the questions i didn’t get to because im a slow ass test taker came back to bite me in the ass and it lost a lot of points because he grades by partial credit and he can’t give partial credit to questions i didn’t even get to in time. the whole thing is just fucking fucked and i don’t know how to pass the class and there’s really no alternatives because i have to have four years of math and you can’t really go into stats without precalc and you can’t go into college algebra because college algebra is just algebra 2 and i took algebra 2 freshman year and i can’t take the same class twice. i’m just completely fucking fucked and my grades about to dip so bad and i’m not gonna be able to get it back up and i’m not even comfortable talking to my teacher about it because he’s such a fucking weirdo and he explains everything so fast which doesn’t work for me because i’m an extremely visual learner when it comes to math and i have to have things explained to me slowly and written down first or it takes me forever to get it and i never get his answers when other people ask questions in class because he gets super condescending and explains it to you like you’re a stupid person who should already know it except i am a stupid person who should probably know it but i never had it taught to me in the first place so i don’t know how the fuck i’m gonna start knowing it now and i’m just stressed as FUCK and i’m gonna tell my therapist about this tomorrow and she’s just gonna say “well have you tried asking for help” yes i fucking have it didn’t WORK i just don’t get it ill ask my sister for help and she looks at me like im a lost cause every time i dont know something and says that i should already know it and tells me to watch a video about it and it doesn’t FUCKING HELP and everyone is so FUCKING CONDESCENDINF BEVAUSE I KUSY DONT UNDERSTAND MATH AND IM CRTINF SO FUCKING HARD RIGHT NOW

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Never Tell, chapter four - a Malevolent AU

John was weird. John was a weird baby. He didn’t cry right. It almost sounded like an adult pretending to cry, or trying to recall how, using baby vocal cords. He didn’t look around and absorb the world like Faroe did. He just watched Arthur, if Arthur was in view, and it was hard not to feel a little judged.

Fortunately, Faroe was so charming that she covered her brother’s weirdness up.

Chapter four of Never Tell, a Malevolent Bella-lives AU.

AO3

----------

The horrifying bruise on Arthur’s arm healed by the time Bella came home. It was mean, that injury. That was the only word for it—not just purplish red, but practically rope-burned, as if it hadn’t been enough to just cause him pain, but the dream-demon had tried to scar him, too.

On the day Bella came home, Arthur got a letter at their front door. In a thick, creamy envelope, sealed with actual wax, it terrified him for no reason he could place.  He absolutely refused to open it, but was too spooked to throw it away, so it sat in the kitchen, mocking him to his face, while he and Bella tried to figure their new life out.

Arthur ignored it. He had to. He had no other choice. Besides, babies took time. So did father-in-laws with something to prove that no one, including him, understood. Daniel stuck around for a solid week. The babies needed something constantly. Arthur questioned his life choices.

The creepy guy did not reappear. So. That was good.

He couldn’t talk to Bella about all that. Whatever happened at the hospital left her thoughtful and distant, like she was considering something big. It felt like she had before she’d admitted to him she preferred women, two years before. That kind of big.

Well, pushing her wouldn’t produce results any faster (the opposite was true, in fact), so he focused, and took more gigs, and tried to make them money, and tried to be a dad.

#

Being a dad was hard, and they weren’t even fucking talking yet.

John was weird. John was a weird baby. He didn’t cry right. It almost sounded like an adult pretending to cry, or trying to recall how, using baby vocal cords. He didn’t look around and absorb the world like Faroe did. He just watched Arthur, if Arthur was in view, and it was hard not to feel a little judged.

Fortunately, Faroe was so charming that she covered her brother’s weirdness up.

She was the best baby. The perfect baby. Her little sounds were amazing; holding her, feeling her wriggles and her warmth, did something to Arthur’s heart that he lacked words to express. When he held Faroe, and smiled and sang to her, the world seemed like a better place.

Holding John was an experience, too, of course; it wasn’t as though he didn’t love his son. He just felt constantly like he was failing some daily test.

“I’m doing my best,” he informed his boy as he struggled with the romper they’d just been given by a kind neighbor. “How the fuck does this… oh. I see. Legs.”

The little dresses had been so much easier. This thing had leg-holes. Why? It just made them harder to change.

“Who designed this shit?” Arthur said.

John looked at him glumly.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Arthur said, and finally got him buttoned.

“How’s the Bean doing?” said Bella, approaching.

Bean was John. Peach was Faroe. Arthur had yet to discern why. “Scary as ever.”

“Scary!” Bella grinned and scooped up her son, taking a moment to coo at him and touch her nose to his. “Scared of a newborn. I swear, Arthur Lester.”

“He knows I don’t know what I’m doing,” said Arthur.

“Derision from a kid who doesn’t know what he’s doing, either? Hooey,” said Bella, bouncing John a little (and there could be no damn doubt he didn’t look at her the same way). “You don’t know. First time baby, yes you are! Figuring out this whole son thing, and lemme tell you, Bean, I got my eye on you,” she said, working on her shirt. “A little help?”

Arthur fiddled with her shirt so the kid could have his meal. “He’s not crying. How can you tell he’s hungry?”

“Because it’s time to feed them,” said Bella, and John got to work.

John had given Arthur looks before when doing this. Not today; he suckled hard, messily demanding.

“Hey,” said Bella, soft. “I’m razzing you. You know that, right? You’re doing fine.”

Arthur tried to pretend he wasn’t tearing up, but he’d never been good at hiding things like that from Bella.

“Aww. Buddy,” said Bella, and patted his arm while John hungrily worked. “You’re okay. We’re figuring it out. And kids are made of rubber. Look at you and me; we’re okay, and if anybody was gonna get screwed up by their folks, it’d be us.”

“Mine are dead,” Arthur said intelligently.

“Yeah, and you’re about as kooky as I am, so I’d say it didn’t make that much of a difference.” She tilted her head, pointed chin raised.

Arthur laughed softly and picked up Faroe, who squealed with joy. “I guess you’re right.”

“I’m right. So. Did you open that fancy letter yet?”

No, Arthur had not opened the fancy letter yet. “It’s not from the government, or anything, so we shouldn’t have to.”

“Shouldn’t have to?” Bella’s fingertips stroked John’s whisper-soft hair; he was determined to drink more, but falling asleep, fighting a losing battle between open-mouthed unconsciousness and demanding suction. “We should want to! I mean, what the heck? Maybe you’re inheriting some castle from some rich cousin you never knew about.”

“More likely, some weird rich cousin’s found out I’m a fairy and decided off with my head, and it’s a summons to an execution,” Arthur muttered, and swapped babies. He burped John (who sleepily protested the indignity) while Bella fed Faroe.

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s at least know what it is.”

It was two weeks old. Surely, if it had been important, he’d have gotten another. Or coppers at the door. Or something.

Arthur sighed. “Come on, Arthur,” said Bella softly. “I know you’re scared.”

“I guess I just keep waiting to get caught,” he said, still avoiding that weird dream (or whatever it was) he’d had. “So many raids lately. So many arrests.”

“Yeah,” she said, low, because it was true.

“I’m just afraid of losing everything we have,” he said. “The freedom to talk in my own home. These little guys.”

“If you’re afraid of losing them, it’s not so bad,” Bella pointed out.

Arthur managed a smile. “I guess not. Just crazy. Babies.”

“Well, enjoy it while it lasts, because we are not doing this again,” said Bella, burping Faroe.

Arthur laughed. “Gods, I hope not.”

“Will you open that weird letter already?” she needled.

Her grin gave him courage, and he went to see what it said.

It was scented; something herbal and smoky, something rich, hints of a scent he might have picked up in some of the swankier clubs, though he’d never seen who wore it.

It wasn’t paper inside. Too thick; parchment, maybe, smooth, and written on in dark, floral handwriting.

To Mister Arthur Lester, of 26 Cornflower Avenue, Boston: Greetings and Felicitations!

It is my pleasure to invite you to join a contest of peculiar skill to be held from May to December in the year of our Lord 1924, in which you have earned a spot due to the success of your song, So Queer.

This contest carries a prize which we know you will appreciate: an annual salary of $2,000.00 a year for the rest of your life.

This contest, called the Vulgtmog competition, is five hundred years old, hosted by the Stanczyk family—a prestigious musical clan who have been great supporters of the arts for generations. Let us reassure you, Mister Lester, this is no joke; as proof, we include train tickets for you and your family to Old Port, Maine, from where we will provide transport across the sea.

The contest lasts several months, and we are aware this is a serious investment on your part. Therefore, no matter whether you win, you will be paid for your time $100 a week for the duration of the contests, and expenses for you and your family will be covered. You will also be given recommendations that should help you acquire whatever position you need in the industry thereafter.

Again, Mister Lester, this is not a joke. Your music charmed the Stanczyk scion, and he asked for you by name.

We hope you will come. For questions, you can call the Syha'h embassy in New York City at MU 7-2678. Please accept this invitation. We look forward to your participation.

Sincerely,

Mason, Underhill, Coombs, and McFarlane, barristers and solicitors for the Stanczyk family, First of Their Name, Heirs to the Bygone Throne, Merciful of the Hand of God.

Arthur stared at it. “What the fuck?” he said so loudly that he startled John awake, and then had to deal with him crying before he could handle reading this weirdness again.

#

“But it’s got to be a joke,” said Bella, staring at the four train tickets, which certainly felt real, and were printed with a reserve date three years in advance. “I just can’t think of who’d go to all this trouble to pull one over on us. I mean… this cost money.” She held up the letter. “This is fucking vellum. I felt it when dad sent me to that weird nun’s school for a year.”

Yeah, the all-girl school because Bella had been caught kissing a girl. Arthur shook his head. There were times Daniel’s reasoning escaped him. “I don’t know anybody who’d do this. I’ve also never heard of this contest, or this family.”

“That’s it,” she said, standing. “I’m going to the library. I need answers.”

“So do I!” Arthur protested.

She understood the cause of his panic. “They just ate. They’ll rest. You’ll be fine. And besides: I’ve got the dimple.”

Arthur snorted, then couldn’t help his laugh. It was true: she smiled like a pixie with a perfect right-cheek dimple, and so far, no one was immune to it. “Are you sure?”

“I want to walk, anyway. I’m really sick of being convalescent.”

He sighed. “All right. It’s fair. I was out last night. And I… I need to be more careful.”

“Those raids,” said Bella, and shook her head. “The fuck is wrong with everybody?”

“I don’t know, but we both need to be careful.” Good people who’d never done a wrong thing in their lives were getting dragged to jail. It was horrifying.

Bella went on her toes and kissed his cheek. It was a sweet moment, warm; encouragement from the one person who knew him best. “Don’t fear the babies. They already love you.”

Stupid eyes, watering again. “Be safe.”

“Always.” She winked, grabbed her scarf and coat and hat and purse, and left.

Faroe was out, and he was grateful. He sat with John, who seemed to be trying to communicate purely through eyebrowless stares and pursed pink lips.

“Think you’ll like Europe? It won’t be my first time in the Old World,” Arthur said. “Not that I remember England all that well. Also, I have no idea where Syha'h is. See-hah? Sai-yah?”

John huffed as if to say neither was right.

“Sai-yuh-hah,” Arthur said, being silly.

“Ah!” John said, evidently liking how that sounded.

Arthur laughed. “Sure. Why not? Syha'h, with more sounds than letters. Makes up for Worcestershire, doesn’t it? Not to mention the entire French language.”

And John… laughed? Maybe? It was a laugh, but it couldn’t have been in response to that joke.

“That’s right,” said Arthur. “Your dad’s a genius.”

And that was the driest look anyone had ever given anything in the history of the world.

“Oh, stow it,” Arthur said, grinning, and yawned. “I’m putting you next to your sister, we’re all going to get a nap, all right?”

“Ah,” said John as though conceding a point.

Faroe slept on (happily), and John didn’t fuss at being put down. Arthur lay on the table next to them, cheek pillowed on his arms, and tried not to feel bothered that John unblinkingly watched him fall asleep.

#

Syha'h, it turned out, was a tiny monarchist country tucked away in the Carpathian mountains, near Romania. It was ancient; it survived various takeover attempts because of its unassailable location; and exported enough gold that it was a freakishly rich little nation.

That was about all she could find.

“Damn it,” Bella muttered, shoving the enormous book further away on the table. Nobody knew anything about it. Vaguely Christo-pagan like much of Eastern Europe, it kept to itself and didn’t really bother its neighbors. The Stanczyk family had sat the throne for generations (and nobody knew why it was called the Bygone Throne, either), and she could find nothing on this supposed music contest.

At least the country was real. It was also so obscure that she couldn’t honestly believe this letter was a joke. Baffling. So Queer had been good, absolutely, but had it been that good?

Well, it had made her cry, a little. Ostensibly about a regular couple breaking up, she’d known what it really was: the cry of Arthur’s heart, lonely.

He’d sung it so much better than Hoagy Carmichael. And while the check from that song-rights purchase took the boot off their neck for months, still. She felt robbed, that instead of putting Arthur’s version on the radio, the studios bought it off him and left him uncredited.

Just wasn’t fair. Arthur was a good kid. He deserved better.

She was distracting herself. Bella shook it off. They had three years to decide if they were going to do this. That was plenty of time to figure it out. Funny, though, she thought as she headed home, her walk brisk and perky. They’d sent four tickets. The fact that they knew there were two kids, in fact, was… not great?

The kids were weeks old. Surely something like this took longer to set up? How did they know there were two kids? Why would they assume no more would show up in the next three years?

Maybe it was just standard to send four tickets.

She stopped on the way home and scrounged some emergency coins to call the embassy in New York. Which was useless. The heavily-accented voice on the phone sounded like some advertising agency and swore up and down the contest was real, and the country was friendly, but couldn’t give more details. So that was that.

Frustrated, Bella went home.

#

Months went by, and they had this down. Bella was even able to pick up some work from someone who didn’t assume being a mother meant she wasn’t good for anything else. Old Moseley let her clean his fancy-schmancy mansion and paid her under the table. He was nice, if lecherous. Neither of them gave a fuck if he watched her ass while she dusted as long as he paid, and he did.

Arthur was glad they hadn’t taken Daniel up on any of his offers. Owing someone wasn’t how he wanted this life to be.

But none of that mattered right now! Tonight had been planned for a while. He hummed as he shaved, hummed as he carefully styled his hair, hummed as he added cologne.

If only John wasn’t so damned fussy. He wouldn’t calm down. Yelling at Arthur, a tantrum of vowels, losing his tiny mind if Arthur stepped out of sight. Just not John’s normal behavior at all. Even Faroe seemed baffled.

Arthur walked with John, bouncing him lightly. “I really am going out tonight," he said, turning it into a song as he spun, dipping John with a grin. "You’re gonna have to get used to it sometime. Your pop’s got needs. You’ll understand someday.”

John cried.

“What the heck, kid? Come on… it’s okay, you’re okay. Are you sick?” He didn’t seem to have a fever. There were no diaper rashes. “Come on, John…”

John clutched him, tiny fists wrinkling his freshly-pressed shirt.

Arthur sighed, and maybe he was nuts, and maybe he was overtired, but he jumped to a conclusion he’d been worrying over for weeks, and who could say which of them he was trying to convince? “I know it’s been scary out there. I know.”

John’s eyes were huge, and his head wobbled as if trying to nod.

“John…” Arthur sighed. “This club is safe. They’d never raid it. A senator goes there. They’re not going to arrest a senator. It’s the safest drag club in Boston.”

John sniffled; his little rosebud lips trembled.

Arthur felt uneasy. “I’m telling you, it’s fine.”

“Ah!” shouted John, gripping Arthur’s index fingers with his little hands.

“Have I lost my marbles?” said Arthur, softly, because he found himself inclining to listen to his newborn son’s warning.

Warning? It wasn’t a warning! He was a clingy baby, that’s all!

John scowled. “Aaaaah!” he commanded.

If Arthur hadn’t already felt uneasy, it wouldn’t have mattered. If Arthur hadn’t already been afraid, he’d just stubborn his way through. But this…

John was a weird kid. He was; and the scar on Arthur’s arm from whatever that guy had done was still dark and red.

Arthur swallowed. “You don’t want me to go tonight.”

John stared daggers.

“What do you know about it? You don’t even have teeth,” Arthur said pejoratively.

John huffed at him.

The unease in Arthur’s chest did not settle. “You want me to give up one of the only nights off I get.”

John just looked at him.

Arthur sighed and found himself jumping into insanity head-first. “If you’re wrong about this, and nothing happens tonight, I’m never listening to you again. Deal?”

“Ah,” said John as solemnly as a wedding vow.

“Lost my damn mind,” Arthur muttered, but John calmed down. Right down. Arthur wasn't going, so apparently, everything was fine.

He had both babies in a happy place when Bella finally came home. “Ding ding ding!” she said, lofting a bag. “We got steak!”

Arthur did a double-take. “What? Steak? Since when?”

She grinned. “Since old Moseley decided he had too much, and I was just too skinny, and so he gave us two whole steaks to take home for dinner.”

Arthur laughed. “Seriously?”

Bella waggled her hips.

They couldn’t afford steak. The way prices were these days (and getting pricier), even buying bread was getting painful. “Incredible. How rich is that old coot, anyway?”

“Come on! You’re not due to go for a couple hours yet. Help me cook this.”

Arthur snorted. “I can’t cook for shit. Last week’s chicken was inedible.”

Bella peeled off her outer garments and tossed them cheerfully to the sofa. “The edges were inedible. The center was fine!”

Arthur laughed. “You just want me to be the wife.”

“Like you don’t want to be the wife.”

Boy, was that full of meaning. “Can’t happen,” he said, grim.

She refused to let his mood sink them. “Come on, pretty boy. It’s time to learn how to cook meat, not just play with it. You and me? We’re gonna eat tonight like the queens we are.”

He couldn’t say no to her. The dimple was all-powerful. “You know what? We are. Fuck the world.”

“Now, you’re getting it. Fuck ‘em.”

His jacket and tie joined her coat and scarf on the sofa, and they retreated together to their tiny kitchen.

#

Too full, he’d said.

Not tonight, he’d said.

I can go next week, he’d said.

But he couldn’t. The Lavender Club was raided, and the senator arrested, and the book thrown at every single nance because an example had to be made.

Arthur lost friends, good friends. He wept, staring at the newspaper, his fingers dimpling the cheap print. Bella kept her arm around his waist, comforting in silence, scared into a quickened heart rate. What the hell was happening in this country?

John was a fucking baby, and couldn’t have understood, but Arthur absolutely knew that was relief on his face, and though Faroe joined Arthur crying just because of baby reasons, John did not, but held Arthur’s finger as if trying to provide another anchor, trying to provide what comfort he could.

Arthur still didn’t tell Bella about that weird guy, or the scar, or this warning. He couldn’t. It felt like if he did, he’d wake up, and life outside this horrible dream might be even worse.

That night, they slept cuddled—just for comfort, not remotely sexual—and the babies stayed quiet. The entire Lester family slept better than they had in weeks, all of them exhausted.

In the kitchen, that weird letter sat, tickets and all, and dangled its promise of an unknown future.

[cleverhottubmiracle]

If you purchase an independently reviewed product or service through a link on our website, SheKnows may receive an affiliate commission. Getting my three teenagers enthusiastic about school is like getting them enthusiastic about a root canal: virtually impossible. There is no jumping out of bed eager to get to class. Instead, there is protest … sooo. Much. Protest. This makes me sad — because when they were little, they were voracious learners, soaking up information like little sponges and seemingly enjoying the process. I hoped that this was a sign that they’d be lifelong lovers of information, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. Instead, I’m met with resistance at every turn these days. Why are they so apathetic about it? When did something they used to love turn into something that elicits such dread? I’m left wondering where things went wrong … where we failed them. I know I’m not alone in this; far from it, in fact. To provide parents of teens (ourselves included!) with much-needed insight, SheKnows called in the experts: We hosted a live event featuring Jenny Anderson and Rebecca Winthrop, authors of The Disengaged Teen: Helping Kids Learn Better, Feel Better, and Live Better. (You can watch the entire video here.) But maybe the most insightful part of the evening was when four teenagers from SheKnows’ own Gen Z Council — Clive, Santiago, Chloe, and Greta — joined the experts onstage and weighed in on a couple of very important questions: What do grownups get wrong about being a student today? If you could change one thing about school, what would it be? For starters, the stress of it all — a sentiment echoed by not only our other Gen Z panelists, but also the teens interviewed in the course of Anderson and Winthrop’s research. “I don’t know if parents always understand the extent of the pressure we can be under throughout school,” laments Greta. “It really does feel like sometimes you have to be ‘on’ all the time.” She wishes parents would appreciate the restorative value of taking a break, because burnout isn’t a feeling reserved only for adults (and in today’s “grind culture,” teens are more familiar with that feeling than ever). Greta says she’s “drained” after school and doesn’t want to jump right into homework: “I’m not gonna be able to put my best work forward, and I just think taking breaks is not having a bad work ethic, and I think it’s OK to do that sometimes.” Winthrop says those breaks, which she calls “radical downtime,” are absolutely essential. “Kids do need breaks, scientifically,” she says. “Taking a break is not a bad work ethic. It actually reenergizes you, makes you able to sustain effort longer.” Stress can lead to a lack of motivation, which is a true killer of productivity. “It kills the momentum that you have at the beginning of the year,” says Santiago. “At the beginning of the year, you’re fresh … and then stress just really slows you down.” Another de-motivator? Parents — or, more specifically, their reactions to less-than-desirable academic outcomes. (Womp, womp.) Of his own parents — and, I’m sure, just about everybody else’s — Clive says, “My parents think that when I get a bad grade, maybe I’ll get motivated to do better … or that it would be a wake-up call.” But in fact, it’s pretty much the opposite. “I feel like once I get one bad grade, I just instantly lose all motivation. … If I try at all at a math test and I fail, that’s kinda all I’ve got, and I get a little bit annoyed and stop trying. I go down a rabbit hole of feeling like I can’t do better than what I did last time.” Chloe admits she takes it personally when her parents criticize. “When someone brings [a bad grade] up you can feel attacked … and a lot of times it’s not just about school. … It’s about the ten other things you’ve got going on, on top of that test, and it can really feel overwhelming when someone nitpicks about one specific part of your life where you might not be doing that well.” In their book The Disengaged Teen, Anderson and Winthrop write that there are four modes of student engagement: Passenger Mode, where the student just coasts by on the bare minimum effort, often procrastinating and detaching; Achiever Mode, where a student strives for excellence, at the cost of extreme burnout and fear of failure; Resister Mode, where the student is often seen as the “problem child” who actively resists learning; and Explorer Mode, the ideal mode in which a student is engaged and pursues learning with curiosity and passion. Winthrop reports that in widespread studies, students who spend the most time in Explorer Mode get better grades. But getting to Explorer Mode is a challenge — especially, opine the teens, with the way schools are typically set up. “One thing I would change is that learning, and how school is set up, is for a very specific style of learning, and not everyone learns the exact same way,” says Chloe. “I wish we had more choice and we could choose the way that’s going to help us excel the best … because people have different styles of learning, and really forcing us all into this one box makes it so that there are people who are gonna really, really struggle.” Clive admits that a lack of choice leaves him feeling less-than-inspired. “I’m not sitting there wanting to learn … I’m just being pushed into these classrooms where things are being thrown at me, but I’m not choosing to go to these classes. I’m not choosing what I want to learn. I’m just getting through my day,” he says. “I wish I had more say in what I was learning, because I feel like when you’re part of the choice of what you’re learning, it’s a lot more important to you. You feel like you actually want to learn about it because that’s what interests you.” And Greta thinks that even school curriculums with the best of intentions fall short. “I wish my school were more flexible when it comes to the rules and requirements,” she says. “I think schools like to promote the Explorer Mode, but I don’t think they’re flexible enough for us to really be able to achieve that.” Hear more about what teens wish parents knew — and what changes they’d make at school – in the video above, and watch the full SK Conversations event with Jenny Anderson and Rebecca Winthrop here. Source link

[norajworld]

If you purchase an independently reviewed product or service through a link on our website, SheKnows may receive an affiliate commission. Getting my three teenagers enthusiastic about school is like getting them enthusiastic about a root canal: virtually impossible. There is no jumping out of bed eager to get to class. Instead, there is protest … sooo. Much. Protest. This makes me sad — because when they were little, they were voracious learners, soaking up information like little sponges and seemingly enjoying the process. I hoped that this was a sign that they’d be lifelong lovers of information, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. Instead, I’m met with resistance at every turn these days. Why are they so apathetic about it? When did something they used to love turn into something that elicits such dread? I’m left wondering where things went wrong … where we failed them. I know I’m not alone in this; far from it, in fact. To provide parents of teens (ourselves included!) with much-needed insight, SheKnows called in the experts: We hosted a live event featuring Jenny Anderson and Rebecca Winthrop, authors of The Disengaged Teen: Helping Kids Learn Better, Feel Better, and Live Better. (You can watch the entire video here.) But maybe the most insightful part of the evening was when four teenagers from SheKnows’ own Gen Z Council — Clive, Santiago, Chloe, and Greta — joined the experts onstage and weighed in on a couple of very important questions: What do grownups get wrong about being a student today? If you could change one thing about school, what would it be? For starters, the stress of it all — a sentiment echoed by not only our other Gen Z panelists, but also the teens interviewed in the course of Anderson and Winthrop’s research. “I don’t know if parents always understand the extent of the pressure we can be under throughout school,” laments Greta. “It really does feel like sometimes you have to be ‘on’ all the time.” She wishes parents would appreciate the restorative value of taking a break, because burnout isn’t a feeling reserved only for adults (and in today’s “grind culture,” teens are more familiar with that feeling than ever). Greta says she’s “drained” after school and doesn’t want to jump right into homework: “I’m not gonna be able to put my best work forward, and I just think taking breaks is not having a bad work ethic, and I think it’s OK to do that sometimes.” Winthrop says those breaks, which she calls “radical downtime,” are absolutely essential. “Kids do need breaks, scientifically,” she says. “Taking a break is not a bad work ethic. It actually reenergizes you, makes you able to sustain effort longer.” Stress can lead to a lack of motivation, which is a true killer of productivity. “It kills the momentum that you have at the beginning of the year,” says Santiago. “At the beginning of the year, you’re fresh … and then stress just really slows you down.” Another de-motivator? Parents — or, more specifically, their reactions to less-than-desirable academic outcomes. (Womp, womp.) Of his own parents — and, I’m sure, just about everybody else’s — Clive says, “My parents think that when I get a bad grade, maybe I’ll get motivated to do better … or that it would be a wake-up call.” But in fact, it’s pretty much the opposite. “I feel like once I get one bad grade, I just instantly lose all motivation. … If I try at all at a math test and I fail, that’s kinda all I’ve got, and I get a little bit annoyed and stop trying. I go down a rabbit hole of feeling like I can’t do better than what I did last time.” Chloe admits she takes it personally when her parents criticize. “When someone brings [a bad grade] up you can feel attacked … and a lot of times it’s not just about school. … It’s about the ten other things you’ve got going on, on top of that test, and it can really feel overwhelming when someone nitpicks about one specific part of your life where you might not be doing that well.” In their book The Disengaged Teen, Anderson and Winthrop write that there are four modes of student engagement: Passenger Mode, where the student just coasts by on the bare minimum effort, often procrastinating and detaching; Achiever Mode, where a student strives for excellence, at the cost of extreme burnout and fear of failure; Resister Mode, where the student is often seen as the “problem child” who actively resists learning; and Explorer Mode, the ideal mode in which a student is engaged and pursues learning with curiosity and passion. Winthrop reports that in widespread studies, students who spend the most time in Explorer Mode get better grades. But getting to Explorer Mode is a challenge — especially, opine the teens, with the way schools are typically set up. “One thing I would change is that learning, and how school is set up, is for a very specific style of learning, and not everyone learns the exact same way,” says Chloe. “I wish we had more choice and we could choose the way that’s going to help us excel the best … because people have different styles of learning, and really forcing us all into this one box makes it so that there are people who are gonna really, really struggle.” Clive admits that a lack of choice leaves him feeling less-than-inspired. “I’m not sitting there wanting to learn … I’m just being pushed into these classrooms where things are being thrown at me, but I’m not choosing to go to these classes. I’m not choosing what I want to learn. I’m just getting through my day,” he says. “I wish I had more say in what I was learning, because I feel like when you’re part of the choice of what you’re learning, it’s a lot more important to you. You feel like you actually want to learn about it because that’s what interests you.” And Greta thinks that even school curriculums with the best of intentions fall short. “I wish my school were more flexible when it comes to the rules and requirements,” she says. “I think schools like to promote the Explorer Mode, but I don’t think they’re flexible enough for us to really be able to achieve that.” Hear more about what teens wish parents knew — and what changes they’d make at school – in the video above, and watch the full SK Conversations event with Jenny Anderson and Rebecca Winthrop here. Source link

[ellajme0]

If you purchase an independently reviewed product or service through a link on our website, SheKnows may receive an affiliate commission. Getting my three teenagers enthusiastic about school is like getting them enthusiastic about a root canal: virtually impossible. There is no jumping out of bed eager to get to class. Instead, there is protest … sooo. Much. Protest. This makes me sad — because when they were little, they were voracious learners, soaking up information like little sponges and seemingly enjoying the process. I hoped that this was a sign that they’d be lifelong lovers of information, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. Instead, I’m met with resistance at every turn these days. Why are they so apathetic about it? When did something they used to love turn into something that elicits such dread? I’m left wondering where things went wrong … where we failed them. I know I’m not alone in this; far from it, in fact. To provide parents of teens (ourselves included!) with much-needed insight, SheKnows called in the experts: We hosted a live event featuring Jenny Anderson and Rebecca Winthrop, authors of The Disengaged Teen: Helping Kids Learn Better, Feel Better, and Live Better. (You can watch the entire video here.) But maybe the most insightful part of the evening was when four teenagers from SheKnows’ own Gen Z Council — Clive, Santiago, Chloe, and Greta — joined the experts onstage and weighed in on a couple of very important questions: What do grownups get wrong about being a student today? If you could change one thing about school, what would it be? For starters, the stress of it all — a sentiment echoed by not only our other Gen Z panelists, but also the teens interviewed in the course of Anderson and Winthrop’s research. “I don’t know if parents always understand the extent of the pressure we can be under throughout school,” laments Greta. “It really does feel like sometimes you have to be ‘on’ all the time.” She wishes parents would appreciate the restorative value of taking a break, because burnout isn’t a feeling reserved only for adults (and in today’s “grind culture,” teens are more familiar with that feeling than ever). Greta says she’s “drained” after school and doesn’t want to jump right into homework: “I’m not gonna be able to put my best work forward, and I just think taking breaks is not having a bad work ethic, and I think it’s OK to do that sometimes.” Winthrop says those breaks, which she calls “radical downtime,” are absolutely essential. “Kids do need breaks, scientifically,” she says. “Taking a break is not a bad work ethic. It actually reenergizes you, makes you able to sustain effort longer.” Stress can lead to a lack of motivation, which is a true killer of productivity. “It kills the momentum that you have at the beginning of the year,” says Santiago. “At the beginning of the year, you’re fresh … and then stress just really slows you down.” Another de-motivator? Parents — or, more specifically, their reactions to less-than-desirable academic outcomes. (Womp, womp.) Of his own parents — and, I’m sure, just about everybody else’s — Clive says, “My parents think that when I get a bad grade, maybe I’ll get motivated to do better … or that it would be a wake-up call.” But in fact, it’s pretty much the opposite. “I feel like once I get one bad grade, I just instantly lose all motivation. … If I try at all at a math test and I fail, that’s kinda all I’ve got, and I get a little bit annoyed and stop trying. I go down a rabbit hole of feeling like I can’t do better than what I did last time.” Chloe admits she takes it personally when her parents criticize. “When someone brings [a bad grade] up you can feel attacked … and a lot of times it’s not just about school. … It’s about the ten other things you’ve got going on, on top of that test, and it can really feel overwhelming when someone nitpicks about one specific part of your life where you might not be doing that well.” In their book The Disengaged Teen, Anderson and Winthrop write that there are four modes of student engagement: Passenger Mode, where the student just coasts by on the bare minimum effort, often procrastinating and detaching; Achiever Mode, where a student strives for excellence, at the cost of extreme burnout and fear of failure; Resister Mode, where the student is often seen as the “problem child” who actively resists learning; and Explorer Mode, the ideal mode in which a student is engaged and pursues learning with curiosity and passion. Winthrop reports that in widespread studies, students who spend the most time in Explorer Mode get better grades. But getting to Explorer Mode is a challenge — especially, opine the teens, with the way schools are typically set up. “One thing I would change is that learning, and how school is set up, is for a very specific style of learning, and not everyone learns the exact same way,” says Chloe. “I wish we had more choice and we could choose the way that’s going to help us excel the best … because people have different styles of learning, and really forcing us all into this one box makes it so that there are people who are gonna really, really struggle.” Clive admits that a lack of choice leaves him feeling less-than-inspired. “I’m not sitting there wanting to learn … I’m just being pushed into these classrooms where things are being thrown at me, but I’m not choosing to go to these classes. I’m not choosing what I want to learn. I’m just getting through my day,” he says. “I wish I had more say in what I was learning, because I feel like when you’re part of the choice of what you’re learning, it’s a lot more important to you. You feel like you actually want to learn about it because that’s what interests you.” And Greta thinks that even school curriculums with the best of intentions fall short. “I wish my school were more flexible when it comes to the rules and requirements,” she says. “I think schools like to promote the Explorer Mode, but I don’t think they’re flexible enough for us to really be able to achieve that.” Hear more about what teens wish parents knew — and what changes they’d make at school – in the video above, and watch the full SK Conversations event with Jenny Anderson and Rebecca Winthrop here. Source link