#i have a feeling some terrible fate lies in store for my boy

[ethercollective]

OH SHIT SO IS THIS GOING TO END UP WITH MC DUO BOTH USING SUKUNA'S TECHNIQUES VS SUKUNA????

[justfandomwritings]

By The Norns (Part One - Soulmate!Loki)

Pairing: Loki x Reader, Soulmates AU

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: Nobody was harmed in any way in the making of this story... but there was some arson.

Summary: She wasn’t a goddess. She wasn’t even an elf or a dwarf. She was a mortal, a Midgardian, a human. To Odin, she was a curse. To Loki, she was a second chance.

Notes: Don’t worry. Despite what the chapter and the description may make you think anyone whose read my stories before will know I am not a fan of soulmate aus that take away the character’s choice. This chapter is set up. Stick with me on this. I promise. Posted in honor of @muna1412​ being very excited at the prospect of another soulmate au.

This is not related to Loyalty in any way... I just have an unhealthy obsession with Soulmate aus. 

Fate was a funny, fickle thing. Loki knew that much. After all, he’d met her. 

Them, to be more precise. The Norns.

Urdr, Skuld, and Verdandi were their names: Past, Present, and Future, as they should be known.

It was they who watered the tree, and they who grew its leaves. The task fell to the Norns to write, shape, create, and control the fate of every being under the branches of Yggdrasil. 

A poor, dwarven craftsman working on the surface of Nidavellir, a beautiful, golden elf living on a hill in Alfheim, a meager, puny human scurrying around the surface of Midgard. It was they who made the dwarf rich, who killed the elf in his sleep, who let the human sow the land. They did not exchange the gold; they did not wield the dagger; they did not draw the plow. But it was by their hand, by their grace and mercy, that the worlds turned, that life waxed and waned, that the Realms drew breath. 

Every birth was through their will. Every death was by their hand, and everything in between was because they decided it would be so.

All fell under the gaze of the Norns. The kitchen cook, Andhrimnir, who served the Aesir’s table at night, owed everything to the Norns. They allowed his birth into Asgard. They raised him above the station of a lowly tavern boy. They gifted him the family he cradled so dearly to his chest.

Odin, King of the Nine Realms, Protector of Asgard, owed everything to the Norns. He was born by their choice. He survived a thousand battles because they said he would do so. He married Frigga because they put her on his path. His sons… 

Well, one of his sons.

Loki knew the exact moment Odin stopped looking at him as a son, the exact moment Odin chose Thor over him, the exact moment Odin turned his back on him, the exact moment his father marked him disappointment.

It was, like all things, the doing of the Fates. The Norns.

Fates were theirs to command from the highest branches of Yggdrasil down to its very roots. From king to beggar, slave to master, aristocrat to pauper, farmer to merchant, sailor to soldier. From Loki to her. She was their doing.

Love was an inevitable part of life. Not even the Norns, with all of the power of the gods and then some, could stop that. Humans, Aesir, Elves, Vanir, the sentient beings of the Nine Realms felt an overwhelming urge towards emotion, and one of the strongest, one of the most inevitable, was love.

They couldn’t stop it, but they could direct it.

It fell under the purview of Fate to decide who one loved. People, god and mortal alike, fell in and out of love all the time. 

Sometimes, though, every now and then, the Norns would reach down and touch two beings. The Norns would take two souls in two bodies and braid them together, weave them together, mold them together, as if they were one.

Those who knew magic well, those like Loki, could see them, watch them, doing this. 

They could see Urdr floating, invisible amongst them, deciding the pair. They could see Skuld, plucking up their souls. They could see Verdandi tying them together.

Loki watched them when they took his soul.

“Mother, Mother,” Loki tugged on his other’s silk skirts and pointed up into the rafters of the Grand Hall. “What’s that?”

Frigga followed her son’s gaze and gasped. Magic was not her proficiency, though what little she had she wielded well. She had enough to see the Norns, floating ghostlike in the air over her younger son. She had enough to see his soul in their hands, and another at their side. 

In the old days, before that fateful night, it was considered an honor to be chosen by the Norns. It was a guarantee of a great, powerful destiny in the future. It was a promise of passion, understanding, and respect on the horizon. It was the mark of one who would know true love. 

The Midgardians called them soulmates. The Aesir called them the destined. 

“The Norns have touched Loki,” Frigga whispered to Odin at her side. “They are gifting him a match.”

“With who?” Odin asked because he could not see them for himself.

Frigga squinted in the direction of the apparitions tying together Loki’s future. “I cannot tell. She appears to be…” Frigga’s eyes whipped around to Odin, “Midgardian.”

Odin turned up his nose and sniffed.

Midgard. The word, the world, that had sentenced Loki to a lifetime of second best. 

His ‘destined’, his ‘soulmate’, his curse.

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It was centuries before the soul tied to Loki’s found the body it would spend its own life in.

(Y/n), her parents named her. 

They weren’t sure why they named her that. When asked, they said they saw the name once in a book. Or was it on the tv? Or in a dream? 

Neither could really remember. All they knew was that, as she grew, the name suited her perfectly. Almost as if fate itself had chosen it for her.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

For centuries, millennia even, her soul had been lingering on the edges of reality, existing but not quite feeling. She floated through time and space, following the ties that bound her to existence, waiting.

By the time her soul entered her body on Earth, she had existed longer  than any other Midgardian ever had or would in all of history. She had lingered for years just out of reach of one of the most powerful beings on Asgard, her soulmate. Lifetimes had passed her by in the blink of an eye, and though she didn’t remember any of them, they remembered her.

Her soul hovered above its mate, basking in the magic that dissipated into the air around him like smoke. She breathed it in, soaked it in, drew it in.

In many ways, even subconsciously, she showed her age, her mate.

Even as a baby, she never woke her mother up screaming, to the jealousy of her mom’s friends. She was the model toddler, even through her terrible twos. She almost never cried and rarely threw temper tantrums. They called her a prodigy when she started speaking in full sentences before time doctors even expected her to be learning her first words, and they called her a genius when she learned to read full children’s books while other kids were still struggling through their first alphabet flashcards. Even though she ran around playing in the mud or splashing in puddles, somehow her clothes were always pristine. She taught herself faster than the teachers could and skipped two grades in elementary school alone. She was suspiciously charismatic for such a little girl and made, literally, hundreds of dollars off her lemonade stand. She listened to a family speaking another language in the store once and ran up to them to answer a question they had; when her parents asked her how she’d learned to understand or say that in another language, she had no idea what they were talking about and seemingly hadn’t even realized she’d done it. 

And yet there were other things, darker things. 

When she was born, the nurses didn’t question the little shock of static that jolted through them as they held her. No one commented how, in the right light, the baby’s eyes could look terrifyingly aware. She lied as easily as she breathed and almost never got caught. A girl made fun of her friend's hair once at school, and that night ended up being rushed to the hospital by her parents with all the signs of a heart attack in a five year old child. She liked having things her way, and even when her parents refused her, they always found themselves oddly compelled to do whatever it was anyways. She had an affinity for snakes that often found her letting them in the house. The pranks she pulled on her little brother sometimes got out of hand and often resulted in loud crashes and screams, though by the time any adult arrived nothing ever seemed broken. Her father used to joke that she must be some kind of shape shifter because he swore that, from day to day, her eye would change their color. Sometimes, when he looked in them, he swore they weren’t his daughters, but when he blinked and looked back they always returned to normal. 

Most of it was written off as the simple oddities of a child or exaggerations of first time parents. 

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Superheroes did not exist when (Y/n) was a child. 

It would be another decade before Tony Stark would stand on a stage and proclaim before the world, “I am Iron Man.” It would be even longer still before Peter Parker would put on a red and blue jumpsuit and call himself, ‘Spiderman’. Bruce Banner hadn’t even begun his research into the serum that would be his ultimate undoing. Dr. Stephen Strange was finishing up med school. Thor hadn’t made his presence known. Wanda had just been born. Hawkeye and Black Widow were still assassins working in the shadows. No one outside Wakanda had ever heard of the Black Panther. Vision hadn’t been built yet, and Captain America had been dead for decades. 

Even if they did exist, it wouldn’t have helped (Y/n). Most of them weren’t born super. Most of them became so by lab experiments or radioactive insects or training or technology. 

In the world (Y/n) grew up in, there were no superheroes. And if there were no superheroes... then what was she? 

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She was 12. 

It was her big day. 

Not her birthday, she didn’t particularly care about birthdays. Something about them just felt off to her. When she turned 11, she asked her mom if she could have two of those candles that were shaped like the actual numbers, and she’d put them pressed against each other on top of the cake. She ran around all day telling everyone she was 1,111. Some people laughed, but mostly to humor her.

That was why she hadn’t had a birthday party when she turned 12. She didn’t like people fake laughing. It felt like lying. She didn’t particularly mind lying herself, but she hated thinking that people were lying to her. Especially because she could always tell when they were. 

No, instead, she had this. The Science Fair.

She’d won first prize the night before. She knew she had because one of the judges had told her she’d won.

That morning, they would be handing out the awards, and she was so excited for everyone else to know the secret, to know that she was the best, even better than the older kids in her class.

The judges were walking up on stage, and any moment, once they got past the category winners they were going to call her name.

“In third place we have Jesse Martin with his project in the biology category!” 

A cheer went up that, judging by the pitch, absolutely must have been from Jesse’s mom. The other parents in the room clapped while Jesse ran towards the stage, turning red in the cheeks from his family’s overzealous encouragement. 

“Congratulations, son,” the Dean smiled as he bent down to shake the boy’s hand. The mike picked up a small bit of Jesse’s anxious thanks before he ran to join the line of winners.

“And in second place we have, (Y/n)! With her wonderful….” 

Second place. 

But Mr. Sellers, the science teacher had told her she won. 

Was he lying? Did he honestly think second place was winning? Was he just saying that to shut her up? Or was he being mean? Did he want to laugh at her when his real favorite won? 

The parents were cheering her, including her own. Her father was nudging her towards the stage, but she didn’t at all appreciate the gesture.

No. They told her she was going to win. 

Her face screwed up in pain, and she balled her hands into fists.

At the back of the room something exploded. 

A scream went out. 

“Fire!” Someone shouted. “Fire!”

The poster boards up and down the hall were catching fire. It jumped easily from paper to paper. It didn’t help that there was no smoke, for some odd reason. That the sprinklers, that the fire alarm, didn’t turn on.

Someone grabbed (Y/n) by the waist. Her father no doubt. 

(Y/n) barely noticed. She was still upset staring at the trophy on the stage over his shoulder. 

Slowly, before her eyes, it began to melt.

She smiled. Good. If she couldn’t have it, no one could.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

“She caused the fire.” He whispered, staring down at the floor in front of him with glassy eyes. 

“Wayne, that’s crazy; you know it is.” 

“I saw it with my own eyes, Elle. She clenched her first and suddenly Christina Danvers poster exploded. She gets second, and the first place project explodes the moment she throws a fit?”

“Our daughter doesn’t throw fits.”

“Not normally, but she did today. She was about to, and then everything caught fire.”

“Wayne, you can’t be serious about this right now.”

“She was smiling.” He whispered. “When everything burned down, she was smiling.”

(Y/n) listened silently from the hallway as her parents talked.

She loved to eavesdrop on her parents late night. They never knew she was there. It was another one of those odd coincidences of her life that (Y/n) was the only person in the house who never made the steps creak when she walked up and down the stairs. 

She was old enough to know what they were saying, what they were implying. It should’ve bothered her more than it did.

(Y/n) walked back upstairs, silent as the grave, and opened her closet.

She needed the duffle bag her father kept tucked away in the top of her closet, but she was nowhere near tall enough to reach it. As the door slid open, the bag teetered on the edge of the wire shelf and fell to the floor. 

“How convenient,” (Y/n) mumbled to herself. 

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“Hey Kid,” The man shouted at her out the window of his semi-truck. “What’re you doin’ out here at night? It ain’t safe!” 

(Y/n) shrugged. “Not safe at home either.” 

The man gave her an understanding look. 

(Y/n) watched him carefully as he opened the door of his rig and offered her a hand. 

Her mother had always told her not to talk to strangers, but (Y/n) had found she could always tell what people wanted. Besides, she was pretty sure she was a greater danger to them than they were to her. 

“Where ya’ headed?” The man asked.

“West.”

“I can take ya’ as far as Texas.” He offered. 

(Y/n) hopped off the curb and grabbed the man’s offered hand, hauling herself up into the passenger seat. 

She didn’t know where she was going or why she was going there. But something inside of her told her she had somewhere to be.

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Next Time On.... Part Two

Thank you very much for reading! I hope you all enjoyed. I have just come back from a hiatus and a great deal of why I went on said hiatus was the stress of managing ‘added features’ for lack of a better expression. I like writing. I don’t like formatting or managing the blog side of things. 

As such, no taglists. Please don’t ask me to be on a taglist. Keeping track of it stresses me out too much. I don’t feel like doing it. I don’t appreciate being pressured into doing it. In the olden days of tumblr, people used to follow each other, and I promise you that feature still works. If you follow me you will see part two when it’s posted. 

[anarcoqueer1994]

No More Dates

It was the summer of 1933, and Steve had just turned 15 years old. He is sitting in his kitchen with his ma, as she cooks. He's doodling on a scrap of paper when behind him he hears the door open; Bucky. Sarah never minded the brunette busting in without knocking. She sees him like another one of her kids and loves that her son has such a good friend. 

Steve hears Bucky walk up behind him, feeling Bucky's strong arm wrap around his shoulder. Steve has to focus on not blushing. Ever since his friend has started down at the docks, his already handsome body has taken on harder lines and muscles. It was not helping Steve’s massive crush on him one bit.

 He is broken out of his thoughts when the other boy starts to speak. "Good evening, Mrs. Rogers." He smiles at the blond woman at the stove. She smiles back and waves slightly.

He turns his attention to Steve. "Hey, Stevie. What'cha drawing?" Bucky looks down at the paper which Steve tries to hide. He isn't quick enough. Bucky sees. "This is good." Buck beams at the hastily sketched lips on the page. Luckily for Steve, he doesn't realize those are his lips.

"Uh, thanks Buck." Steve flashes a little smile back before turning the paper over, giving his full attention to the older boy.

"So listen Stevie, want to go out with me tonight?" Steve's  hands suddenly get sweaty. What does Bucky mean, out tonight? With him, like a date. They can't do this, two guys. Bucky sees Steve’s panic stricken face. He asks "What's  wrong? Please tell me you don’t have a shift at Mr. Green's do you?" Mr. Green owned a grocery store where Steve would bag at, one of the only places that would hire him. Bucky continues. "Please say you don't, I got us two pretty dames looking for a good time."

Oh. Steve thinks. Of course Bucky wasn’t talking about going out with him. Why would he? He got them a double date. He doesn't particularly want to go. Over the last few months, Bucky has gotten them all these double dates. But they all end up the same. Whatever poor girl who is his date, politely conducts herself but she always is more enthralled with Bucky. Oftentimes the girl only says yes to a date with him so her friend could get a date with the other man, since Bucky has made it clear that he won't go out with anyone if Steve can’t come.

But Steve would watch as the girls would whisper between themselves, teenage girls tending to not be discrete. He would see them giggle and bat their eyes at his friend, when the most he would get is an obligatory smile. He can't blame them though, he wasn’t much to look at, not like Bucky.  Steve swore Bucky was the picture  perfect man. To be honest, he catches himself staring at his friend too, jealousy  often washing over him when he would see Bucky's  hand wrapped around a girl's waist, pulling her close. He wishes Bucky could hold him like that; wanted to hold him like that back.

"No, I worked this morning. But Buck...you didn't need to get me a date. You go on and have fun. Plus I promised Ma I would help clean the oven tonight." He lies lamely.

Bucky frowns but nods his head. "Alright, Stevie…" He sounds disappointed.

Sarah, hearing the lie, shakes her head, careful not to embarrass her son while still not letting him off the hook. "It's alright, Steve. I got the oven. Just go have fun, tonight." Sarah doesn’t want her boy sitting at home. She knows that her son is a little...funny. And she knows she will always love her son no matter who he loves. But their church and society could be mean. She didn’t  want her Steve facing that. She hopes that with these dates he can find a nice girl. 

Bucky's face lights up.  "Perfect! Thanks Mrs. Rogers!" He smiles at Steve and heads to the door. 'Be ready in an hour, okay?"

"Sure Buck…" Steve says unenthusiastically as the older boy leaves. He sighs before putting his head down in his arm on the table. 

"Steve…" Sarah says softly. "It'll be fun. Maybe the girl will be nice."

Steve picks his head up slightly to look at his mom. "Ma, it always is the same. The poor girl who gets stuck with me has no interest. And why should she? Look at me."

She puts a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Baby, you're very handsome and any one would be lucky to be "stuck with you."

"You have to say that, you are my mom. I look like those yappy dogs with the big head and tiny body. I am nobody's type." He mopes.

"Steven Grant Rogers, you stop that right now. You are going on this date tonight and you are going to have fun." She says sternly.

Steve knows there is not a use in arguing with her so he just nods and resides himself to his fate.

~

Sarah had pulled out Steve's dad's  

old grey suit, insisting on dressing the boy well for his date. He felt ridiculous, everything slightly too big. He should be used to that, all of his clothes fit like that. He wore the jacket unbuttoned hoping it would be less obvious about how too big it was. His mother let him use some of the little colgne she had, stored away from her late husband. She said he was perfect.  He knew otherwise.

He meets Bucky at the bottom of the steps of his tenement. Bucky, of course, looks flawless, hair slicked back, effortless handsome, with button down shirt rolled to his elbows. Steve thinks he is the most beautiful man he has ever seen. And then Bucky smiles. A smile Steve cherishes as it is just for him.

"Hey Stevie" he throws his arm around his shoulder, pulling him into a half hug. "You look great!" 

Steve blushes. "You're lying but thanks, so do you, pal."

Bucky wants to argue. He wants to tell him he's wrong because Steve always looked great, always looked perfect to him but knows Steve won't  back down. So, he just smiles sadly at his best friend. "What are we going to do with you, man?" He asks as they start walking.

Once they get their dates, they head to a dance hall. Bucky's date is a pretty blond girl with bright blue eyes, Margaret, and Steve's is a redhead with green eyes named Dora. Steve is polite and is surprisingly light on his feet. Dora looks like she is having a good enough time as Steve tries his best to small talk with her and enjoy this date.

But it's hard because it is obvious that they both want someone else. As they danced, Steve would watch out of the corner of his eye as Bucky would twirl and dip his date, then pull her oh so close. There felt like there was something pushing down on his chest, making it hard to breathe. He hated himself for hating that Bucky was holding someone else. 

He tried his best to put on a happy face for his date, who had been nothing but sweet. But he noticed that she too was making eyes at someone else, a guy across the room right that she seemed to know, as he looked back equally as sweetly. Steve knew how it felt to want someone else, but unlike him, she had a chance.

He pulls her over to the table mid dance. "What is it?" She says softly. 

"You're a very nice girl, Dora. You have been incredibly kind and I have had a good time. But I'm not the one you want to be here with, am I?" Steve asks nicely, careful not to sound accusatory.

She looks down before saying "Am I that obvious? 

He laughs, showing her he is not mad. "Yea. Also... it looks like he wants to be with you as much as you want to be with him. So go and dance with him, have fun."  Steve replies lightly.

She gives him a pretty smile before surprising him with a hug, which he returns. She whispers "Thank you Steve." She holds him there a little longer before whispering  one more thing. "I know I'm not the only one of us sweet on someone else and for the record, I think he is sweet on you too." What Steve didn’t realize was that between his glances at Bucky, Bucky glanced back, an evening of missed gazes.

She pulls away and waves, without another word making her way to the other man. Steve is left dumbfounded, and terrified, and excited all at once. 

Most importantly he knows he has to get out of there, a feeling a dread that he gave himself away as a fairy. He knows she won't tell anyone other than maybe her friend...but what if others do find out. Suddenly it is hard to breathe, as he rushes out the door. 

~~

He ends up on the fire escape outside Bucky's room. The lights are out in the Barnes' residence,indicating that the family was asleep. He comes here a lot when he wants to escape. He guesses he is not that great at escaping since he always ends up at the same place. He sits with his arms wrapped around his knees, eyes shut.

What did she mean he was sweet on me too? How can she know that? How could, Bucky, the boy who has been chasing skirt like it was going out of style the last few months, be into him? They were just best friends, and he was just a hopeless fool who wanted to much. What if Bucky turned on him when he found out that Steve liked other fellas...liked him.

The last thought made him shiver, made him sick to his stomach, losing the one man that means more than him than the entire universe. A tear rolls down his face, before closing his eyes again. He is so focused on his thoughts, he doesn’t hear the window open behind him and someone step out. It isn't until he feels an arm wrap around his shoulder and pull him close that he realizes he isn't alone.

Bucky's voice is gentle as he whispers "Why'd you leave, Stevie?"

Steve’s  breath hitches in his throat as he feels Bucky's strong arm holding him there. He forces himself to talk "I...i just wasn't having a good time, I just wanted to leave…thats all."

Bucky's voice gains a level of worry as he replies "You wouldn’t be sitting here if that was all. Please tell me what's wrong...I would of left with you, Steve. When I noticed you were gone, I left immediately and searched everywhere for you. Your ma said you didn’t come home, so I knew you would be here. Why didn’t  you get me?"

Hearing the worry and sadness coat Bucky's  voice makes Steve feel terrible, unable to look up at him as he answers "Because, Buck, I left because of you…" another silent tear falls. 

"What..." Bucky sound confused, voice broken as he instinctively pulls away from Steve, scared whatever he did, he is making worse. "What did I do?"

Steve lets put an unamused laugh, silent tears falling more freely now as he looks at Bucky, who's  face is distorted with guilt and confusion. Steve just wants to reach up and smooth out his features back to the beautiful care free ones that typically live on his face. "You...didn't do anything, I did. I'm whats wrong here, Buck."

Bucky is torn between wanting to pull Steve into a hug and never let go and not wanting to scare away his friend by touching him, so he fidgets with his hands in his lap. "Steve that's impossible...you couldn't have done anything wrong." He sounds sincere, like he thinks Steve is perfect.

"You---" a strangle sob manages to escape. "You think to highly of me. I don't deserve it. Buck, remember when we were in school, and the other boys would call me a fairy because we spent so much time together….and I look like this?" Steve feels bad, Bucky would always stand up for him, the other boys always backing down. They never backed down when Steve would stand up for himself, often getting his ass kicked.

"Yea, those guys are idiots, still are. I work with some of them down at the dock." Bucky says plainly.

"No...they aren't, because they were right." Steve sound sad.

"What?" Bucky says again, confused more than ever.

"I'm a fairy...a pansy….I like fellas like you are supposed to like dames, Buck. And I'm so sorry….so so sorry. I'm so afraid of anyone finding out. It'll break ma's heart….everyone at church will hate me...God hates me….everyone will hate me. I'm disgusting…" Steve is shaking now, sobs freely escaping between words. He hadn't meant to say all this but it slipped out.

Bucky, unable to not do anything, throws his arms around Steve, pulling his head to his chest, gently petting his hair. "Shhh...shhh….its okay Stevie, s'okay." He repeats for awhile before whispering "If you're disgusting,  I'm disgusting." Steve gets really still in his arms, before tilting his head up to look at Bucky. "What?"

"I said, I'm "disgusting" too. I...uh like ladies, I do. I just like fellas too...especially...one fella in particular." He answers shyly.

Steve’s heart feels like it is on a roller coaster. In the same breath that he found out Bucky was also a queer...he finds out Bucky has eyes for a guy already.  Jealousy wells up inside of him, this somehow hurting more than a dame. Being a glutton for punishment, Steve asks "Who?"

Bucky laughs, arms still around his oblivious friend. "You, punk."

Steve’s heart is literally going to beat right out his chest qnd fly away. In disbelief he asks "Then why did you drag me on all those dates?" 

Bucky takes a deep breath, steadying himself. "I thought it was easier this way...hide how I was feeling and get to spend time with you, thought it was a win-win."

Steve clears his throat, pulling away so he can look Bucky in the eyes, Bucky’s arms still resting on his shoulders. "Not...not for me. I...hated seeing you holding other people...that weren't me. Do you know how many times I wished it was me in your arms, slow dancing. Because…I really love you. And I know people say that you can't  know love at 15….but I do….love is whatever I feel when I'm with you and---" 

Before he can finish, Bucky pulls him in for a soft, chaste kiss. Steve practically melts. This is is his first kiss, and its clumsy and sweet and everything he ever wanted.

When they break away, both boys smile like love sick puppies. Bucky smiles "I love you too, Stevie."

Steve smiles back "No more dates?"

"No more dates." Bucky agrees.

[gffa]

Every time I put together a list of STAR WARS fic recs, I keep wanting to add to it because, here’s the thing about this fandom, people keep writing more amazing fic. I’m especially fond of this set because it contains a whole bunch of novel/novelette length fics that made for incredibly satisfying readings, like, sure, we’re all worried about what TROS might bring, but it’s a lot easier to relax for awhile when I have twenty novels worth of fic to distract me. So, here, have a bunch of crying about some of the incredible fic this fandom has given us, before I decide, no, I’ll wait until I read just ten or twenty more fics (because I have them sitting on my reader to read already!) and cry about them at everyone, too. STAR WARS FIC RECS: TIME TRAVEL RECS: ✦ Legacy by myrlendi (thehistorygeek), luke & leia & obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & cast, time travel, 130k wip    Three months after the Battle of Endor, Luke Skywalker goes in search of a rumoured Jedi temple in a secluded part of the Mid Rim. He finds within the temple nothing but a strange artifact, which unexpectedly brings him much closer to the Jedi of old than he ever thought he would be. ✦ The Desert Storm by Blue_Sunshine, obi-wan & jedi & cast (too many to tag), time travel, 409.3k wip    The storm screams at him, and Obi-Wan Kenobi screams back. PREQUELS RECS: ✦ One Thing You Lack by maychorian, obi-wan & anakin, ~1k    Considering how easily Anakin wins at just about everything, it’s only fair that Obi-Wan have the best of him in at least one area. ✦ Adrift by Ripki, obi-wan & anakin & padme & yoda & palpatine & cast, 32.5k    In the aftermath of painful revelations, Obi-Wan and Anakin struggle to come to terms with the heavy price of secrets. But the war gives no respite and soon enemies are closing in, putting the Team’s honesty, loyalty and trust in each other to the test. ✦ Help me, Master by fireflyfish, obi-wan & anakin, 2.4k    Obi-Wan Kenobi watched in a kind of numb horror as Anakin Skywalker coiled his legs and summoned the Force to his command. ✦ Anamorphosis by saltyavocado, obi-wan/padme & anakin & cast, 33.5k    A distorted or monstrous projection or representation of an image on a plane or curved surface, which, when viewed from a certain point, or as reflected from a curved mirror or through a polyhedron, appears regular and in proportion; a deformation of an image. ✦ Knightrise by Deviant_Accumulation, obi-wan & yoda & satine & ahsoka & cast, 22.4k wip    “Strong enough to fight the Sith Lord, you are not.“ And just like that the fight drained out of Obi-Wan, the barely scraped together agitation running out of him like water from a broken glass. He looked at Yoda, the other Master already hobbling towards one of the back exits, his presence burning with focus, obviously expecting Obi-Wan to follow. ✦ Ensuring The Future by Shouting_at_God_in_Latin, obi-wan & anakin & mace & cody & yoda & cast, 44.1k wip    When both Yoda and Darth Sidious have a vision of the future, both send reinforcements to Cato Neimoidia. One fleet is sent to kill Obi-Wan Kenobi, the other is to save his life. The fate of the Light requires Obi-Wan to stay alive until years after the end of the Clone Wars, but can he even survive Cato Neimoidia? ✦ Rainfall on Geonosis by ealcynn, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & cody & cast, 33.9k    Obi-Wan Kenobi attempts to land his troops at Point Rain. Geonosis is not kind. ✦ Trust Fall by devilinthedetails, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon, 1.4k    Two generations of Masters and Padawans. Two generations of trust falls. ✦ Lay Me Down by TrickyTricky, rex & obi-wan & cast, 7.9k    War is hell, and the terrible fate that lies in store for the clone troopers casts its long shadow over them even now. ✦ -when skies are hanged and oceans drowned, by glorious_clio, bail/breha, 1.1k    Bail’s had enough, and goes home to Breha. They know just how to take care of each other. ✦ Something Borrowed, Something New by Raven_Knight, qui-gon & dooku/jocasta, 1.6k    Qui-Gon Jinn had only been claimed as Knight Dooku’s Padawan for three weeks before he’d managed to get himself into trouble with his Master. ✦ Vestiges by Quark_Logic, obi-wan & anakin, ~1k    While duelling in the Death, Obi-Wan tries to connect with Anakin through their old Force Bond, not really expecting it to work. OBI-WAN/ANAKIN RECS: ✦ not too particular, not too precise by AozoraNoShita, obi-wan/anakin & padme & ahsoka, modern au, 8.4k wip    Obi-Wan and Anakin both run food blogs and they have Opinions about each other’s recipes. Then it turns out they live in the same apartment building and they have the same friends and when they finally meet? It’s like a cooking competition meets a rom-com. Kind of. ✦ Upfall by bell (belldreams), belldreams, usomitai (belldreams), obi-wan/anakin & obi-wan/satine & ahsoka & cast, NSFW, 71.1k wip    Anakin is doing just about everything he can to hold himself together; it won’t last. ✦ Transactions and Negotiations by zarabithia, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, light d/s, 5.3k wip    Obi-Wan Kenobi is Anakin Skywalker’s favorite client. ✦ This time we’ll fall together by liv_k, obi-wan/anakin & padme & yoda & cast, 27.6k wip    In the aftermath of Order 66, Anakin Skywalker’s miraculous survival after his confrontation with the new Sith Apprentice Darth Vader ignites a sparkle of hope in the remaining Jedi, in the fledgling rebellion and, above all, in his former Master, who thought he had lost everything to darkness. But darkness is generous, and it is patient. ✦ Home by little_tales, obi-wan/anakin & shmi & mace & qui-gon & cast, NSFW, time travel, 39k wip    Time travel fix-it story with a bit of a twist. After his death, Obi-Wan wakes up on Tatooine, in the body of his padawan self. But instead of trying to prevent Anakin from Falling, he decides to change the future by stopping Qui-Gon from ever meeting the little Ani. ✦ After the Pillars Come Down by Virgo827, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & cast, 19.7k    Anakin, Obi-Wan, & Ahsoka investigate the death of a Senator, and an accusation against the Jedi Order. But as the shadow of their last offensive campaign looms over them, the Jedi find it harder and harder to come to terms with what the war has made them. ✦ In the Heat of the Moment by Gwendolyn (storiesofchaos), obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 5.5k    In which Anakin and Obi-Wan are stranded on some lonely desert planet, and what first appears to be a dull, annoying mishap turns out to be full of pent-up desire and feelings that come to light. ✦ Mutual Acquaintances by Ghost_Owl, obi-wan/anakin & obi-wan/satine & anakin/padme & padme/satine & cast, 36.6k wip    In which Satine’s distress call puts Obi Wan under Council scrutiny, Anakin offers to save her for him as a Totally Platonic Favor, Satine would like one good day, please, Padmé has everything under control, and Maul manages to cause an even bigger problem than before. ✦ Adrift and Entangled by WhiteMoose, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & padme & maul, some torture, 68k wip    After the Hardeen operation, emotions are raw. But before anything can be fully sorted out, the boys are sent to Christophsis for their next mission. Things don’t go as planned, and they find themselves alone in an unknown system with no hyperspace capabilities and no effective means of communication. ✦ Distractions by SingManyFaces, obi-wan/anakin 1k    Being distracted by Obi-Wan wasn’t anything new, but the circumstances always were. ✦ untitled by subskywalker, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, some d/s, 1k    “Remember dear one,” Obi-Wan reminded him as he pet his curls with one hand while the other stroked his cheek gently. “If it gets to be too much or if your need a break just tap our signal, okay?” ✦ The Seduction of Anakin Skywalker by DontCallMeShirley, obi-wan/anakin & anakin/padme & obi-wan/anakin/padme & cast, 20.2k    Anakin is falling to the dark side. Obi Wan and Padme concoct a scheme to bring him back. ✦ So Warm by amyfortuna, obi-wan/anakin, 1.2k    Anakin needs body heat. Well, maybe he needs a little more than just body heat. ✦ untitled by subskywalker, obi-wan/anakin/padme, sith!obi-wan, sith!padme, 1k    Anakin falls in increments and everything else happens in between. ✦ Dear Fellow Traveler by Glare, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, 17.4k    When strangers Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker both miss their flight, they become unlikely partners in the quest to get home. ✦ Satisfying Victory by zarabithia, obi-wan/anakin/ahsoka, NSFW, 3.4k    The Force gives and Ahsoka takes. (Or, Ahsoka goes back in time and is totally going to fix everything. But there’s another order of business to attend to first.) ✦ Cinnamon by birdcat, obi-wan/anakin, 2.4k    “Was it the same dream, today?” It took Anakin a moment to process Obi-Wan’s question. “Yes.” ✦ The Lives We Live Before the Present Moment by lyhoradka, obi-wan/anakin, 1.2k    The Jedi’s best-kept secret is that the Force lies. (Anakin finds Obi-Wan a flower.) ✦ Immortals by SingManyFaces, obi-wan/anakin/ahsoka, vampire au, ~1k    They tried to picture their lives without Obi-Wan, but they couldn’t. ✦ Soldier, Poet, King by Glare, obi-wan/anakin & qui-gon & dooku & cast, NSFW, time travel, d/s undercurrents, 102.5k wip    Second chances are very rarely given, but the Force smiles upon two of its favorite children and returns them to a time before their actions have met their consequences. ORIGINAL TRILOGY RECS: ✦ Yet Peace by theLoyalRoyalGuard, obi-wan & luke & cast, 3.7k    Grieving and unable to part with his best friend’s son, Obi-Wan raises Luke. Turns out, he’s pretty good at it. ✦ Hidden Relics by Burning_Nightingale, aphra & ahsoka, 1k    When Aphra goes searching for Sith relics on Malachor, she gets more than she bargained for. ✦ More Than Just a Treat by JessKo, obi-wan & luke & beru & owen, 1.3k    Beru and Luke bake cookies for Old Ben. REBELS RECS: ✦ we don’t have to have everything at once by Burning_Nightingale, thrawn/eli & thrass, 12.3k    Eli is reunited with Thrawn by chance on a mission for the Ascendancy; their changed circumstances give both the chance to voice things previously left unsaid. ✦ Lights In The Storm by Burning_Nightingale, thrawn/eli & faro, 13k    An Admiral being asked to investigate reports of smuggling at a tiny listening post in the ass end of nowhere would in normal circumstances be insulting - but Admiral Ballenrost is asking as a ‘personal favour’, and one does not turn down that sort of request from a man of his standing, even if one is the Imperial Navy’s most unorthodox and sole non-human flag officer. ✦ A Second Honor and Privilage by katsu, thrawn/eli & cast, NSFW, 10k    Eli and Thrawn smut held together with a thin veneer of plot. ✦ Dear by ambiguously, kanan/hera, fem!kanan, 4.8k    Kanan’s life has been a mess ever since Order 66, but now she has a new business partner and a new job to do. What could go wrong? SEQUELS RECS: ✦ Coneflower Honey by ambiguously, leia & rey & ben & finn, 3.2k    General Organa is seriously ill. The Supreme Leader of the First Order is the only person in the galaxy who knows what’s wrong with her. FULL DETAILS + RECS HERE!

[girlmeetsliv3]

Engraved

A Prince Of Nothing Drabble

"Escaping from me is impossible. Don't you see that you can't outrun fate?"

Word Count: ~

Ratings: Mature

Release Date: 11/13/19 6 pm (GMT-4)

The calm atmosphere of the bar eased your nerves somewhat. The drink you nursed in your glass had watered down an indication of just how long you had been sitting the lonely booth. You much preferred it to sit at the bar, it would draw for too much attention and you had enough of that to last you a lifetime. As you moved the glass you saw the brown liquor swish from side to side threatening to spill over every so often, but never doing so. A large sigh left your lips as you slouched over the wooden table. "Rough night?" The waiter set a glass of water right in front of you. You had forgotten people could be so nice.

"Rough life." You mumbled back, bringing the glass towards you and sipping on the straw. He probably thinks I lost my job or something. You had lost a lot more than he or anyone could think possible. You tried to glance at him in a discreet way, one that wouldn't require you shifting so that your neck might be exposed. On it hung a rather large pendant with a familiar crest hanging on it. Jungkook had agreed that letting you wear the diamond might have drawn unwanted eyes, but he hadn't let you leave the penthouse until he placed another collar on you. It was the same as every other: heavy, beautiful, jeweled, and with the Jeon family crest engraved. If the waiter saw it he was sure to stop speaking to you and suggest his coworkers do the same.

You couldn't blame him, it would've been a smart choice. But you longed for company and conversation with someone who wasn't the maids, guards, or tormentor. "A pretty girl like you live a difficult life? I find that kinda hard to believe." You chuckled humorlessly, continuing to sip on the water. "One could say my pretty looks are what got me into this mess." The waiter didn't answer and for a second you thought he might walk away until he sat before you. His features were chiseled, prominent and distinct. He wore a kind smile on his face. The button-down he wore had a plaque attached to it that read 'Lucas.'

Lucas leaned forward onto the table a soft smile on his face. "If it's a suitor that's giving you problems, I'm close friends with Lord Yoongi. We agree up together so -" You shook your head, causing him to stop talking. "Thank you but no one can save me. Not even lord Yoongi." Though lord knows he tried. Lucas furrowed his brows seemingly displeased at the lack of faith you exhibited. "Well then, I'll just have to talk to the guy." He joked crossing his arms in an effort to seem broader. A smile slipped onto your features, the first one in a while.

You felt a presence behind you and began to feel dread pool in your stomach. "Your highness, it's time to go." The guard spoke so loudly that everyone in the bar heard if, the calm ambiance shattering. Lucas looked from the guard towards you, confusion and a bit of fear in his eyes. You didn't blame him for the latter. Gathering your coat which had been strewn on the seat beside you, you stood up. The guard threw several bills on top of the table before escorting you out of the establishment. You could feel everyone's eyes as they bore into you - their queen. "Mark, please don't tell him anything." You whispered as he pulled open the door to the car. You didn't need to face Jungkook's wrath tonight.

"He already knows Mrs."

Jungkook was called to the city to do some business and insisted you accompany him. Not for any other reason than to string you along like the puppet you were. The penthouse the two of you were living in was state of the art. Tall glass panes, minimalistic furniture, abstract art, and photography. It was something no one in this world but he could afford and he rather liked that. You knew the second you stepped across the threshold that Jungkook was livid, the reason being that you didn't spot him anywhere. He wasn't in the parlor, kitchen, or even the bathroom. The only place left to check was the bedroom and you feared to go in there. After waiting several minutes by the door, you decided that it was best to rip the bandage off than give him time to think of other ways to torture you.

"Come in." His voice spoke out before you could even bother to knock. Opening the door, you saw Jungkook laying in bed. White silk pajamas adorning his body as he stared at you in a way that can only be described as predatory. "I'm back." You spoke, not sure what to say or how to avoid the inevitable. "Hmm. Did you enjoy the city?" He asked, his hand coming to rest under his head supporting it. You nodded, glancing around noticing all the bags strewn around. "How did your day go?" You asked, noticing the white paper bag with the name 'Florencios' on it; it was Hyunshik's favorite store. Your son loved the stuffed animals and toys that they made.

"I don't want to talk about that," Jungkook said, rolling his eyes before patting the empty space next to him. "Lay with me." You knew what that meant. "I'm dirty. I haven't showered, yet." You tried to make excuses but his glare spoke louder than words ever could. "We'll shower later. Lay with me." So moving as slowly as you could, you made your way to the bed. Taking off your coat, shoes, and subsequently everything but your loose camisole and underwear. "Where's mine?" You asked referring to your set of pajamas which were always folded neatly by your bedside. Jungkook shrugged, patting the bed again. That was your last warning.

You climbed onto the bed and lied next to him. Leaving almost a foot of space before Jungkook pulled you closer to him. His hands wandered all over your body. His touch was gentle, but you knew how he could go from a loving man to an aggressive, unforgiving beast in a matter of seconds. You resisted the urge to push him away, and run, as fast as your legs could take you. You longed to move away from him and be safe, but you didn't dare move a muscle. You couldn't.

Jungkook pulled you closer, both his arms wrapping around your waist, and pulled your body just the slightest bit on top of him so that you would rest your head against his chest. His grip on you was tight. His thumb brushing the bare skin just under the back of your neck. You were certain he could hear your heart racing, beating faster than humanly possible. You were nervous and scared, he reveled in it.

As your head rested upon him you felt the rhythmic beats of his heart and the prominent pulses of veins under his muscles and flesh. What is he thinking? What is planning? Jungkook was unreadable as always. The night was young, and you wondered if you would be able to sleep tonight. When was the last time you had gotten a full night of sleep? Or would tonight be the same as every other night? You hoped not, for Jungkook seemed to be in control of himself. Until you made the mistake of glancing up. Your eyes meeting his dark ones.

Jungkook licked his lips, lustfully. His expression was the perfect indication of his sexual stimulation. In fact, you couldn't just see the arousal on his face; but you could feel it. Pressed against your stomach. Hard and stiff with need. He moved his hand to lay on top of yours.

"What are you thinking?" Jungkook asked suddenly. The smile he shot as you were boyish and innocent. His hand traced soothing circles into yours. The image of him like this was almost serene. "Nothing." You replied. "I saw you visited several places today. Anything of interest you would like to share?" He was talking about the bar, about Lucas. Jungkook's jealousy was the worst of his traits. It only leads to disaster and though you wished there was a way to avoid it, there wasn't. Jungkook believed that your eyes should only be on him and Hyunshik whenever he needed it. It was a miracle he didn't keep you locked in a cage - anymore. "Jungkook -"

"No, I'm more interested in who that boy was...Lucas is it?" His tone was enough to have you cowering away from him, but his grip on you only tightened. "How terrible would it be for Hyunshik not to receive any birthday present because his mommy was misbehaving? He was so excited for his first birthday and now it won't happen." Tears welled in your eyes. "Jungkook please nothing happened. Don't punish Hyunshik, it isn't his fault. Please." Jungkook threw his head back in laughter, "God forbid the spoiled brat doesn't get a present." It was much more than that and you were aware. You reasoned that some part of Jungkook did love his son, for it was a part of him. But he loved Hyunshik mainly on the grounds that it kept you forever bound to him.

You were frozen for several minutes not knowing what to do or say, it seems Jungkook eventually took pity on you. "Come on darling. Make it up to me. If you do it right then maybe I'll only kill the waiter and not our son." Your breath hitched. The words rolled off his tongue with such ease, you wondered if he was even human. There was no denying you knew things would come to this eventually.

With dignity and pride pushed to the back of your mind, you placed a kiss on Jungkook's neck. You knew by now that reasoning and moral logic wouldn't sway Jungkook from his way of life, the only way to do that was to descend down to a physical approach.

Your hand lowered.

[getalittleclosey]

under 100k larry fic recs

hi! i’m becca and i read...so much fic. these rec lists are an accumulation of fic that i’ve read or reread and extra loved from 2016-now. there’s a wide range of stuff here and i think there’s definitely something for everyone!! i divided them up by length so you can check out all those categories below!

please make sure to read tags and warnings on all these fics!! the only things i think i can guarantee is that these are all larry, there’s no non-con, no age play, no eating disorders, no mentions of bg, they end happy, and they’re mostly aus. oh and they’re all on ao3 and some are locked so you’ll need an account! anyway i hope y’all enjoy!!!

under 5k

under 10k

under 25k

under 50k

100k+

☆ somethin’ bout you by missandrogyny 60k

Of all the government agents in the world, Louis had to go and land the most charming one.

☆ tug-of-war by cherrystreet 63k

Louis' husband dies suddenly and he is left with nothing. Well, not really nothing. He has Harry. And a St. Bernard puppy named Link, whom his late husband left behind for him. Louis takes care of Link and Harry takes care of Louis. Everything is okay until suddenly, it isn't.

☆ cameras flashing by juliusschmidt 82k

With his breakout single platinum three times over and his second album still selling out in stores around the world, Louis Tomlinson has made it to the top. However, his position as Pop Heartthrob of the Decade is threatened by the edgier, more artistic Zayn, who happens to be releasing an album a week after Louis’ upcoming third. Louis needs something groundbreaking- scandalous, even- to push past him in the charts. Much to Louis’ dismay, his PR team calls in The Sexpert.

Consulting with PR firm Shady, Lane and Associates pays the bills so that Harry Styles can spend his down time doing what he really loves: poring over data. On weekends and late into the evenings, he researches gender, presentation, and sexual orientation, analysing the longitudinal study that is his father’s life’s work. That is, until his newest client, the popstar with the fascinating secret, drags him off his couch and frighteningly close to the spotlight.

As the album’s release date approaches, will Tomlinson and Styles be able to pull off the most risky PR scheme of the millennium and beat Zayn in sales or will the heat of their feelings for each other compromise everything?

☆ home to you by crowsonthewire 54k

“If someone wrote that for me I’d probably be a crying mess before it was even over. I’m crying a little right now actually.”

It’s about you, Harry’s brain screamed. I wrote it about you.

Gemma appeared in the doorway then and dragged Louis away. With one winking smile he was gone. Harry curled up and stuffed his face into his duvet so he could cry with no one hearing.

**** At fifteen, Harry wrote his first song for an oblivious seventeen year old Louis Tomlinson. Ten years later he’s a singer/songwriter who cant find any words for his second album and Louis is a closeted actor tired of LA.

They both try to run from the things weighing them down and in the process, they find each other.

☆ fate don’t know you by sincewewereeighteen 99k

“Just. How bad is it?”

Zayn sighs. Shit.

“Not that bad, really,” he says quickly as he scans Louis’ face. “It depends, really. The freshmen are all right and I think you’ll manage just fine with the sophomores.”

“But?”

“Seniors are always shit because they think they rule the school, and this specific class of juniors… Well, let’s say you’ll find a real troublemaker there. Some say he used to be a soft kid, but- I don’t know. Most teachers just leave him alone.” Zayn shrugs. “He walks around with a tough crowd. Guess no one wants to take their chances with him. This is Chicago after all.”

“D’you know the name of the kid?” Louis asks, already very curious to meet said person.

“His name is Harry Styles.” The other man responds. “You’re in for a treat with this one.”

[Or: The one in which Louis always hears thunder when Harry speaks and sees lightning when he glances at him.]

note: this is student/teacher so if that makes you uncomfortable please skip! harry’s 17 but he is still a student so power unbalance and all that but from what i remember it was tastefully done. just like....don’t do that irl obv jfkdaj

☆ like an endless summer by objectlesson 87k

“You just wanna go fawn over Styles as soon as possible,” Zayn grumbles.

“I do not. Plus, he probably got ugly this year. Eighteen is an awkward time...I bet he’s got acne and one of those terrible fuckboy haircuts all the hipsters are getting these days, with the shaved sides? Just watch, the first year we’re gonna get any time together is gonna be the first year I don’t have a stupid crush on him.”

---

Or, Louis is a riding instructor at a summer camp, and Harry is a fellow counselor who he’s been successfully managing his crush on for the last two summers. That is, until Harry shows up this year leveled up and lethal, and all Louis’s formerly perfected veneer of nonchalance melts like a popsicle in the sun.

note: there’s a second part to this that’s 6k of pwp

☆ back to how it was by lululawrence 53k

Harry carefully stood up and was on his way to the window to look outside when he ran his hand through his hair, and it stopped entirely too soon.

He froze then began fervently patting all over his head. Where was his hair? He’d been growing it out for a couple of years now and it was finally almost to the length he’d had as a goal the entire time. How could it have gotten cut off overnight?

Harry rushed over to the mirror hung on the wall adjacent to the window.

Oh shit. What the hell was happening? Harry leaned closer and saw that not only was his hair cropped shorter than he’d ever wanted to go again, but it looked like he had the beginning of crow’s feet by his eyes. Those definitely weren’t there yesterday! And what happened to his tattoos? He still had some of them, like the star and the letters he’d gotten for his mum and Gemma, but most of the rest were missing and there were a few he’d never seen before instead.

What. The. Fuck.

Or the one where Harry goes to bed angry with his bandmates and wakes up in a universe where One Direction was never formed and he has to find a way back home. Home definitely has nothing to do with his best friend and bandmate, Louis. That would be ridiculous.

note: there’s a second part to this that’s 24k!

☆ when we were younger by dinosaursmate 76k

About a week after Harry started visiting this particular chat room, he was watching some kid argue with the whole room about football, personally disinterested as he tipped a bag of crisps into his mouth. He happily chomped on the crumbs, taking a swig from a glass of Ribena to wash them down, glancing at the screen and very nearly spat the squash back out again. His heart was pounding wildly. The display icon of the argumentative newcomer had caught his eye, and not in a good way. He gulped as he clicked the picture, and when it popped up in full resolution, his heart nearly fell right out of his arse. - Sixteen year old Harry Styles’ world turns upside down when he logs on to gay teen chat to discover somebody has stolen his photos and used them as their own.

note: there’s a second part that’s 3k ziam centric

extra note: you don’t want to know how many episodes of catfish i’ve seen

☆ like cabbages and kings by you_explode 61k

When Louis was a kid, he had a series of very vivid dreams about a place called Wonderland. There were rabbits wearing waistcoats and talking cats and ridiculous tea parties, and amidst all the absurdity, there was a boy. A boy with dimples, big green eyes and the sweetest soul Louis has ever known. Louis has always kept a place in his heart for that boy and for his funny dreamworld, and when he’s twenty-five and his life falls apart, it turns out Wonderland might not be so imaginary after all.

☆ knives don’t have your back by turnyourankle 51k

The lone survivor of an on campus massacre that claimed the lives of his four housemates, Harry is urged to take a sabbatical or transfer. Instead, he chooses to stay in school, move into the dorms, and overcome his fears.

He finds comfort in a budding friendship with Louis, an upperclassman who lives on his floor, not realizing that their relationship will bring him closer to his traumatizing past rather than further from it.

☆ loving you is free by littlelouishiccups 68k

Louis is a workaholic record label CEO who hasn't been on a date in nearly a year. Niall and Liam make an account for him on a sugar dating website as a joke. And then Louis meets Harry.

note: there are two other parts to this that are pretty much pwp. they’re 24k and 4k

☆  dance to the distortion by lis (domesticharry) 93k

Louis accidentally breaks Harry's camera lens and in order to get it fixed, they decide to participate in a romantic couples study. The only issue is that they are not actually couple. Well that and the fact they cannot stand each other.

☆ waiting on you by emma1234 77k

“Vampires,” Louis says with disgust, glaring over at the vampire who is noisily slurping from the woman’s neck nearby.

Zayn gives the neat fang marks on Louis’ neck a meaningful look.

“Can’t live with them, can’t live without them,” Louis finishes, ignoring Zayn when he rolls his eyes.

Louis takes a long sip of his milkshake, presses his fingers against the marks on his neck, and definitely doesn’t think about the vampire who left them there.

note: there’s a second part to this that’s 5k

☆ this wicked game by cherrystreet 70k

An AU in which The Bachelor is gay, Louis is a contestant, Harry is the bachelor, everyone drinks a lot of champagne, the entire world gets to watch them fall in love, and no one plays by the rules.

note: i’ve seen maybe five episodes of the bachelor in my life and hated it but i have read every larry bachelor fic 

☆ coax the cold by mediawhore 86k

England, 1897.

English Professor Louis Tomlinson’s passion for the occult has been a source of mockery and derision for most of his life. When he hears whispers of a travelling freak show newly established in London claiming the existence of a monstrous sea hybrid, half-man, half-fish, Louis sees it as his ticket to credibility amongst his peers. The summer he spends undercover working on the show, however, gives him much more than that.

☆ this feeling by orphan_account 59k

"Gonna play it back for you now." Louis clicked play and the song flooded through Harry’s headphones.

The sound of each others voices united into one, and the rhythm of the music carried their voices effortlessly. Harry’s insides tingled and a wave of shivers rolled down his spine.

Before the clip cut off, Harry turned to raise an eyebrow at Louis, and failed miserably at disguising his smile. Louis stared back at him in shock.

Or A Larry Duet AU

☆ love’s on the line, is that your final answer? by pearlydewdrops 53k

Harry can’t believe it when Louis, the boy he’s always had a tempestuous rivalry with, asks him to be his boyfriend. Well, pose as his boyfriend, that is—for a new television game show in which young couples are quizzed on how well they know each other for a jackpot of thirty grand.

Reluctantly, Harry agrees—because he's got student loans to pay off, hasn't he? What's the harm? And he can totally deal with keeping his secret thing for Louis under wraps too. This is all just to win some money. It's fine. No big deal. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, everything. Obviously.

☆ say your prayers by nothing_but 59k

Louis was left wondering what the fuck this encounter had been. Coming to this camp - especially after learning that it was a religious one - he had never expected to find himself in a bathroom with the attractive, strictly Catholic, not-gay-or-anything head counsellor making flirty remarks. Quite the opposite, to be honest.

Or the one where Harry, head counsellor at a Catholic summer camp, dedicates his time to what he loves most, year after year. It’s mostly the same every summer; the place, the topics, the games. This year, however, there’s a new assistant counsellor stumbling into his camp, and possibly his heart.

☆ i’ll crash until you notice me by stylinsoncity 61k

Louis sets off to Barbados to oversee the massive resort his family owns known as Sandy Hill. For years, he's been looking for a change in the monotony of his life, seeking adventure and perhaps love too. What he doesn't expect is the bright eyed boy who spills a milkshake on his shoes.

Cue the summer loving.

note: zendaya is listed as a character in this which desperately makes me want to reread it because i don’t remember that!!!

☆ nothing but you on my mind by nonsensedarling 84k

Louis Tomlinson is a PR manager hired to improve the image of royal bad-boy Prince Harry Styles. Unfortunately for him, that means being faced with the Prince's constant innuendos, incessant dirty jokes, and relentless flirting. Louis just wants to make it to Princess Gemma's coronation; once she's crowned Queen, his contract is up and he never has to see the Prince again.

☆ ghost note symphony by whoknows 96k

Louis is on tour when he first hears about it. It’s all over the news – Harry Styles Attacked By Fan runs in headlines for days. It’s not even just the gossip rags, either. Actual journalists are covering the story. It would have been impossible to avoid hearing about it. Technically, Oli is the one who tells Louis about it, but it’s not exactly being covered up. Harry doesn’t answer Louis’ text asking if he’s alright, but that’s not really surprising. They haven’t spoken for months, and it’s been a lot longer than that since they’ve had a real conversation. The sting of the text going unanswered is still there, less painful than it might have been a few years ago.

It’s not that it’s easy to forget about, exactly. Louis has a whole life outside of One Direction now, though. So Louis goes on with his life, figuring that if Harry was seriously hurt he would have heard about it by now. He might currently be in the same country as Harry, but being on opposite sides of it puts enough distance between them that putting it in the back of his mind is easy. There’s nothing Louis could do, even if he thought Harry might want him to.

That’s why everything that happens next comes as a complete shock to him.

☆ thinking about the t-shirt you sleep in by nonsense_darling 52k

Harry's alpha fraternity donates to a local thrift shop (because of Liam's latent crush on a cute beta in his lecture). Louis' financial situation (and confusing omega instincts) lead him to make some interesting fashion purchases. Lots of pizza, feelings, and not-really-lying.   

☆ here in the afterglow by fondleeds 89k

“If you hadn’t noticed, I don’t have many friends,” Louis whispers, the blossom of insecurity in his stomach unfurling and clawing its way into his throat.

Harry is silent for a long time, and then he speaks; a soft, slow uncurl that makes Louis’ stomach shake. “I’ll be your friend.”

-

1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

note: i can’t believe i waited until 2020 to read this...it was life changing tbh and i cried

☆ just call me inspiration by hereforlou 52k

The truth is Louis knows he’s going to hell, if there is such a thing, but it isn’t because he writes erotic fiction for a living. If anything, it’s because his muse, the reason he’s inspired to write about people shagging in increasingly creative ways everyday, is the sweetest, loveliest, most genuine (and completely oblivious) future children-book illustrator in the world.

(Or, the one where Louis is a writer, Harry is an art student, and they inspire each other in very different ways.)

☆ truly, madly, deeply (10 things i hate about you) by sunsetmog 54k

The first Louis had heard of Harry auditioning for X Factor was the night he'd turned up on Louis' doorstep the day before leaving for Boot Camp, with a DVD and an illicit bottle of vodka.

Thing was, Louis hated secrets, and he really hated being made a fool of, and he really, really hated Harry Styles.

or: the one in which they're all in sixth form together, and Harry auditions for X Factor without them.

note: this has always been a fav

☆ the impossible now by stylinsoncity 65k

A wish on Christmas Eve sends Louis to an alternate dimension where Harry is a member of One Direction.

☆ swallow the knife by whoknows 76k

“You came,” Louis says, still breathless, clinging to Harry, uncaring that his sweat is getting all over Harry’s presumably clean dad shirt, or that he’s making Harry hold up all of his weight.

“Of course I came,” Harry says. He shifts, one arm curled underneath Louis’ arse, the other spreading wide in the middle of Louis’ back. “If I ignored you every time you pissed me off we would have stopped being friends a long time ago.”

Louis already knows that, of course. It doesn’t do anything to stop the pleased squirm in his belly every time Harry proves it, though. They fight like nobody’s business, both of them too stubborn to pull their punches when they’re arguing, and it used to get them in trouble, but they always make up.

Adrenaline makes Louis loose-lipped, and they both know it. He tightens his arms around Harry’s neck, buries his face in his hair. “I missed you,” he confesses, quiet. “Doesn’t feel the same up there by myself.”

note: i don’t even normally like non-aus but i have read this fic five times in the last nine months so. there’s that. 

extra note: there’s an 11k alternate sex scene here

☆ perfect storm by cherrystreet 80k

What do you do when your best friend asks you and your (now) ex to be the best men at his destination wedding? You can either tell him the truth, tell him you’re not together anymore, and deal with the consequences, or you can pretend you’re still together and roll with it, just pray you don’t spiral. Fake it ‘til you make it. You know, for the sake of the wedding.

Harry and Louis choose the latter.

☆ anyplace, anyhow, anytime by aimmyarrowshigh, colazitron 81k

Harry's going to audition for The X-Factor in a few days, he really can't use this persistent tickle in his throat. What's even worse is when the tickle turns into a full blown cough, and the cough makes him pass out only for Harry to wake up in a different world. And then another one, and another one, and another one. The only other person who seems to be as affected as he is, is a boy with blue eyes who keeps showing up in every single one of these worlds.

note: i reread all of aimmyarrowhigh’s larry fics this year including the 500k or whatever sheylinson verse and i thought about putting them all in here but like...felt excessive & i figured i’d give attention to a less well known one, plus this way we get colazitron too! 

☆ the second hand unwinds by kingsofeverything (fullonlarry) 52k

Louis Tomlinson is one of the first members of NASA's top secret Chrono Exploration Program. When things go wrong and he's sent further back in time than planned, he has no other option than to show up on his ex-boyfriend's doorstep.

☆ waiting for the tides to meet by nauticalleeds (metamorphosis) 60k

Louis lets out a deep breath, thinking about Harry’s soulmate. Thinking about how Harry’s soulmate is probably as beautiful as Harry, some person that Louis cannot compare to, and how the universe has chosen them to be Harry’s. Fuck the universe. “Fuck you,” he calls out to the universe. He’s aware of how crazy he sounds.

Maybe he is crazy, with how he’s falling for Harry. And fuck that, too.

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

Featuring a lovely cup of OT5, a road trip down the coast, and a scene where Harry eats a whole head of lettuce. Don't ask why.

☆ keep my candle bright by whisperdlullaby 79k

louis returns to his hometown after four years to find that the reverend’s son has done some growing up of his own.

☆ strawberries & cigarettes by dimpled_halo 77k

Harry looks up and immediately freezes. Next to Ms. Archie stands the boy from just the other day. The boy with the leather jacket and chipped black nails, that might or might not be sketched in the very book Harry has just placed on the table in front of him. The leather jacket is missing today, probably because they aren’t allowed as part of their required uniform attire, but Harry can still see the fading black nail polish on his nails, and eyeliner around his eyes. Harry’s mouth goes a little dry. This boy is so intriguing to him.

“Ye-yes, Ms. Archie?” Harry tries to play it cool, but he’s almost positive that his cheeks are burning red, and he’s relieved neither of them can tell how fast his heart is beating in his chest.

The boy seems to also recognize Harry, because his lips curve into a knowing smirk.

“Harry is at the top of his class. He’s your best bet at getting familiar with things around here.” She explains.

Louis nods, his smirk still very prominent on his face. “Thank you Ms. Archie. I’ll be sure to take advantage of young Harold here.”

*

Summary: Two stories, eleven years, and the two boys that never stopped loving each other.

[pulpwriterx]

CIRCLE OF IRON

PART 2 of 6: ANGER

Rey expected he would lock her up, as soon as they got to his ship.

But he didn’t.

Rey didn’t really understand her situation until she went with Kylo Ren to his private quarters, and saw maintenance droids finishing up the task of cleaning up a small room.

Bed, desk, circular window, window seat, bookshelves bolted to the wall, small closet with drawers.

This was her room.

“You may encode the door with your fingerprint. Then I will not be able to open it. Do you have any other clothes? Any belongings?”

“Just what I have with me.”

“Have you ever had a medical evaluation?”

“No.”

“Well, that can wait until tomorrow.”

He showed her where the bathroom was, and the common room, and his small private kitchen.

“You can eat whatever you want from the refrigeration unit. But you must be careful not to eat or drink anything that doesn’t come from here, or that I have not prepared. I have enemies. Now that I am your teacher? You have the same enemies. You can trust the water fountains. Nothing else. Don’t use the stove. I don’t like anyone cooking in my kitchen. Tomorrow you’ll have a medical evaluation. Would you rather have a droid or a person?”

Rey shrugged.

“You’ll also be measured for clothes.”

“For that, I want a droid. I don’t want any strange men seeing me naked.”

“Then I will assign my personal doctor to you, also. You can trust Talia, absolutely. I do. Go in your room, and I’m locking you in until I have seen my doctor. I don’t think I can trust you, yet.”

***

Rey had only meant to lie down on the bed.

But she was so exhausted that she fell asleep, immediately.

Kylo Ren’s voice awakened her.

“The door is unlocked. You can enable it to lock only for you, now. Come out, if you're hungry.”

Rey was hungry.

And she was stuck, here, on a Star Destroyer, with Kylo Ren.

She had made a deal, and she was bound by it.

In blood.

Rey suddenly began to wonder what the hell she was doing, at all.

If she'd had a home to go to, she thought, she would probably have found a way to escape, went back to it, and forgot the whole thing.

But she didn’t have a home.

Why is this monster in human form still being kind to me after I cut his face open? Is he the Great Beast and the Handsome Prince, at the same time?

Rey coded the door for her thumbprint and DNA, and then she walked out.

There was a long fiber bandage going from almost his forehead, down to his neck, and disappearing into the A-line black undershirt.

“I don’t understand you.” Rey said, bluntly.

Kylo Ren said nothing, he only busied himself in the kitchenette as she sat at the metal table.

“What do you want from me?”

“They’ve been at your mind, already. Telling you about their war. Their religion. Their path for you. Rey, you’re our only hope. I used to be their only hope. Now I’m Snoke’s only hope. Or so it seems to him. I don’t want anything from you. You have nothing. You are alone. I want to teach you how to use the Force, but more importantly? How to escape being used by people like my mother. And Snoke. Because they would use your loneliness and your poverty to manipulate you. I can see they already have. I would know. I let both sides use me and manipulate me.”

He turned away from the counter.

“I know you think these people are your friends. They’re not. I would know. This is my family. The people who raised me. My father, he doesn’t care about destiny, or the Force, but he didn’t care enough about me to save me from the rest of them. If they used me for their own purposes, what about you? With no home, no family, nothing but a spear and the clothes on your back?”

He turned back to the counter.

“You’ll have three meals a day, every day, a room of your own, clothes for every day, and you can take a shower every day. You’re not a First Order conscript, but I can get you on the payroll, as support staff. Let me be your teacher. Try not to think of yourself as a bird in a gilded cage. At the end of the year, if you want to go, I’ll give you a sack of Imperial Gold Coins, and a one-man ship, and you can take whatever possessions you want from your room, and go. Hopefully, even if you don’t want to join me? You won’t want to join them, either. The Old Man could use a good scavenger, in his business. Keep that in mind.”

“Why should you care about me?”

“I could talk to you about the way the Force has brought us together. That you feel it, too. I could tell you about the immediate attraction we had to each other. And that you feel it, too. But I have more dire reasons. I know you’re in danger of suffering a terrible fate. My fate. I used to be you, Rey. The Little Prince. The Only Hope. I knew when I was 14 or 15 that I wasn’t cut out to be a Jedi. But it was what my mother wanted. And my Uncle. And my grandfather, Anakin Skywalker, who people said I looked more like, every day. So, I kept trying to live up to their expectations. He was a Jedi. I was determined that I would be, too. You know how I found out that he was Darth Vader? The same way the Galaxy did. I was 17. It was a terrible betrayal, but it explained many things. Why my mother didn’t want a boy around who resembled Anakin Skywalker, physically, and in temperment. Why my Uncle looked on some of my achievements with fear. That’s when I found grandfather's TIE Fighter. And I began my own rebellion. I restored that TIE Fighter, and immediately flew to Tattoine, and shipped out on a freighter with a Mandalorian smuggler. Under an assumed name. The Old Man found me, and I was 18 before my Mother talked him into sending me back to the Temple. That was the first of many times that I ran away, in the next five years. I just wish someone had been there to tell me that what Master Snoke had on offer was just as false. I’d still be a free man. Now? I’m just another slave to the First Order. Only a little better off than the Troopers in my command crew. The sons of bitches took me from my family, and tortured and brainwashed me, and lied to me, too. Now I’m trapped, again, doing the Imperial Dirty Work. That is, until I develop the skill and the strength to get out. You don’t have to share my fate, Rey. And if I’m right, about my feeling…my feeling about our bond? We may be able to help each other escape the hideous trap of spending a lifetime as a slave to a destiny you didn’t ask for. And never quite understood.”

That was an honest answer.

Unsettlingly so.

I used to be you. The Jedi used and betrayed me. I found the Sith no better. They will do the same to you, if I don’t stop them.

Even if it wasn’t true, it was what Kylo Ren believed.

But there was some truth in it.

Rey knew from the sudden coldness in her soul that there was.

There has to be a reason that Han Solo and General Organa-Solo live apart. That he turned his back on the Republic, and has nothing to do with the Resistance. There has to be a reason that Luke Skywalker abandoned the world and disappeared. There has to be a reason that Ben Solo became Kylo Ren.

All of his bitter words are not just bitterness.

Some are the truth.

I have to try and separate the truth from his loneliness and bitterness and pain.

But those are part of the truth, too.

And then Kylo Ren put a plate in front of Rey.

Rey could feel her eyes growing wide.

It wasn’t as if she had never eaten a sandwich; well, not often.

But the two slabs of black bread had to be an inch thick, and in between them was a large chunk of nerf cheese, and slab upon slab of sliced nerf beef, etirely slathered in Rodian mayonnaise.

Not to mention there was an apple and a pear sitting on the plate.

Both.

Rey sat, looking in awe at the plate of food and then Kylo Ren sat a giant glass of blue milk in front of her.

He had a pitcher of it, two giant sandwiches, two pears and two apples.

“Look at all this food! How much food do you have?”

“More than even I could eat, in the next six months. Blame Chewbacca. He did most of the real work, raising me. I eat like a Wookiee. How the hell do you think I got to be this big?”

“Well, do I have to save some of this for tomorrow?”

“No. I have enough of my food stored on this ship to last a year. And if I eat it all before that? I can afford to buy more.”

“I can eat it all, right now?”

“All of it. You’ve been hungry all your life, Rey. Starving. That’s over, now. You'll be able to change your clothes every day. And eat all you want, at all three meals. Eat until you can’t move, if it makes you happy. And you can take a shower, every day. Or a bath. As long as you’re here, with me? You can have whatever you need. Just ask for it. Extra meals. Different clothes.  Extra blankets. Five pillows. Money. Books. A blaster. Anything.”

“Are you allowed to drink?” Rey asked.

“Of course. I’m a bad guy. I can drink, and smoke, and sleep with girls, even.”

Kylo Ren stood up.

He went back to the counter, and returned with a mug of Arkanian ale.

And a pitcher, for himself.

“Thank you. But I am entirely uninterested in what you do and don’t do with women.” Rey said.

Frostily.

“Which brings me to Wednesday. You'll have to stay in your room on Wednesday nights. I have a guest, on Wednesday nights.”

“What if I have to use the toilet?”

“Go out your door into the main hallway, and use the Women’s Officer's Refresher. She’s suspicious and possessive.”

“Fine. That’s just fine.”

Rey thought she heard Kylo Ren laugh into his pitcher as he drank.

***

The next day, a droid measured Rey for new clothes, in her room.

The doctor, a Twi-Lek female, also visited her, in her room.

She got an evaluation, and at the end, explained to the doctor that she had an unregistered contraceptive implant, and that there was something wrong with it.

“The order for treatment includes a new implant.”

Rey was glad when all that was over.

Not so glad that the doctor immediately shared all her findings with Kylo Ren.

“Your apprentice is in generally good health. She is somewhat malnourished. I would like to see her gain 25 pounds in the next two to three months. If you keep her to the Kashyyyki diet you eat, that will be fine, along with vitamin supplements. Also, there was a problem with a faulty implant of unknown origin. If you are on intimate terms with your apprentice, I must ask you to forego any intimacy for the next two weeks.”

“We are not on intimate terms!” Rey shouted.

“Is Miss Rey in pain? Will she need to rest?”

“No, there’s no need for bed rest. Will that be all, Lord Ren?”

“Yes. Oh, and doctor? My apprentice and I are not on intimate terms. You may go, now.”

The doctor departed.

“Before you accuse me, all the female officers and stormtroopers of the First Order who are unmarried and serve with men on spacecraft are required to have an implant.”

Rey had been about to accuse him.

“You’re a strange man, Kylo Ren.” She finally said.

***

Han looked incredibly pleased with himself.

“So, Ben is pissed off at Old Man Snoke. For lying to him, and brainwashing him and all that shit. He wants to kill the twisted old freak. Eventually. And he explained his ideas, about the Force to me. I didn’t get it, but Rey said Ben was a Grey Jedi. They kinda, you know, went for each other. And Ben wants to take care of Rey. Teach her about that Grey Jedi shit. Give her a home, and three squaresa day, and in a year? I’ll give her a job as my scavenger. Meanwhile, I will keep working on the kid, you know, when we do business. So, things will turn out fine.”

Han lay back in the pillows on Leia's camp bed, and closed his eyes.

Having taken care of business, with his wife, and negotiated a deal with his son, Han was just about asleep when Leia slapped him across the face.

“Hey?”

“You stupid son of a bitch! How is your own son smarter than you? And you just gave Rey to him? To save your miserable old ass!”

“Look, Your Generalship, you've only seen the kid about six times in the last ten years! I had him on my ship, and he was doing pretty good and you made me take him back to that Jedi school! The last time, he begged me to let him stay! You know how much sleep I lose, thinking about that? In the four or five years I've been doing business with Ben, I see him once a month, and until Starkiller Base? Never without that mask. He doesn’t even call me Dad. He calls me Solo. Like my name has nothing to do with him. And I live with that. Just so I can have a place in his life!”

“Does the money help? What about the spoils of sixty years of Galactic War?”

“So I like the money? I’m not in this for the money. Or the war. Or the Galaxy. I’d like to get my son back. Alive. And I think Rey’s better off with me, or with Ben than she is getting involved in all this shit. We tried this before, remember? It didn’t work.”

Han rolled over to the wall.

Then he rolled back.

“Why the hell are we sleeping on this cot in this tent when the Falcon's here?”

“I haven’t slept in a real bed for months.” Leia replied.

“Well, put your clothes on. Let’s go.”

“We’re not done talking.”

“I’m done talking. Look, you worry about the Galaxy. I’ll worry about the kid.”

“What if he kills Snoke and doesn’t come back?”

“Then Rey will be there. To convince him. Or to stun him in his sleep. Or put something on his food.”

“You really think that’s what’s going to happen?”

“Don’t you?” Han asked.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if it already has. Ok. Let’s go home to the Falcon.”

***

Rey spent the next week getting used to her new surroundings.

After that, Kylo Ren presented her with a schedule.

She would wake at 7, and they would have breakfast.

At nine, two hours of lightsaber training.

At eleven, one hour of combat training.

At noon, lunch.

At two, two hours of guided meditation.

At four, assigned reading and/or discussion.

Dinner at six, and then she was free until the next morning.

“If I am not present, I expect you to spend the whole day meditating and reading. But I will leave your meals in the refrigeration unit.”

Rey knew she should not use training as an excuse to attack Kylo Ren.

He had showed her nothing but kindness.

But she did it, anyway.

He made her angrier with his infinite patience with her infinite anger.

Worst of all?

Rey was actually feeling better, physically, and learning much about the Force and her abilities.

He never mentioned her taking a side, light or dark.

His training was focused on her discovery of both, within her, and to come to a balance between them.

Her anger that he gave her so little to hate came to a head during a hand to hand combat session.

No matter how hard she fought him, she couldn’t so much as get one punch in.

And that was what made her decide to punch her teacher in the balls.

As hard as she could.

He grabbed her wrist, stopping her just before her fist connected.

“No. Bad Rebel Girl. You have to kiss me, first.”

“My intent wasn’t romantic! Let me go!”

He let her hand go.

“I will be going on a combat mission, tomorrow. So you can have the satisfaction of knowing that I will get hurt.”

PART 3 of 6  TEARS

[verytamenow]

1-29 ( also... 30-50) 😝

Well....I said I was bored and can’t sleep and that still holds true so bring it on and anything else.

1. Did you wake up cranky? No, I woke up exhausted though.

 2. Would you date an 18-year-old at the age you are now? Gods, fucking NO WAY. But ironically I would have dated someone my age at 18 and would date someone 36 now at 27 so I am apparently fine with it if it’s me.   ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

 3. Do you prefer to be friends with girls or boys? I don’t really have a preference at this point, male, female, or nonbinary. Just interested in knowing good people regardless.

 4. Would you ever smile at a stranger? Yes??? Probably awkwardly because of who I am as a person. But yes.

 5. Can you commit to one person? Yes. I’m open to a polyam dynamic but I’m pretty take it or leave it on that.

 6. How do you look right now? Like I’m ready for bed.

 7. What exactly are you wearing right now? A too big Record Store Day 2018 shirt from Zia Records and a pair of black sleep pants with an Avengers logo.

 8. How often do you listen to music? Daily.

 9. Do you wear jeans or sweats more? Sweats, just because I can’t wear jeans at work.

 10. Do you think your life will change dramatically before 2014? Well, this got dated real quick. But my life WILL be changing dramatically before 2020 thanks to surgery.

 11. Are you a social or an antisocial person? I’m definitely antisocial (in the introverted way, not the diagnosable way)

 12. If the person you like says they like someone else, what would you say? Good luck? Or maybe just nothing? I haven’t have a crush in a hot second so I really don’t know but I’d like to think I’d want them to be happy regardless.

 13. Are you good at hiding your feelings? Over text or a call, yes. But my face says things before I can.

 14. Can you drive a stick shift? No but I want to learn at some point.

 15. Do you care if people talk badly about you? My anxiety does but I personally don’t unless it’s someone I care about.

 16. Are you going out of town soon? Yes! I’m impatient for it and the surgery and time away from work though not the recovery. Getting to hang out with Kristen a bit is also a big upside.

 17. When was the last time you cried? August. It was awkward.

 18. Have you ever liked someone you didn’t expect to? My ex, but that was more I’d been wondering if I was aromantic instead of demiromantic given my lack of feelings. 

 19. If you could change your eye color, would you? No.

 20. Name something you have to do tomorrow? Clean. Write. Go to the thrift store because basically nothing fits. Fold my damn laundry.

 21. Name something you dislike about the day you’re having. I can’t fucking sleep.

 22. Have you ever liked one of your best friends of the opposite sex? Not since I was a kid.

 23. Are you nice to everyone? I try to be. I’m not really warm and fuzzy but I try to be pleasant.

 24. What are you sitting on right now? My bed.

 25. Do you think you can last in a relationship for 6 months and not cheat? Yes, easily. I think there’s zero excuse for cheating.

 26. Have you ever wanted someone you couldn’t have? That’s just my history with crushes as a whole. I’m interested but they’re not.

 27. Who was the last person you talked to before you went to bed last night? Probably Kristen?

 28. Do you get a lot of colds? No, somehow, even though no one at my office takes sick time.

 29. Have your pants ever fallen down in public? No and now I’m worried that’s gonna tempt fate.

 30. Does anyone hate you? Probably. I’m kind of an asshole. I mean, the administration hates me for existing but I don’t think that’s what this question is getting at.

 31. Do you have someone of the opposite sex you can tell everything to? Yes.

 32. Do you like watching scary movies? No! I hate it. It sets off my anxiety.

 33. Are you a jealous person? Yes and no. I can get a little jealous, but it’s usually a minor thing. It’s worse if I don’t trust someone will stay.

 34. If you had to delete one year of your life completely, which would it be? Is this a “it never happened” thing or “you can block it out” thing? I’d erase whatever year my mom got cancer in that case but if we’re talking emotional effects, I’d take the year she died or the year I had basically a breakdown.

 35. Did you have a dream last night? No.

 36. Is there anyone you can tell EVERYTHING to? Yes. See question 31.

 37. Do you think you’ll be married in 5 years? I mean, I really hope so but it seems highly unrealistic at this point.

 38. Do you think someone has feelings for you? I hope not for their sake lmao. Up your standards.

 39. Do you think someone is thinking about you right now? No.

 40. Did you have a good day yesterday? I mean, it wasn’t terrible but I was tired.

 41. Think back 2 months ago; were you in a relationship? Ha, no.

 42. Is your life anything like it was two years ago? Gods no, it’s so so so different. I’m literally a different person and my life is better for it.

 43. If the person you wish to be with were with you, what would you be doing right now? Casually hanging out with Taylor, whatever that entails.

 44. What’s the best part about school? The part where I’m not having to go to it. Though I do probably need to go back.

 45. Do you have any pictures on your Facebook? I don’t even have facebook.

 46. Do you ever pass notes to your friends in school? I’m out of school, but I guess the equivalent would be texting friends at work and that’s a yes.

 47. Do you replay things that have happened in your head? Yes. Endlessly. Thanks anxiety.

 48. Were you single over the last summer? I’m single every summer ✌️

 49. What are you supposed to be doing right now? Sleeping.

 50. Don’t tell me lies, is the last person you texted attractive? Objectively yes.

[kaimaciel]

My Favorite Books of 2018

The Archived  by Victoria Schwab

“Each body has a story to tell, a life seen in pictures only Librarians can read. The dead are called Histories, and the vast realm in which they rest is the Archive. Da first brought Mackenzie Bishop here four years ago, when she was twelve years old, frightened but determined to prove herself. Now Da is dead, and Mac has grown into what he once was: a ruthless Keeper, tasked with stopping often violent Histories from waking up and getting out. Because of her job, she lies to the people she loves, and she knows fear for what it is: a useful tool for staying alive. Being a Keeper isn't just dangerous—it's a constant reminder of those Mac has lost, Da's death was hard enough, but now that her little brother is gone too, Mac starts to wonder about the boundary between living and dying, sleeping and waking. In the Archive, the dead must never be disturbed. And yet, someone is deliberately altering Histories, erasing essential chapters. Unless Mac can piece together what remains, the Archive itself may crumble and fall.”

The Death of Mrs. Westaway by Ruth Ware

“On a day that begins like any other, Hal receives a mysterious letter bequeathing her a substantial inheritance. She realizes very quickly that the letter was sent to the wrong person—but also that the cold-reading skills she’s honed as a tarot card reader might help her claim the money. Soon, Hal finds herself at the funeral of the deceased…where it dawns on her that there is something very, very wrong about this strange situation and the inheritance at the center of it.”

Still Me (Me Before You #3) by Jojo Moyes

“Louisa Clark arrives in New York ready to start a new life, confident that she can embrace this new adventure and keep her relationship with Ambulance Sam alive across several thousand miles. She steps into the world of the superrich, working for Leonard Gopnik and his much younger second wife, Agnes. Lou is determined to get the most out of the experience and throws herself into her new job and New York life. As she begins to mix in New York high society, Lou meets Joshua Ryan, a man who brings with him a whisper of her past. Before long, Lou finds herself torn between Fifth Avenue where she works and the treasure-filled vintage clothing store where she actually feels at home. And when matters come to a head, she has to ask herself: Who is Louisa Clark? And how do you find the courage to follow your heart—wherever that may lead?”

Nine Perfect Strangers by Liane Moriarty

“Could ten days at a health resort really change you forever? In Liane Moriarty’s latest page-turner, nine perfect strangers are about to find out... Nine people gather at a remote health resort. Some are here to lose weight, some are here to get a reboot on life, some are here for reasons they can’t even admit to themselves. Amidst all of the luxury and pampering, the mindfulness and meditation, they know these ten days might involve some real work. But none of them could imagine just how challenging the next ten days are going to be. Frances Welty, the formerly best-selling romantic novelist, arrives at Tranquillum House nursing a bad back, a broken heart, and an exquisitely painful paper cut. She’s immediately intrigued by her fellow guests. Most of them don’t look to be in need of a health resort at all. But the person that intrigues her most is the strange and charismatic owner/director of Tranquillum House. Could this person really have the answers Frances didn’t even know she was seeking? Should Frances put aside her doubts and immerse herself in everything Tranquillum House has to offer – or should she run while she still can? It’s not long before every guest at Tranquillum House is asking exactly the same question.”

A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles

“On 21 June 1922 Count Alexander Rostov – recipient of the Order of Saint Andrew, member of the Jockey Club, Master of the Hunt – is escorted out of the Kremlin, across Red Square and through the elegant revolving doors of the Hotel Metropol. But instead of being taken to his usual suite, he is led to an attic room with a window the size of a chessboard. Deemed an unrepentant aristocrat by a Bolshevik tribunal, the Count has been sentenced to house arrest indefinitely. While Russia undergoes decades of tumultuous upheaval, the Count, stripped of the trappings that defined his life, is forced to question what makes us who we are. And with the assistance of a glamorous actress, a cantankerous chef and a very serious child, Rostov unexpectedly discovers a new understanding of both pleasure and purpose.”

Heart of Iron (Heart of Iron #1) by Ashley Poston

“Seventeen-year-old Ana is a scoundrel by nurture and an outlaw by nature. Found as a child drifting through space with a sentient android called D09, Ana was saved by a fearsome space captain and the grizzled crew she now calls family. But D09—one of the last remaining illegal Metals—has been glitching, and Ana will stop at nothing to find a way to fix him. Ana’s desperate effort to save D09 leads her on a quest to steal the coordinates to a lost ship that could offer all the answers. But at the last moment, a spoiled Ironblood boy beats Ana to her prize. He has his own reasons for taking the coordinates, and he doesn’t care what he’ll sacrifice to keep them. When everything goes wrong, she and the Ironblood end up as fugitives on the run. Now their entire kingdom is after them—and the coordinates—and not everyone wants them captured alive. What they find in a lost corner of the universe will change all their lives—and unearth dangerous secrets. But when a darkness from Ana’s past returns, she must face an impossible choice: does she protect a kingdom that wants her dead or save the Metal boy she loves?”

Our Dark Duet (Monsters of Verity #2) by Victoria Schwab

“THE WORLD IS BREAKING. AND SO ARE THEY. KATE HARKER isn't afraid of monsters. She hunts them. And she's good at it. AUGUST FLYNN once yearned to be human. He has a part to play. And he will play it, no matter the cost. THE WAR HAS BEGUN. THE MONSTERS ARE WINNING. Kate will have to return to Verity. August will have to let her back in. And a new monster is waiting—one that feeds on chaos and brings out its victims' inner demons. Which will be harder to conquer: the monsters they face, or the monsters within?”

Uprooted by Naomi Novik

“Our Dragon doesn’t eat the girls he takes, no matter what stories they tell outside our valley. We hear them sometimes, from travelers passing through. They talk as though we were doing human sacrifice, and he were a real dragon. Of course that’s not true: he may be a wizard and immortal, but he’s still a man, and our fathers would band together and kill him if he wanted to eat one of us every ten years. He protects us against the Wood, and we’re grateful, but not that grateful.” Agnieszka loves her valley home, her quiet village, the forests and the bright shining river. But the corrupted Wood stands on the border, full of malevolent power, and its shadow lies over her life. Her people rely on the cold, driven wizard known only as the Dragon to keep its powers at bay. But he demands a terrible price for his help: one young woman handed over to serve him for ten years, a fate almost as terrible as falling to the Wood. The next choosing is fast approaching, and Agnieszka is afraid. She knows—everyone knows—that the Dragon will take Kasia: beautiful, graceful, brave Kasia, all the things Agnieszka isn’t, and her dearest friend in the world. And there is no way to save her. But Agnieszka fears the wrong things. For when the Dragon comes, it is not Kasia he will choose.”

Far from the Tree by Robin Benway

“A contemporary novel about three adopted siblings who find each other at just the right moment. Being the middle child has its ups and downs. But for Grace, an only child who was adopted at birth, discovering that she is a middle child is a different ride altogether. After putting her own baby up for adoption, she goes looking for her biological family, including— Maya, her loudmouthed younger bio sister, who has a lot to say about their newfound family ties. Having grown up the snarky brunette in a house full of chipper redheads, she’s quick to search for traces of herself among these not-quite-strangers. And when her adopted family’s long-buried problems begin to explode to the surface, Maya can’t help but wonder where exactly it is that she belongs. And Joaquin, their stoic older bio brother, who has no interest in bonding over their shared biological mother. After seventeen years in the foster care system, he’s learned that there are no heroes, and secrets and fears are best kept close to the vest, where they can’t hurt anyone but him.”

Obsidio (The Illuminae Files #3) by Amie Kaufman, Jay Kristoff

“Kady, Ezra, Hanna, and Nik narrowly escaped with their lives from the attacks on Heimdall station and now find themselves crammed with 2,000 refugees on the container ship, Mao. With the jump station destroyed and their resources scarce, the only option is to return to Kerenza—but who knows what they'll find seven months after the invasion? Meanwhile, Kady's cousin, Asha, survived the initial BeiTech assault and has joined Kerenza's ragtag underground resistance. When Rhys—an old flame from Asha's past—reappears on Kerenza, the two find themselves on opposite sides of the conflict. With time running out, a final battle will be waged on land and in space, heroes will fall, and hearts will be broken.”

The Last Time I Lied by Riley Sager

“Two Truths and a Lie. The girls played it all the time in their tiny cabin at Camp Nightingale. Vivian, Natalie, Allison, and first-time camper Emma Davis, the youngest of the group. The games ended when Emma sleepily watched the others sneak out of the cabin in the dead of night. The last she--or anyone--saw of them was Vivian closing the cabin door behind her, hushing Emma with a finger pressed to her lips. Now a rising star in the New York art scene, Emma turns her past into paintings--massive canvases filled with dark leaves and gnarled branches that cover ghostly shapes in white dresses. The paintings catch the attention of Francesca Harris-White, the socialite and wealthy owner of Camp Nightingale. When Francesca implores her to return to the newly reopened camp as a painting instructor, Emma sees an opportunity to try to find out what really happened to her friends. Yet it's immediately clear that all is not right at Camp Nightingale. Already haunted by memories from fifteen years ago, Emma discovers a security camera pointed directly at her cabin, mounting mistrust from Francesca and, most disturbing of all, cryptic clues Vivian left behind about the camp's twisted origins. As she digs deeper, Emma finds herself sorting through lies from the past while facing threats from both man and nature in the present. And the closer she gets to the truth about Camp Nightingale, the more she realizes it may come at a deadly price.”

[matazz]

letters roy endoza never sent

so i wrote these because i wanted to write out roy’s feelings to the party members. it was mostly a way to vent, but during the time, i really did want to send them - but my DM never let me (if you’re reading this LOL).

there’s something a bit sadder about it being letter’s he never sent.

in my head, he left along the journal that he wrote as well with the letters he left behind. i guess canonically i can say that the party never ended up finding them. 

group letter (written after roy left the party & before the gala)

for the group, i had fun while we were charading around finding ancient artifacts and solving puzzles. i’m going to miss our adventure, but i have to leave. i’ve involved myself against the fate of the universe, a crime against all odds. i’ve loved knowing you all and you’ve all helped me so much but i dont want to involve you anymore in it. more importantly i feel as if that my actions may draw a rift in your beliefs and i dont want to seperate that bond. please do not look for me. i’m afraid i serve no purpose in this mission with the champions anymore. i dont think the gods (and even myself) consider myself to be a champion anymore. to be quite honest with you, i don’t know what the consequences are or what might be from my actions but i will deal with it myself. i’m going to be honest. i appreciate all of you, and you’ve helped me in learning so much. about the world, magic, and other people. but i don’t want to involve any of you in my life and i don’t want to see any of you ever again. please do not try to contact me or find me. this is my departure letter. i am safe, and i am well, and i dont want to be involved with the champions anymore. i hope everybody does well. i’m sorry i left without saying anything but it had to be this way. it’s better for me this way, for everyone. i’ll stay safer this way. if the gods tell you to locate me, please ignore them their calls. i can not say why, but if you trust me at all, please believe me when i say i’m safer not meeting you. sincerely, roy endoza.

To the group (i think this was written the day of the gala, but before the Thing happened)

To the Champions, I’m not sure when this letter will deliver, so you might receive it a bit late. I’ve left for a while to pursue my own goals and research some things. I'm not sure when I'll be back, or if I'll even be back at all. There's been so much nagging at me that distances myself from all of you and I don't really feel like I belong so much anymore anyway. I don’t know whether or not my research is going to succeed, but if on the event that something happens, please don’t look for me. To be quite frank, I don’t really want to involve any of you in my research and I’m afraid that meeting you is only going to be a liability to me. On the unlikely event that my research turns out to be negative, I'll come back; however if that’s not the case then please don’t try to contact me and do not look for me. I can not stress this enough, but what I’m about to go through with is going to upset the gods and more importantly, all of you. It hurts to leave like this, but I have to say farewell. I loved travelling with most of you and I’ve learnt more about the world than I ever could have just staying at my house in Origin. Thank you so much for the adventure. Perhaps for the last time, Roy Endoza.

To Ayce (written the day of the gala i think)

Ayce, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to talk to you before I left. To be honest, I couldn’t bring myself to do it and I haven’t had the time or the nerve to say anything. I regret all of that, but you deserve at least something before I leave. I can’t continue our relationship.. I’ve felt distant for a while now, and it’s been nagging at me but I don’t think we’re good for eachother at all. I’ve been a dishonest man to you despite the fact that you’ve been honest with me the entire time. I know it makes me an asshole. You deserve so much better than I could ever be to you. I wish there was more I could say. You've probably figured it out already, and if you have then I already know it was pretty selfish or stupid of me to start this relationship despite the fact that I've known all along how it was going to turn out. You don't have to forgive me. I wouldn't either. And if you haven't figured it out, then I hope it wasn't so terrible for you. I've enjoyed my time with you. I hope you find someone better. Roy.

A letter to Ayce (written like the day roy left)

ayce i have a lot i’ve been meaning to say to you but havent had the time or the nerve to say anything. but i need to say it now because you deserve these words. i can no longer continue our relationship. i’ve redeemed myself but in doing so, i’ve gone against the world; but more importantly, to you. i love you very much, and i wish i could have come to the ball with you and danced. i would have loved to; but i have a lot going on and i dont want to involve you, or anybody else in our charade, involved in my problems. i’m sorry i could not say it to your face. i hope life treats you well. you deserve so much better than i could ever have been. with love roy

Letter to Ayce (dated from the week before roy left)

ayce i’m writing this because i didnt have the nerves to say this in person, and i apologize for that. to be honest, the more time passes the more o begin to think our relationship was a mistake, so i’m officially parting ways. i never lied when i said i love you. i still do, but i just dont think it has worked out or even will. i think our morals are too different; and i cant find myself being with somebody who finds it so easy to murder a person. no matter how terrible she was, i thought that you of all people may have disapproved after experiencing death already. i also found myself attached to Fox, so his leaving leaves a hole in my heart. ialso despise Atlas; but i digress, none of these are even the main reason i’m leaving. to be quite frank, i’ve never seen this mission with the gods as important. my dreams, my goals, my redemption; they will always be first. this mission with the gods has just been seen as a side quest for me. partially because i don’t trust the gods myself. if we take everything we’ve heard at face value, then why should i trust God’s that have left the world to ruins before? they don’t even trust us enough to tell us what has happened in the past. in my opinion, they’re either incompetent and lazy or not telling us the actual truth of what we’re doing; or even what they’re doing. they aren’t powerful. if they were, they could retrieve the keys themselves or defeat beshaba’s group themselves. i just can’t bring myself to want to do a mission anymore where i have to obey people who can not trust us enough to let us know basic information. meeting you was a bonus, but i think it’s time for me to move on. this wasn’t a decision i’ve made because Fox left; i’ve been thinking about this for a while. neither my goals or morals align with anyone elses. i want to be good, but i’m only a wench in a perfectly working clock. as of recent events, i also don’t want to explain myself to Atlas of all people, but i can’t bring myself to tell you about myself either. i may return, if only for more information or perhaps even the gala; as much as i do not care for the gods, i’m still interested in the keys and the power within them. if i meet you there, i know it may sound selfish to ask, but i hope you may give me one last dance. roy

a notebook. it’s a bit worn out and has some torn pages.. it was left behind with roy’s stuff and all the letters

‪entry 47‬ ‪[torn out page] ‪entry 53‬ ‪i’ve retrieved a letter from a dream telling me to visit latham and retrieve a key. i’m curious, so i’ll check it eventually. it was definitely odd.‬ ‪entry 55‬ ‪i met a young boy. his name is fox. he’s some sort of shapeshifter. he’s quiet, but his presence is nice company. he also received a similar letter to mine. i have a feeling we’ll be travelling for a while.‬ ‪entry 62‬ ‪we retrieved the key & met some other ppl with letters too. we’re heading to a trinket store back in origin now. i dont wish for them to know of my life so i’ve found a way to steer them as far from possible to finding out about myself. i’ll probably visit ma too.‬ ‪entry 63‬ ‪an elf woman named leera attacked us after i told her i wasnt going to give her this key. i dont like her. she seemed very cocky.‬ ‪entry 65‬ ‪delilah is kind.. i feel like i’m able to trust her. i asked her a question about my goals, vaguely, and it turns out that ayce asked a similar question. based on the message in his later i get the feeling he’s undead.‬ ‪entry 66‬ ‪[torn out.] ‬‪entry 69‬ [‪torn out] ‪entry 72‬ ‪we’re travelling to copper coast now for another key. if it werent for ayce, i wouldnt see any other reason for me to come. fox is still around, but i feel like he's doing his own thing. the other two arent big presences for me to care about.‬ ‪entry 73‬ ‪atlas is a werewolf? i didnt think those were real. this group keeps getting stranger. first a shapeshifter, second an actual living zombie, third a werewolf.‬ ‪ive continued my lie to the rest of them. they all seem to have believed me, strangely enough‬ ‪entry 74‬ ‪copper coast was very pleasant. i wish to come back someday.‬ ‪entry 88‬ ‪this trip to clandesteine has been a disaster.. what the honest fuck‬ just happened ‪entry 90‬ ‪fox told everybody about himself, finally. i feel this huge sense of pride?? i’m very proud of him. i dont understand why i feel so attached to him but i adore him so much‬ ‪entry 92‬ ‪((incoherent scribbles, kinda like “vsdjfsasifwnqkosdkv”)) i think i accidentally implied to ayce that i love him romantically and i think he loves me too... i’m freaking out and i dont know how to react... i think he thinks i’m cool and romantic but i didnt mean to be. ‪entry 93‬ in all honesty, i just wanted to tell him he needs to be more cautious of me. a part of me wishes he could figure it out himself so i dont have to tell him. ‪seriously! i dont know how i did that! i do love and adore him too but i feel like shit.. i dont deserve him, especially considering who i am. on the other hand, i hope he never finds out the truth about me.‬ ‪entry 94‬ ‪oh my god. atlas killed a man and ayce and fox proceeded to tell the guards. i feel sick. i’m currently at home but if they say my name at witness testimony i’m royally fucked. i dont know. i might just run for it and live in myr’s peak. maybe no one will find me.‬ ‪entry 95‬ ‪the group managed to get bailed out using ty’s name. benefits of being friends with rich people?‬ ‪fox found my poster though, so he saved my name during eyewitness testimony. i told him the truth. its been the first time i told someone how i really felt. he wants me to tell ayce but hes the last person i can tell. ‪entry 97‬ ‪we’re in lunarden! it feels nostalgic to be back. i want to go back to every place i miss. i took ayce to that me and nori used to go to back in high school. i think shes currently performing in solardome? i miss her‬ entry 97.2 ‪i came up with a few different ways to complete my goal. i have a few more probing questions, but i will have to ask later. i think i’m getting closer to the answers‬ entry ‪97.3‬ ‪[scribbled out over so that you cant read it] ‪entry 98‬ ‪i’m planning to get completely smashed once we get to solardome. i feel like i deserve it.. ive been pretty stressed and havent got laid. i’m crying remembering that ayce might not even be an option.‬ ‪entry 98.2 ‪i love ayce so much, and its confusing. am i just sexually frustrated? am i just lonely? am i just

sad? i feel guilty because it tears me apart. im confused because i love milo still, too. i know i should tell him the truth, its whats right but i know he’ll hate me. i dont know what to do. (extra note inbetween the pages, torn out but still there: to mom. i love you venhfrhdy mcuh. thank you fir everhything. yes. roy.) entry 98.3 what happens if i succeed? i hope ayce doesnt kill me. entry 100 ‪good morning. ayce & i are officially dating. were in solardome atm; i dont remember much of last night but i remember thinking he‘s beautiful. is it wrong to fall for him?‬ ‪entry 101‬ ‪[torn out] entry 101.2 [torn out] entry 101.3 ‪the blackness on my fingers has risen up more than it has before. its almost hard to write with my hands anymore. [the rest of it is torn out] (torn note inbetween the pages hi ayce. its unrealistic you'll ever find this but there's some things i want to say. back when we first met, i lied to you as a reflex when you asked me why i'm dealing with necromancy. to be honest, i could kind of gather you were undead, but i still lied anyway. my story is personal, its hard for me to be honest. i know i'm an idiot, and i'm sorry i used you. to be truthful, i still am a horrible person and for the entirety of our relationship i've already known that i was using you and i've felt so guilty about that. my feelings are complicated, but i've never lied when i said i loved you, and i still do; but i still want to bring milo back. i made a mistake and i want to fix that. the truth is that i still love him too. i know you deserve better. i'm sorry about lying to you. roy) entry 102 a dragon made us experience our dreams and nightmares. jade's scared of blindness and bugs. a valid fear, in a way. and she was dreaming of doing shows. i think it was supposed to display a feeling of happiness and joy, but it was just spooky since we all experienced her dreams with no sound. i never realized how scary it was to be deaf until i experienced it. atlas' was morbid. people were dying and there was so much gore. then there were people saying they owned him. i knew he was a bad person but it was scary to see all of that again. he dreamt of a workshop with a girl and a young boy. it seemed sweet, with a tinge of nostalgia. i would have never expected him to have dreams. he just seems like a horrible person with no sympathy to me, but i guess he has feelings. i still think he should go to jail, but i feel like he'll just try to kill me if i say anything instead. fox's was sad. we got thrown into a void of empty space where we were surrounded only by dopplegangers and a vaguely humanoid figure. he seemed so lonely and upset. he's scared of being forgotten by us and that made me so sad. i adore him, and he's grown a lot since we first met. i gave him a hug when we went into his dream sequence. i hope he knows i will never forget him. his dream was sweet. he just wants to save people and hang out with us still. i think he'll go far, and i would love to be there for him still when all of this is over. (there are about 2-3 pages with entry 102 that are torn out) entry 103 a new discovery. the world isn't flat? the god's are using their powers to “lock off” the rest of the world. apparently sanctuary is only a small part of the world. that was a really weird discovery to find out? it's kind of hard to believe, but at the same time, not. apparently they keys we've been collecting hold the respective power of the gods, and they're used to “open” the gateway. i have no idea what that means. apparently beshaba wants to use our keys to do exactly that. and also they can kill the god's? entry 112 when we came back to lunarden we discovered that delilah and allen were kidnapped by atlas’ syndicate. i knew atlas was trouble. i hate having to associate with him. we’re going to save them yet it makes me nervous. entry 114 i feel like i almost died in there. we saved the others and no one was hurt though. we’re going to trip back to lunarden and then travel through the travel gates back to origin to try

avoid people. allen mentioned something about strange readings. i have a feeling i know what it is. i’m going to ask lathandar questions. entry 115 nvm we encountered leera. this group genuinely scares me. I’m travelling with people who are down with murder. i should seperate. she uncovered my posters to them and i want to die. she also mentioned the last key at a ball. i need to bounce. lathandar also confirmed my suspicions last night. entry 116 fox left before i could. i feel bad. like maybe it was my fault. i miss him. we have to continue though. entry 117 its so hard to find a bag of holding. i just want to have this spirit stone around without having it in the open. entry 118 we’re in origin now and delilah let me rent out her bag of holding. an absolute kind soul. we bought tickets to the ball. so expensive. i wish i didnt do that. entry 123 [torn out] entry 124 [torn out]

[evils--reign]

*     mentality     !!

TRIGGER WARNINGS ; mentioned in this post are references to child abuse ( both mental, emotional and physical ), sexual abuse ( marital rape ), anxiety, an eating disorder ( anorexia nervosa ) , violence and suicidal thoughts ( depression ), infertility, and an undiagnosed case of dissociative identity disorder ( multiple personality disorder )

regina is not mentally stable, especially in her youth, her marriage and, predominantly, her reign as queen. none of this information condones what regina did, the people she killed and/or terrorised - but it does explain a lot of her habits and why she does/says the things she does/says.

(     SOCIAL SKILLS     )

in “regina rising”, there are passages that imply regina was not permitted to interact with other children her age, let alone children of a lesser class.

“my mother and i had gone to town, and a pair of little girls had invited me to play marbles. my mother had scooted me past before i’d even been able to answer, and when i’d begged her to let me play one little game, she’d said - we’d had more important things to do - only i couldn’t think of a single thing we’d done that afternoon that was important at all”

it’s imperative for a child’s development to spend time with children their own age. more than that, it confirms that regina didn’t have a single friend until she was sixteen years old ( and she later learns that that friend was actually spying on her for cora ) - regina isn’t very good at making friends, even during the curse where the evil queen didn’t hang over her head. this explains why - because she’d never really had one that she made herself ( until maleficent ).

in season four, ( though i do not portray anything beyond season three ), emma mentions to regina about being friends, and regina was genuinely surprised at the suggestion. at first, it might seem to be because of their history but it makes sense that regina would be confused by the idea of friendship with a supposed enemy.

friendship in general is a concept regina is unfamiliar with. she has severe trust issues, which will be discussed, but it doesn’t help that after being kept from making any by her mother, she was then trapped inside a castle as the queen. befriending anyone then would have been entirely out of the question, because any friend of the queen was just that - a friend of the queen.

(     ABUSE     )

in season one, “the stable boy”, cora restrains regina with leather straps and raises her in the air until regina submits, begging “i’ll be good” as she cries. in “regina rising”, cora locks her daughter in her room with her magic and regina expects to be there for far longer than just an hour. cora also verbally belittles regina’s attire, her figure, her eating habits and her talents. cora instills in regina the idea that she needs to watch what she eats otherwise she will put on weight, and that would be unacceptable in cora’s eyes. later in the book, she then slaps regina across the face, viciously.

“i reached for the biscuits, but my mother slapped my hand - you’ve had enough, regina ‘ she said, almost sweetly. - i’ve only had one. i’d like another - i sounded like a little girl, and i hated myself for it.”

“ - i’ve heard quite enough from you, regina - my mother narrowed her eyes and waved her hand. i covered my ears and steeled myself as best i could for whatever terrible magic she had in store for me** …….. the sash that had been tied around my waist loosened. after floating before my eyes for a second or two, it snapped straight and wrapped itself over my mouth and around my head.”

“the words were barely out of my mouth when her hand crashed against my cheek. i held back a whimper and stood still.”

** - clearly, regina is used to cora using her magic against her as a form of discipline. she comes to expect that it will hurt her and it surprises when it doesn’t initially.

in another passage, regina is anxious to show cora her progress at art. when cora sees regina’s painting, she says “well, we cannot be good at everything” - in another chapter, young regina sings and dances with village children and cora later comments that she cannot sing. while not necessarily as damaging as previous put-downs, it does make regina feel insecure and thus, i class it as abuse.

while it is not touched upon in either the show itself of “regina rising”, regina is eventually married off to king leopold who is more than three times her age. regina is only seventeen when she saves snow white and it isn’t long after that she is forced to marry the king. in the show, leopold is originally interpreted as a jovial character, a kind king and loving father. but he is still a king, and he is still much, much older than his new wife. it is not outside the realm of possibility that regina was forced to endure sexual acts with her lord husband.

in “regina rising”, cora attempts to force regina’s hand at courting an older “prince” named benjamin who had already been through two marriages. it is implied in the books that regina’s youth would suit benjamin well and also supports the implication that young wives were often forced to please their husbands.

it is not confirmed, but i will be writing it as if it were - regina suffered through marital rape in the early years of her marriage to king leopold. she never told snow white, and would not tell her even now.

(     ANXIETY/TRUST ISSUES     )

regina, as a young girl, craved cora’s approval more than anything. she was trained and conditioned to cora’s expectations and quickly learned that nothing she did would ever live up to them. until “regina rising”, when she is sixteen years old, regina is submissive to cora’s every whim and fancy. she suffers from panic attacks when she knows that she has done something that would upset her mother but has since learned to hide them until she is safely hidden in her room. in “regina rising”, it is mentioned that regina digs her nails in to the palms of her hands and at one point, wishes that the marks would bleed. this is caused by loss of control and her attempts at regaining it.

it is a subtle habit that she has not broken. while not as present in storybrooke as it is in the enchanted forest, if she feels the need to, she will clench her fists until her palms bleed, or her skin is marked red.

because of past experiences, regina has come to expect the worst from people. it’s why she does not trust as easily as she used to when she was younger. in “regina rising”, the story includes a girl named claire fairchild who regina befriended, her first friend, whom regina later learned was playing her all along. she was really there at cora’s request, and cora even stole claire’s heart at some point in the story. regina was so utterly heartbroken by the betrayal and she even questioned her own naivety.

it was this act that prompted regina to commit her first grey deed that belied her then pure heart. regina made a deal with cora in exchange for claire’s heart to be returned to her, and a forgetting potion. she then instructed claire to read a note that told her about her impending wedding before cora gave her heart heart back, and then slipped prince benjamin a forgetting potion. she then lied to him, telling him that he was to wed claire.

this was regina’s first glimpse of true betrayal and it leads in to her meeting snow white in the show. though regina’s trust in others her age and those older than her is fleeting, she has no reason not to trust children until she meets snow again. with her already questioning her faith in other people, snow’s betrayal and the subsequent death of daniel as a result immediately broke what was left.

(     EATING DISORDER     )

anorexia nervosa is characterised by persistent energy intake restriction, intense fear of gaining weight and disturbance in self perceived weight or shape ( link ). as mentioned above, cora belittles regina’s eating habits and in later chapters of “regina rising”, regina catches herself limiting her food intake as a result. it does not go in to detail in either the show or the book, so i have taken some liberties with this aspect of regina’s mentality.

in season three, “quite a common fairy” ( referenced again later ), regina sits at a banquet table, alone. the table is full of food but regina only drinks out of a goblet. though it is a lot of food for one person, it doesn’t actually look like she’s attempted to eat any of it. maybe she’s just not hungry? in the back of her mind, cora will always be there telling her that she’s had enough to eat and that she should watch her figure, especially now that she’s officially the queen.

in storybrooke, she seems to have overcome this disorder, no doubt in part thanks to her newfound freedom in a new world. in season two, “welcome to storybrooke”, it’s reaching a bit high but she honest to god looks like she’s in love with the pancakes granny serves at the diner. though it is not as prevalent in storybrooke as it was in the enchanted forest, she does sometimes still catch herself counting calories or pushing food around her plate.  

i do want to point out that her eating disorder is not so severe as to make her sick or skeletal. cora would have never allowed her to show such weakness. but her constantly thinking about what she’s eating does affect her to the point where she has gone without eating every now and then. she also forgets to eat as the mayor in storybrooke and has to be reminded.

(     DEPRESSION     )

in season three, “quite a common fairy”, regina falls from her balcony and is then saved by tinkerbell, who later asks regina why she jumped. regina laughs and plays it off as if she fell, but tinkerbell doesn’t believe regina’s story one bit. and regina stops laughing.

there is a massive gap between young regina the newly crowned queen, and queen regina the reigning monarch, who has the king killed and a hunter sent after snow white. what turned regina from the docile queen resigned to her fate into the vengeful monster desperate for freedom? i have not yet decided what to headcanon for this.

there was a fanfic i read once where regina had made a deal with rumplestiltskin. i think the deal was that he promised her that she would be happy one day, and she wouldn’t try to kill herself. this deal is a brilliant theory and i’ve decided to incorporate it in to regina’s backstory. let’s look at all the things so far that could contribute to regina contemplating suicide.

she’s abused as a child

she’s forced in to marriage

and then sexually abused

she has to play mother to a child only six years younger than her

that child broke a promise, that resulted in the below

her true love was killed right in front of her

she was trapped by a spell of her mother’s that prevented her from leaving the castle before she was married

regina was not happy. she was miserable and at some point, she thought the only way out was dying. at least then she would be with daniel. but rumplestiltskin needed her to cast his curse, because she was apparently the only one capable of casting it ( i have a headcanon about why ) - maybe he genuinely cared about her well-being, but in my opinion, he only cared about himself and he didn’t want to wait another few centuries to find someone who could take him to the land without magic. so he did the only thing he could do ; strike a deal. regina wanted to know if living was worth it, so she asked him to swear that she would be happy in the future. he swore, and she agreed to not kill herself.

but that didn’t stop her from hating every minute of her life as the queen, as leopold’s wife and as snow white’s mother. and with snow white getting everything that she wanted, regina’s resentment only grew. eventually, when she saw a way out, she took it without hesitation. that way out was the genie and the death of the king.

(     DISSOCIATIVE IDENTITY DISORDER     )

also known as multiple personality disorder. i have mentioned in previous posts that regina has a lot ( and i mean, a lot ) of layers. there are so many different aspects of her character and several different personalities where most are completely different to others. it could just be character development, but i have decided to go a different route. the below points are all experiences that come with dissociative identity disorder ( link )

DEPERSONALIZATION. this is a sense of being detached from one’s body and is often referred to as an “out-of-body” experience.

DEREALIZATION. this is the feeling that the world is not real or looking foggy or far away.

AMNESIA. this is the failure to recall significant personal information that is so extensive it cannot be blamed on ordinary forgetfulness. there can also be micro-amnesias where the discussion engaged in is not remembered, or the content of a meaningful conversation is forgotten from one second to the next.

IDENTITY CONFUSION or IDENTITY ALTERATION. both of these involve a sense of confusion about who a person is. an example of identity confusion is when a person has trouble defining the things that interest them in life, or their political or religious or social viewpoints, or their sexual orientation, or their professional ambitions. in addition to these apparent alterations, the person may experience distortions in time, place, and situation.

it first started when daniel died. depersonalization - an out of body experience, feeling detached from one’s body. she watched in horror as daniel’s heart was ripped out and then crushed in to dust. at first, she didn’t understand. it happened so fast but to regina, it happened in slow motion. then daniel fell and regina screamed, and she came too.

it happened frequently after that. in season one, “the stable boy”, at the end of the episode regina is being fitted for her dress. if you look at her, she looks completely out of it. as if she’s not really there. she’s not really paying attention to what snow white is telling her until she mentions telling cora about regina and daniel. something snaps in her then. we get the first glimpse of what will one day be the evil queen in that scene where she looks away from snow white, processes what was said, and then transforms on screen ( in the commentary, you can hear adam and eddy talk about it with lana, about how that’s how she gets in to character usually off-scene ) - when regina walks away, she is a completely different person. it doesn’t last long, but it is a glimpse.

it happened the most during her marriage to the king. she would disassociate herself with her surroundings. it was almost automatic, the way she would smile and the things she would say. no one paid her much attention beyond being a pretty thing on leopold’s arm, so it wasn’t out of the ordinary for her to stare of in to space, completely lost.

the amnesia aspect also comes in to play here, as well as at some points in time during her reign as the evil queen. but during her time in leopold’s bed, she would often lose track of time and after long enough, she started to black out what she would go through. she remembers the first few nights, but anything after that, she doesn’t recall.

as the evil queen, she found it difficult to remember faces and names, especially of those she victimised ( re. season three, “snow drifts” and “there’s not place like home” - she didn’t even remember having held marion as the evil queen, or when she met her again in the diner )

identity confusion and identity alteration come in to play with the evil queen. though i have not seen the episodes themselves, season six includes the evil queen as a separate entity to regina mills. to regina, the evil queen is someone else entirely, and not really a part of who she is. it is my opinion that the real regina lost sight of who she really was and what she believed in, and the evil queen was born. nurtured by both rumplestiltskin and her growing resentment of snow white, the evil queen came to life the moment leopold died. regina is a completely different person from before his death compared to after it. she’s not nearly as deranged as she is in later years, but that comes with time and isolation and addiction ( magic )…

magic absolutely is an addiction. once you learn it, you can’t let it go without serious consequences. it has always been my headcanon that if you were born with magic, you cannot survive without it. for example, rumplestiltskin and cora were both given magic. but regina, emma and zelena were born with it. despite canon information, it is my opinion that if cut off from their magic or if their magic is taken away from them, born magic-users would get very sick and could possibly die. it is a part of who they are. taking it away is as good as taking away their soul. it can be locked inside you, and once it is released it is near impossible to put back away.

it’s affect on you depends on how you use it, and with rumplestiltskin feeding the evil queen’s magic with his own influence, it heightened regina’s reliance on it.

during the curse, magic still existed in storybrooke, regina just did not have access to it. it was still there though, and it was enough to keep regina’s addiction sated.

after regina’s failed execution and the subsequent result ( her inability to directly hurt snow white ), regina’s desperation only grew stronger and so the queen’s delusion grew to match. regina does remember most of her actions as the evil queen, but some things she completely forgets until she sees it in her sleep and she wakes up screaming.

though she does originally feel like the evil queen is a completely different person, that does not mean that she denies responsibility for her. she knows what she’s done but she justifies it as, in a nutshell, karma.

when the curse is cast, regina is finally free of the enchanted forest, the crown and the queen. it’s easy to slip in to the role of mayor mills and completely ignore the monster that still resided under her skin. she put the evil queen aside, and didn’t think about her until the book came to be, henry started to pull away, and emma swan came to storybrooke.

this is where regina first started to dig her nails in to her palms again. it was the only way she could think of to control her more malicious instincts and she didn’t want to release the evil queen when she had other options to consider.

regina has a temper that she was both born with, and built on as the evil queen. she’d always been stubborn, and she had always been hot-headed, but in her youth she was very submissive, and so she bit her tongue. as the queen, she didn’t have to, so she took advantage of that. in storybrooke, she had to relearn how to control herself otherwise she would completely lose it.

** in my characterisation, my main storybrooke verse regina has not yet come to terms with the evil queen and has not accepted her as a part of herself. until she does that, the evil queen is another entity sharing regina’s body that she has difficulty controlling.

EXTRA INFORMATION. as mentioned in my rules, regina took an infertility potion not long after marrying the king, to ensure she did not fall pregnant with an unwanted baby. this is canon information for both main verse one and main verse two. regina does not like to talk about it and will become hostile if it is ever mentioned to her, the possibility of her ever having a biological child. in “regina’s rising”, cora mentions only wanting the best for regina, and then tells her that she will understand when she has her on children. regina then starts to think about it and decides that she would rather marry an older prince than have a child, because she is absolutely terrified about what kind of mother she would be. obviously, she overcomes that fear when she adopts henry. but there is still that inkling of insecurity and self-doubt when she takes henry back to the adoption agency and considers giving him up - not just because she learns he’s the savior’s son, but because she doesn’t think she has it in her to raise him right. later, henry’s continued insistence that she is nothing but evil and his manipulations of her dredge up all that insecurity and it hurts her deeply.

[hmhteen]

HMH Teen Teaser: THE LOVE LETTERS OF ABELARD AND LILY!

We’re so excited about this one, people! This is the love story of Abelard, who has autism, and Lily, who has ADHD. They’ve known one another since they were kids, but one fateful day in detention, Lily kisses Abelard. Their relationship deepens and changes in ways difficult to describe in words. Especially because Abelard’s autism makes it difficult for him to communicate verbally...so they write one another text messages, often quoting an old book they both love, and just when they think they’re finally connecting, a decision Lily makes about her own mental health changes everything. 

You can read the first four chapters of this romantic YA below! 

CHAPTER ONE

The day Abelard and I broke the wall, we had a four- hour English test. Seriously.  Every tenth grade  student  in the State of Texas had to take a four-hour English  test, which is too long to sit still even if you are a normal person. And I’m not a normal person.

After the test, I told my feet to take me to geography. If I didn’t tell myself where to go, if I let my mind drift, I’d find myself in the quiet calm of the art wing, where the fluorescent lights flickered an appealingly low cycle of semipermanent gloom. Or I’d stand in the empty girls’ room just to be alone. Sometimes I think I’m not attention deficient but attention abundant. Too much everything.

When I got to geography, Coach Neuwirth handed out a boring article about the importance of corn as a primary crop in the early Americas. Then he left the room. He did this a lot. Ever since basketball season had ended, Coach Neuwirth seemed like someone who was counting the min- utes until the school year was over. To be fair, he wasn’t the only one running out the clock. 

Thirty seconds after Coach Neuwirth left, the low murmur of voices turned into a conversational deluge. I sat in the back of the room because that’s where the two left- handed desks were — in the row reserved for stoner boys who do not like to make eye contact with teachers. Two seats in front sat Rogelio, turned sideways in his chair, talk- ing fast and casting glances in my direction.

“Cosababa, pelicular camisa,” Rogelio said, and the boys around him all laughed.

Okay, this is probably not what Rogelio said. I’m not a great listener. Also, my Spanish is terrible.

“Camisa,” he repeated.

At the word camisa, Emma K. turned to look at me, and whispered something to the blond girl next to her. I instantly wondered if I’d been talking to myself, which is a thing I do. It attracts attention.

Then it sank in. Camisa. Spanish for “shirt.”

Maybe there was something wrong with my shirt. Maybe the snap-button cowboy shirt I got at a thrift store was not charming and ironic as I’d imagined, but seri- ously ugly. Emma K. had whispered about my shirt. Even Rogelio and his friends, who often wore snap-button cow- boy shirts, had laughed at my shirt. Or maybe not, because my Spanish isn’t good, and anyway, Rogelio could have been talking about someone else. Not Emma K., though. She looked straight at me.

What if I’d popped open a button at bra level and I’d been walking around all day with my bra exposed, and was I even wearing a nice bra, a sexy black bra? Or was it just one of those tragic old bras with a ribbon or a rose that might have been cute once but, over repeated washings, had turned slightly gray and balled up like a dirty piece of dryer lint stuck to the center of my chest?

I clutched the front of my shirt, and Emma K. and the blond girl giggled. My shirt was properly buttoned, but I couldn’t sit in my chair for another minute. School was a molasses eternity, a nightmare ravel of bubble sheets and unkind whispers unfurled in slow motion. I had to leave, even though I’d promised my mother that I would under no circumstances skip school again.

I stood. My feet made a decision in favor of the door, but a squeaking metallic noise stopped me.

I turned.

Directly behind me was an accordion-folded, putty- colored vinyl wall, along with a gunmetal gray box with a handle sticking out of one end. The squeaking noise came from the metal box. The handle moved.

When our school  was built in  the sixties, someone decided that walls impede the free flow of educational ideas, because some of the third-floor rooms are all double-long, cut in half by retractable vinyl walls. Apparently, the archi- tect of this plan had never been to a high school cafeteria to experience the noise associated with the unimpeded flow of ideas. The wall doesn’t get opened much. 

 Last time anyone opened the wall was during Geography Fair. One of the custodians came with a strange circular key he inserted into a lock on the side of the box. He’d pushed the handle down and the wall had wheezed open, stuttering and complaining.

Now the handle jiggled up and down as if a bored ghost was trying to menace our class, but no one else was paying attention. I wondered if the custodian was trying to open the wall from the other side. It didn’t make sense.

I left my desk and walked to the box. I leaned over and grabbed it, surprised by the cool feel of solid metal. And suddenly, I felt much better. The world of noise and chaos faded away from me. The touch of real things can do this.

The movement stopped. I shook the bar up and down. It didn’t range very far before hitting the edge of what felt like teeth in a gear.

I pushed down hard on the handle. After a momen- tary lull, it sprang up in my hands, knocking with sur- prising force against my palms. I put both hands on the bar, planted the soles of my Converse sneakers, and pulled against it with all my might.

There was a loud pop, followed by the whipping sound of a wire cable unraveling. The bar went slack in my hands. The opposite end of the vinyl wall slid back three feet.

Everyone stopped talking. Students near the door craned their heads to see into the other classroom. Dakota Marquardt (male) said, “Shiiit!” and half the class giggled.

A rush of talking ensued, some of it in English, some in Spanish.

I dropped the handle and slid back into my chair, too late. Everyone had seen me.

Coach Neuwirth ran back into the room and tried to pull the accordion curtain closed. When he let go of the edge, it slid away, leaving a two-foot gap.

He turned and faced the room. “What the hell hap- pened here?”

It’s never good when a teacher like Coach Neuwirth swears.

I waited for someone to tell on me. Pretty much inevi- table.

Dakota Smith (female) stood and straightened her skirt. She pulled her long brown hair over her shoulder and leaned forward as though reaching across a podium for an invisible microphone.

“After you left, the handle on the wall began to move,” she began. “Lily put her hands on the handle and pushed down and the cable broke and — ”

“Thank you, Dakota.” Coach Neuwirth strode to his desk. “Lily Michaels-Ryan, please accompany me to my desk.”

I followed him to the front of the class, keenly aware that every set of eyes in the room was fixed on me. Coach Neuwirth filled out a form for me to take to the office, not the usual pink half-page referral form, but an ominous shade of yellow with pages of carbons. As I stared at the razor stubble on top of his pale head, I realized I’d messed up pretty badly. So badly, I probably wouldn’t be allowed to see my father in the summer.

“It wasn’t just me,” I said. “There was someone on the other side pushing down. I didn’t mean to break the door, it’s just . . .”

Coach Neuwirth ignored me.

“You’ll note, Miss Michaels-Ryan, that I have filled out a Skrellnetch form for you. Your mother will have to sign the kerblig and return it to the main office before you can be burn to clabs . . .”

This would be a good time to mention that I’d stopped taking my ADHD meds about a month earlier because they made me puke randomly and caused my head to ring like an empty bell at night. Side effects.

“. . . Your parents will have to sign the kerblig before you can be burn to clabs. Do you understand me?”

He waited, holding the Skrellnetch form that I needed to take to the office. Clearly, he had no plans to hand me the all-important Skrellnetch form until I answered him. I contemplated my choices. If I said yes, he would hold me responsible for remembering every clause in his statement, and I would be made to suffer later because I had no idea what he had just said. My heart pounded with a weird mix- ture of fear and exhilaration.

However, if I said no, Coach Neuwirth would consider it a sign of insubordination and general smart-assery. It didn’t look good for me.

“So . . . what copy does my mom sign again?”

Peals of laughter erupted from behind me. Someone muttered, “Ass-hat,” and the laughter increased.

“Get the hell out of my classroom,” Coach Neuwirth said. He threw the Skrellnetch paper across his desk at me.

I began my trek to the office, hoping I wouldn’t run into anyone while I held the stupid Skrellnetch form. After the noise and glare of the classroom, the quiet calm of the hall, with every other row of fluorescent lights off to save on electricity, was a relief. Six steps of cool dark, six steps of bright white burn. Down the stairs. The first floor had a band of colored tiles at shoulder height: white, mustard yel- low, white, blue. I held my right hand out and touched only the blue tiles as I passed through the hall, feeling my jittery state of anxiety mute into a dull, sad place in the center of my chest.

Down at the office, kindly Mrs. Treviño eyed my yel- low Skrellnetch form with visible regret.

“Lily, what happened?” she said, as though I’d twisted an ankle in gym, or had some other not-my-fault kind of accident.

“I broke the sliding wall between Coach Neuwirth’s and Ms. Cardeña’s rooms.”

Mrs. Treviño sighed deeply. I looked away as my lips started to quiver. A gray cloud of shame descended on me with remorseless speed. I’d like to be the good, thoughtful person Mrs. Treviño had mis- taken me for. A person who doesn’t break stuff.

“Well, you’re not the only one,” she said. “Come on back.”

She escorted me to the inner chamber. There, by the vice principal’s office, were two ugly orange chairs. On one chair sat Abelard Mitchell. I took one look at him and knew he’d been on the other side of the wall pulling up on the handle while I pushed down.

Mrs. Treviño gestured to the empty chair and left us alone in the waiting area.

I’d known Abelard since kindergarten. Since my last name was Michaels-Ryan and his was Mitchell, we stood next to each other at every elementary school function. Abelard was tall and slim but broad-shouldered, with a mop of sable brown hair and dark blue eyes. He was gorgeous, but he had some sort of processing delay, mild autism or Asperger’s syndrome or something. He didn’t interact like everyone else.

But sure. Neither did I. When I was seven, I acciden- tally smacked Abelard with my metal lunchbox because I couldn’t stop swinging my arms. I cut his cheek, but he didn’t cry, and no one noticed until later, so now he had this little scar, which was weirdly sexy. Abelard never said anything. He had to have noticed that I was standing there in front of him swinging my Hello Kitty lunchbox with happy, maniacal abandon.

I liked to believe that he could have cashed me in to the teacher and he didn’t.

I dropped into the chair next to him, feeling suddenly nervous to be sitting on a chair that was actually bolted to his chair — as though even the furniture was there to be punished.

“Hey,” I said, a little too loudly. “So you were on the other side of the wall? Who knew it would break like that? You’d think a handle roughly the same age as the Titanic would be sturdier. Although I guess that’s a bad compari- son.”

He said nothing. He was probably thinking about com- puter games, or quantum physics, or the novels of Hermann Hesse. From all available information, which I’ll admit was limited, Abelard was pretty brilliant.

“You were on the other side of the wall.” Abelard glanced at me and looked away.

“Yes.” I felt a strange thrill of complicity. “Usually, I’m here by myself. Why did you . . .”

I stopped before I asked him the stupidest of questions: Why did you break that? My least favorite question in the history of questions.

“The mechanism was squeaking. One of the gears is rusted. They need to oil it.”

I nodded. I didn’t know what to say, or if there was anything to say. I thought of Abelard, under the same anx- ious impulse to touch everything in the world of the here and now that we could feel with our hands. But unlike me, he was thinking about the hidden gears in the box, years of neglect and humidity, gears rusting away unused. He wanted to fix things, not destroy them. A more evolved monster, Abelard.

He leaned over and peered at me from under his shaggy fringe of hair. I caught a hint of his warm scent. Nice.

“Lily Michaels-Ryan,” he said. “You were in my English class last year. You hit me with a lunchbox in first grade.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” I said. “I hope it didn’t hurt too much. On the plus side, I really do like the scar. It makes you look like a pirate, a little disreputable, you know?”

Abelard brought his hand to his cheek and traced the edges of the scar as though checking to see if it was still there. Suddenly, I wanted to run my hand along his cheek- bone to feel for that slightly raised skin, proof of my earlier bad act.

The sight of his hand on his cheek made me conscious of where my hand was on the arm of the chair, touching the sleeve of his shirt. A phone rang in the office around the corner. Mrs. Treviño’s voice came from the outer office, but it felt like she was on the other side of the world. We were alone.

“Abelard, why didn’t you tell anyone that I hit you with my lunchbox?” I said. “I never got in trouble for that.”

Abelard frowned in slow motion. He seemed slightly offended, like I’d accused his seven-year-old self of being a tattletale and a snitch. I’d been right. He had protected me, one freak to another. I felt a swell of something more than gratitude, more than surprise.

Abelard’s lips parted slightly, like he had something to say that he didn’t want anyone else to hear. I wanted to know what he was thinking. Suddenly, what Abelard had to say seemed like the most important thing in the world.

I turned my head and put my arm down on the chair to lean in so he could whisper in my ear. My arm slipped on the ancient vinyl, and I accidentally moved too close to Abelard, which is a thing that I do. I’m not good with per- sonal space.

Abelard didn’t say anything. I felt his warm breath on the side of my face, a thousand little hairs on my cheek moving in the soft breeze, and I thought of his cheek and how I’d wanted to run my finger along the edge of his scar. And still it seemed like Abelard had something to say, but it wasn’t coming, and maybe he was too anxious to speak. I didn’t know what to say either. My brain was not forming thoughts in English.

I lifted my face and he looked away. But his lips were there, centimeters from mine.

I kissed him. The kiss was over before I really knew what I was doing, just a momentary soft press of my lips against his. A stray impulse that didn’t make sense, my wires crossed by the randomness of the day.

What was I thinking?

“Well, it was nice of you not to tell on me, even though you were only seven.” I went on talking as though I hadn’t just kissed him. I do this a lot. When you live at the mercy of your impulses like I do, you pretty much have to.

“Maybe you should have told someone? You probably needed stitches. Not that I don’t like the scar — it’s a great scar.”

Abelard brought his index finger to his lips and frowned. He had one of those serious, symmetrical faces that a slight frown only improves.

“Lily,” he said slowly, “I — ”

I braced myself for a quick, awkward rejection, but before Abelard could finish his sentence, Vice Principal Krenwelge rounded the corner. I didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved.

CHAPTER TWO

My mother came to get me at school. She arrived look- ing frazzled, a small coffee stain over the left breast pocket of her shirt, lipstick reapplied but the rest of  her  makeup faded, leaving her skin blotchy, nose reddened by the sun. I expected her to be mad, but this was far worse. She looked defeated. Friday, the end of a long week, and now this.

Mom had a brief conference with Vice Principal Krenwelge, and then we drove home in silence. I was tired, beyond tired, needing the comfort of a darkened room.

“Are you mad at me?” I finally said.

We were stopped on Lamar at the light in front of Waterloo Records, where Dad’s band had a CD release when I was five. I remembered Mom in a tight camisole and brightly colored skirt, holding a sleepy baby Iris on her shoulder. Her hair dyed magenta red. Happy clothes. Sexy, even. Afterward, we walked to Amy’s for ice cream. Life in the before time.

“No, Lily, I’m not mad. You’re just lucky Abelard’s mom volunteered to pay the damages.” 

This made me sit up.

“Why? Abelard and I broke the wall together. It was as much my fault as his.”

“Not according to your vice principal. Mrs. Mitchell seemed to think that it was Abelard’s idea to break the wall, and you were just following along.”

Mom rolled her eyes to let me know what she thought of this explanation. Me in close proximity to a broken thing: cause and effect. Mom knew who was at fault.

Why would Mrs. Mitchell think that Abelard was at fault? There could be only one reason. Abelard must have taken the blame for me. It didn’t feel right. Abelard wasn’t the breaky type. If I hadn’t pushed down on the stupid handle, Abelard might have found a janitor to oil the gears. “Abelard said the wall was already broken. Abelard said the gears hadn’t been oiled in an eternity.”

“Well, the next time Abelard decides to ‘fix’ something, don’t volunteer to help, okay?”

“Volunteer to help,” I mumbled.

I liked the idea that I’d jumped up because I’d intuited that the situation needed my special breaking expertise. But what if breaking and fixing were really the same activ- ity, reversed?

Did Abelard really “fix” things, or did he just break things, like me? I wanted to ask him about his experience fixing things and breaking things. I thought about the time I’d pulled up too hard on the back seat handle of the car door while pushing against the door with my hip, and the handle broke. And then for some reason, I flipped the child lock switch thinking it might fix the door, only it didn’t. It locked the door, permanently. I’d tried to fix it, I really had. “. . . and Mrs. Screngle says tuber work.” Mom glanced over at me. “Lily, are you listening?” “No,” I admitted. No point in lying. “Did you eat today?”

I had to think about it. The day seemed like an eternity, as though the time before I broke the wall and the time after served as a clear demarcation of events, like the birth of Jesus or the arrival of the dinosaur-ending meteor off the coast of the Yucatan. And now my mind was filled with thoughts of Abelard. Why had he covered for me?

“I don’t remember,” I said.

“Is your lunch still in your backpack?” Mom asked.

I dug through the backpack at my feet. Sure enough, my lunch was untouched in the outer pocket.

“I would have eaten, but they told us to eat during the test, and I was still working, and I just sort of forgot about it, and then we had to go straight to sixth period, so I didn’t have time.”

“Are you hungry now?” I nodded.

We drove through P. Terry’s for veggie burgers, and we split a chocolate shake on the way home, like I was being rewarded for screwing up. I was happy enough, but I couldn’t let things go. I kept thinking about my dad in Portland.

At the start of the school year, Mom had promised that I could visit Dad if I kept my grades up and didn’t skip class. I’d been trying, but things hadn’t been going too well. My grades are all over the place, and I try not to skip, but sometimes I can’t help it.

“So, Mom, about the summer . . . I mean, could I still see Dad?”

Secretly, I planned to go visit Dad and just stay on. Dad taught English at a homeschool cooperative connected to the farm where he worked, kids getting life credit for milk- ing goats and picking organic beets. Heaven. I’d miss Mom and Iris, but clearly I belonged in a “less-structured learn- ing environment.”

“I know you want to see your dad.” Mom paused. It wasn’t quite a pregnant pause, just an awkward millisecond or two. “But it’s not that simple. We’d have to talk to him, and he may not be in a position to have houseguests . . . and of course, your grades . . . and no more skipping . . .”

I stopped listening. A qualified yes is almost a full yes. I’d have to improve my grades and attend all my classes, blah, blah, blah. I could do that.

“You know, Lily, seeing your dad again isn’t going to solve all your problems.”

I nodded to let her know I’d heard her and stared out the window. She was wrong. My father had solved my big- gest problem. There was no reason to think he couldn’t solve my smaller ones.

***

My father taught me how to read.

When I was in second grade, the school reading spe- cialist decided I was dyslexic. She told my mom to read to me every single night, but Mom worked nights. So Dad read to me.

In the beginning, he read me books about cat warriors while he drank craft beer. When Dad got tired of reading books about cats, he picked up Nancy Drew and the Three Investigators from a used book store. These books amused him with their gee-whiz ’thirties and ’forties references: chaste country club dances, German housekeepers devot- edly making strudel, and clubhouses with secret tunnels made out of packing crates and junk. Nancy Drew ushered in cheaper beer: Tecate in cans. I laughed at Dad’s earnest voice for Ned Nickerson, Nancy’s straight-arrow boyfriend, and I fell asleep worrying how Nancy was going to get out of that cave by the ocean before high tide.

“Choral reading,” my mother said, echoing the reading specialist’s advice. “Dad reads a passage, Lily reads a passage.”

My father sat by my bed with the book held between us as I painfully sounded out each little word. I learned to read the same way Hercules learned to hold a full-grown bull in his arms, by having to brute-force sound my way through every syllable until the words got longer and heavier. At first, I read individual words, then sentences, and eventually paragraphs.

Together we read all of Harry Potter; The Lightning Thief ; The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe; Inkheart; and Diane Duane. When the words began to swim on the page, Dad read to me from his own personal library of medieval classics. By this time, I was sharing a bedroom with my sister, Iris, and she listened with rapt attention.

Dad read Le Morte d ’Arthur and Physica by Hildegard von Bingen, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, and The Letters of Abelard and Heloise.

At about the time we started on Tolkien, with a nightly supplement of The Prose Edda and the Nibelungenlied, my father had discovered vodka. Cheap, easy to hide, and packed more of a punch than beer.

I never questioned the hours I spent sequestered away in my bedroom with Dad, reading while he drank. It was fun, and it was too good to last.

The end came when I was in fifth grade. My mom caught me alone in my room with her copy of Jane Eyre.

“Are you reading?” she asked, hands on her hips. Her dark green eyes glittered with some internal fire I recog- nized as hopefulness. She had a sort of feral alertness that alarmed me.

“What? . . . No,” I replied, thrown off my guard. I quickly regained my composure. “This book is weird. I can’t understand this language. What’s it about?”

“It’s a love story about a girl with a strong moral compass. It’s an older book, so the language can seem a little stilted, but it’s really good.” She smoothed the hair away from my forehead and attempted a wan smile. She looked sad. “You should have your father read it to you.”

“I will.”

I felt bad about lying to her, but mostly I felt relieved. Crisis averted! My father read me Jane Eyre, or he reread me Jane Eyre, because I’d already finished it by then. I didn’t care. Mom was happy; Dad was pleasantly drunk. Life was golden.

At the end of fifth grade, the school tested me again. I’d never seen my mother so thrilled. She came home wav- ing her copy of my test results over her head.

“Your phonemic scores are still relatively low,” she said. “But your comprehension is off the charts. You’ve made amazing progress, Lily.”

I didn’t immediately get the magnitude of what I’d done, but I think my father did. He greeted the news that I was in the 98th+ percentile in reading comprehension with a queasy smile. I’ll never forget the look he gave me. It was as though his usefulness on the planet had suddenly ended. Maybe he knew divorce was not far off.

“I’ve heard about this book Wuthering Heights,” I said, hoping I wasn’t overplaying the wide-eyed thing. “I don’t think I can read it by myself, though. It’s for older people, right? But we could read it together.”

“Sure thing, Lil,” Dad said, his eyes distant.

We all smiled at one another. The happiest part of my life ended there in the fifth grade.

 CHAPTER THREE 

Monday morning my mother woke me while it was still dark. She stood by my bed with a cup of tea and a piece of toast.

“Eat the toast,” Mom said. She hovered over me, already dressed for work in a white linen shirt and a fifties beaded cardigan that may have once been an ironic statement for her but that she now considers an heirloom.

“It’s the middle of the night.” I rolled over to face Iris’s twin bed next to mine. “Look. Iris is still asleep.”

My sister was an inanimate lump of covers. Iris usually springs out of bed like Snow White, ready to polish silver and sing with birds, but it was so early she wasn’t even stir- ring.

“I have to go to work early today,” Mom said. “You need to take your medication.”

“I can’t take it on empty stomach.”

“Hence the toast.” Mom thrust the plate at me. Reluctantly, I bit into the toast. At this hour of the morning, food  seemed like a human rights  violation. I chewed twice and swallowed with difficulty before slump- ing back on the bed.

“Now your medication.”

I took the pill and swallowed without hesitation. She handed me the lukewarm and very weak tea with milk to wash it down.

“You don’t trust me anymore,” I said.

“It just doesn’t seem like you’ve been taking your medi- cation lately, Lily. Maybe you’ve forgotten. I thought I would help you remember.”

Every morning for the past month, Mom had left a cup of tea, a piece of toast, and a pill on a plate for me by my bedside. And every morning I’d taken that pill and stashed it in an old pickle jar under my bed. I didn’t like the drug. It sucked the creamy goodness out of life.

Antidepressants tend to do that. I should know. This wasn’t the first one I’d been on.

Bells and whistles went off in my head. On Saturday, the day after Abelard and I broke the wall, Mom offered to take me and Iris to a movie. She didn’t go with us, and at the time, it seemed kind of weird. She must have gone home and searched the room for missing pills.

I probably should have flushed the medicine in the toilet so downstream fish and migratory waterfowl could expe- rience an unexpected rush of jittery calm and the sudden ability to meet deadlines and organize paperwork. Yes, I could have shared my drug bounty with the ecosystem, but a strange frugality had stopped me. The stuff was expensive.

Once Mom left, I looked under the bed. Sure enough, the pickle jar was gone.

I’m sure Mom was relieved to find my hidden stash, because I’d saved her a couple hundred bucks. One thing was for certain: She would never mention the pickle jar, and neither would I.

*** 

School. I met Rosalind at our usual spot under the live oaks in the courtyard for lunch.

Rosalind is my oldest friend all the way back to kinder- garten. She’s tiny and plays small children in local theatri- cal productions. With her long dark hair in braids and her giant brown eyes, she can pass for twelve. Maybe ten on a really big stage.

Rosalind was eating out of a bento box filled with brown rice, raw carrots, and seaweed salad. Rosalind’s parents are restricted-calorie-intake people who have formulated a plan to live for all of eternity. Like the children of vegan, mac- robiotic, gluten-shunning parents everywhere, Rosalind’s favorite food is pizza — though she likes classy pizza: feta cheese, black olives. Her dream is to move to New York and eat nothing but pizza. Also — acting.

“Lily, how was your trip to the vice principal’s office?” Rosalind  asked.

“Gripping and poignant. I laughed, I cried — ”

 “Was your mom mad?”

“Weirdly, no. I have a week in detention, but that’s it. She even said I can still see my dad this summer.”

“Really?” Rosalind raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Your mom said you could go to Portland?”

“If I keep my grades up and don’t skip class.”

Truth be told, Rosalind didn’t entirely approve of my plan to visit my dad and then refuse to return. She didn’t think I was cut out to be an organic beet farmer. Also, she would miss me.

I glanced across the courtyard. Abelard sat at his usual spot on the low wall under the crepe myrtle. Alone. The sight of him through the milling crowd sent a jolt of electricity up my spine. I realized I’d been scanning the halls all day, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

I settled on the bench next to Rosalind, carefully avoid- ing a patch of grackle poo, and opened the lunch that Iris had packed for me. A tomato sandwich, apple, Oreos. I nibbled on an Oreo and set the rest aside.

“You’re not eating?” Rosalind said. “Why, if I had a sandwich on actual bread — bread made from real demon wheat, mind you —”

“Here, have it. It’s yours. Taste the evil.”

I handed Rosalind my sandwich, but she just shrugged. I suspect she actually likes brown rice.

“So you aren’t eating. What’s up?”

“I’m back on my drug-based diet. My stomach will

refuse all food until five thirty, at which point I will eat my entire day’s calories in two hours, mostly in potato chips. Straight out of the bag. If we even have potato chips. Might be stale crackers.”

“Healthy,” Rosalind said. “I thought you weren’t going to take the drugs anymore.”

“After my little  trip to the  vice principal’s  office, my mother decided she would watch me take my meds,  like some hospital matron in one of those old movies your parents love.”

“The Snake Pit, Olivia de Havilland,” Rosalind said. “Whatever.”

Rosalind frowned.

“The drugs aren’t good for you, Lily. They change you.” “It’s not like I have a choice.”

“Um, you know how my mother is always talking about . . . balance between . . . gluten and sugar can . . . talk to your mother . . . only if you . . . off the medication . . . take you to a dark place.”

I shrugged, uninterested in the topic of my medication and diet. Abelard was eating cookies or crackers, reading something on his phone, dark hair falling over his eyes. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. He was an attractive nui- sance, a shiny object.

“What do you think of Abelard?” I asked.

Rosalind followed my gaze. “I don’t know. He’s kind of in his own little bubble. Why do you ask?”

“He was on the other side of the wall when I — when we broke it.” Breaking the wall was beginning to feel like a shared secret, a source of pride. Abelard and I destroyed something — together.

“Okay,” Rosalind said slowly. Dubious. I know that look.

“He took the blame. For both of us. He didn’t have to do that.”

“And you think that was about you?” “Maybe it was about me,” I said.

I continued to stare. It was easy to stare at Abelard. He never lifted his head, never glanced in my direction. Plus — kind of beautiful. Rosalind had a point, though. Abelard was self-contained. Maybe he hadn’t thought about me once since I’d kissed him in the office. And here I was thinking obsessively about him, imagining we had some sort of secret kinship just because ten years ago I hit him in the face with my lunchbox.

“I’m just saying, don’t construct an elaborate fantasy about him before you find out what’s really going on in his head,” Rosalind said. “Abelard is not like everyone else.”

“Neither am I.” Rosalind sighed.

“You know what I mean, Lily. Unlike Abelard, you can carry on a conversation —”

“Almost like a normal person,” I interrupted. “You are a normal person,” she said.

I kind of loved that Rosalind thought there was nothing wrong with me that couldn’t be cured by regular helpings of wheatgrass shots and a little extra understanding. This was why she was my best friend — but it bothered me to hear her say Abelard was not like everyone else. Broken.

Whether she admitted it or not, I was also not like everyone else. Why be polite — why not just say “broken”?

I am a proud Broken American. There. I’ve said it. 

CHAPTER FOUR

Normally I leave school each afternoon like I’m running the bulls at Pamplona. Not that afternoon. I went to the bathroom and fought for space at the mirror with the girls who did their makeup.  I  brushed  my hair  in the corner, but then one of the mirror regulars, a raccoon-eyed blonde named Montana Jordan or Jordan Montana, took pity  on me.

“Here.” She waved me to a free spot in the mirror. I touched up my base and put on some lip gloss.

“You should really sclur your blash,” Montana Jordan/ Jordan Montana said. Her voice echoed noisily against the bathroom tile. “Screeb pretty.”

“Sure,” I replied. Screeb pretty. That was me.

“Sclur your blashes,” she said, holding out an eyelash curler.

“Oh.” Curl my eyelashes. My brain took the visual cue and made sense of the words. “No thanks. I’m on my way to detention. Coach Neuwirth.”

I stared at my reflection in the mirror — a slight bump on the bridge of my nose, skeptical green eyes. My wavy brown hair already starting to look like my time with the brush had been an exercise in futility. I couldn’t see how curly eyelashes would be much of an improvement.

“Really?” she said. “Me too.”

And then she went back to curling her eyelashes.

*** 

Abelard was already in detention when I arrived. The only other people in the room were Richard Hernandez from my algebra class and Rogelio. An emo boy I didn’t know wandered in after me.

I dropped my backpack on the floor and sat at the desk in front of Abelard, my heart pounding. Coach Neuwirth could show up at any moment. I turned around and faced Abelard before my heart rate settled.

“Okay,” I said. Extraneous hand movement. I do this when I’m nervous. “Why did you take the blame for break- ing the wall when it wasn’t just your fault? Because my mom said that your mom told the vice principal that you said you were to blame.”

I stopped because I’d run out of breath. Also — tortured sentence.

Abelard looked up. His eyes were a clearer, deeper shade of blue than I had remembered. He looked away.

“And when I hit you with the lunchbox in first grade, you never told anyone, but you probably should have. It wasn’t like we were really friends or anything —”

“You came to my house,” Abelard said in a surprisingly loud voice.

Tectonic shift of the earth’s crust, a realignment of everything. Abelard and I had a prior history, a reason I’d felt a natural connection between us. I wished I remembered.

“You came to my house,” Abelard repeated. “I was five. We watched Pokémon together. You insisted Charizard was a dragon, not a lizard.”

I’ve had an obsession with dragons ever since Dad read me The Poetic Edda. There’s a dragon in Norse mythology who chews on the roots of the tree of life. A bad thing, right? But my father contended that without the dragon, the tree of life would become overgrown and eventually choke itself out of existence. My personal spirit animal — the destructive dragon.

“Because — fire-breathing,” I said. “I mean, hello, dragon?”

Abelard blinked.

“Char — lizard, Charizard,” he said slowly. “Etymology.” Beside us Richard and Rogelio switched their conversa- tion seamlessly from English to Spanish. Should have been a hint, but I was too excited to pay attention. A rustling

noise at the front of the room and throat clearing. “Turn around.”

“Oh, you did not just play the Pokémon etymology card,” I said, experiencing a rush of word-borne feels. More fun words than I’d had in a long time. “Dragons are everything! It’s a dragon who nibbles on the roots of the tree of life, because otherwise —”

“Miss Michaels-Ryan! Turn around!” a voice boomed. “Stop pestering Mr. Mitchell.”

Pestering. I was pestering. A word invented by teach- ers to mean “bothering” but sounding infinitely worse, like something you’d get arrested for doing in a movie theater.

I swiveled, and Coach Neuwirth locked eyes on me. I felt my stomach flop, but at that moment Rogelio muttered something hilarious in Spanish. Rogelio is a natural-born confrontation clown, one of those guys who always have to get the last word in. It didn’t help Coach Neuwirth’s mood that the last word was in Spanish.

“We’re going to break up your little party,” Coach Neuwirth said. “Mr. Mondragon, please move next to Mr. Kreuz, Miss Michaels-Ryan, next to Mr. Hernandez.”

I moved back a row next to Richard Hernandez. Abelard turned sideways in his chair and stared out the window. The room went quiet, unearthly quiet. Montana Jordan/Jordan Montana slid soundlessly into the  room and took a seat across from the emo boy. Coach Neuwirth glared at her from his desk.

“Nidhogg,” Abelard said in a voice that cut through the thick stillness. “Yggdrasil.”

Nidhogg — the dragon.  Yggdrasil — the tree of  life. I didn’t remember the names from Norse mythology, but Abelard did. Abelard, my secret cartoon-watching friend from a childhood I didn’t quite remember. Abelard, who knew Norse mythology and the finer points of gear mainte- nance. Was there anything he didn’t know?

***

Detention was pretty boring. Half an hour later, I’d fin- ished my homework. I hadn’t eaten my lunch, and I was hungry and tired, too burnt to read. There was nothing to do.

Richard Hernandez sat at the desk next to me, draw- ing. I leaned over, expecting to see badly drawn girls with gravity-defying breasts, motorcycles, guns — the standard Grand Theft Auto love letter to chaos and faceless sex. The stuff boys draw.

Instead, Richard was drawing Abelard. Abelard with a three-quarter profile, his right cheekbone illuminated by sunlight streaming in from the window. Richard had drawn the barest line of a mouth and was filling in the details of Abelard’s chin, muscles in his jaw shaded diagonally from top left to bottom right.

The only part of the picture Richard had finished was Abelard��s eyes. He’d perfectly captured the way Abelard’s dark blue eyes held the light, the open, almost mystical quality of his gaze.

I glanced at Abelard and felt a strange thrill in the pit of my stomach. There was something otherworldly about him. It wasn’t my imagination — Richard saw it too.

Richard finished Abelard’s chin and moved to his hair. “Wow,” I murmured.

Richard wrapped his right arm around his picture to shield it from my view and looked up. He had close-set, intelligent eyes and dark hair in a Caesar cut.

“That’s really good,” I whispered. Good was an insuf- ficient word for his drawing, like telling a rock star his music was nice. I felt a little stupid about that, but what could I do? Drugs kill thought — even the happy, helpful drugs.

“Shhh . . .” Coach Neuwirth hissed. “Thanks,” Richard mouthed silently.

Richard returned to drawing, and I continued to watch. Minutes passed while he sketched in rapid, assured move- ments. It was calming, watching Richard, as soothing as a lullaby. I almost forgot that I was hungry and that the skin over my skull was beginning to crawl and itch.

One of the basketball players came by to talk to Coach Neuwirth. They stepped out into the hall, and I leaned over toward Richard.

“You’re left-handed — like me. Also Leonardo da Vinci,” I whispered. “You shade in the same direction — top left to bottom right. Do you know they think da Vinci was dyslexic?”

I held my hands out to visualize this, making the clas- sic L for loser with my left hand. Kindergarten tricks. They never get old. 

“You’re making that up,” Richard said. “How could anybody know?”

“I’m not making it up. I saw it on Nova. Da Vinci wrote letters backwards and misspelled words. Classic dyslexic tendencies. I should know. I’m dyslexic, too.”

“No you’re not.” Richard looked up, his close-set eyes in a savage frown. “You can read.”

Richard said the word read with the naked bitterness I usually reserve for the terms late slip or instruction sheet. Dyslexia. You can pass for normal for a while, but even- tually the anger gives you away. The monster will out. I decided I liked Richard.

“Yes, I’m totally normal,” I replied. “That’s why I’ve been in the same algebra class with you for two years running.”

“But I see you reading all the time. You always have a book —”

“I hear talking,” Coach Neuwirth boomed.

Richard startled at the sound of Coach Neuwirth’s voice. His pencil slipped, and the picture of Abelard floated off the desk, slid across the floor, and landed face-up in front of Rogelio Mondragon.

Richard froze, a stricken look on his face.

Coach Neuwirth was in the hall talking, his back half turned but still in the line of sight. I eased out of my seat in a crouch and moved slowly toward the picture, hoping to snatch it before Rogelio noticed.

I was too slow. Rogelio spotted the picture and grabbed it. He glanced at Abelard and back to the picture as his expression changed from perplexed to positively gleeful. It was as though he’d found a secret love letter, ready-made for a million stupid jokes. Someone was going to be made to suffer in both English and Spanish. Rogelio scanned the room, searching for his victim.

At the exact moment Rogelio’s eyes settled on me, Coach Neuwirth strode down the aisle and ripped the pic- ture out of Rogelio’s hands.

“Whose picture is this?” Coach Neuwirth demanded. Richard looked a little sick.

“It’s mine.” The words were out of my mouth before I realized what I was saying. Lies are like that sometimes.

Coach Neuwirth held the picture and examined it care- fully.

“So, this is your boyfriend?” Coach Neuwirth chuckled. “Pretty good likeness of our friend Abelard here.”

Hard to determine who he was trying to humiliate at this juncture, Abelard for being unlikely boyfriend mate- rial, or me for being, well, me. Sometimes I think Coach Neuwirth lets the cruelty fly randomly just to see who might get hit.

Abelard turned to look at me briefly. I couldn’t tell whether he was horrified, embarrassed, or intrigued that Coach Neuwirth just told the whole world he was my boy- friend. I looked away.

Coach Neuwirth handed the picture to me.

“Put it away, Ms. Michaels-Ryan,” Coach Neuwirth said.

I folded the drawing of Abelard and slipped it into my book.

 ***

In the afternoon when I returned home, the picture fell out of my book. Abelard, beautiful and distant. Richard Hernandez’s own version of the Mona Lisa, a mystery for the ages. Abelard, no doubt named for Peter Abelard from the twelfth-century text The Letters of Abelard and Heloise. Strange.

I drew a thought bubble over his head and wrote the words I am Abelard, medieval French philosopher and time traveler. I have come to the future on a quest for love and beauty, but find only the barren wasteland that is high school. My tra- vails are for not!

I stuck the picture on the bulletin board and collapsed on my bed, empty. I opened my book, a novel about a girl on the run with her brilliant, eccentric father. After three pages, I quit reading, because I didn’t care what happened with the father’s new girlfriend or the daughter’s desire to go to a normal school for more than three months at a time. My head had begun that drug-fueled end-of-the- day descent, circling the empty runway of a town called Apathy.

I put my book away.

My sister came into our bedroom.

Iris is in seventh grade. Tall like me, brown eyes to my green. Same wavy brown hair, same bump on the bridge of her nose. Iris doesn’t seem to have inherited my moth- er’s large breasts like I have. She wishes that she had my breasts, but she is wrong about this.

Iris attends the Liberal Arts, Math, and Engineering Academy — LAMEA, or LAME as everyone calls it. She is the perfect student, equally adept at the long-form essay and robotics, and building musical instruments out of found objects. Found objects are a big part of the curricu- lum at LAME.

For someone with such a full curricular life, Iris has an overdeveloped interest in my activities. Like being me has a 1950s-motorcycle-and-leather-bomber-jacket sort of glam- our for her, because she has never tasted the fruits of failure. I could tell her that living outside the lines is not all that, but she probably wouldn’t listen anyway.

“What are you doing?” Iris said. “Nothing.”

“Who is that?” She leaned over the picture of Abelard, studying it with the dreamy intensity she usually reserves for K-pop stars with ice-blond dyed hair and too much mascara.

“No one,” I replied. “A kid at my school. His name is Abelard.”

“He’s adorable,” she said.

“No.” I stared at the picture. “Well, yes, he is.”

I thought about my impulsive kiss, and my heart flopped in protest. Continued exposure to the sight of Abelard’s faraway eyes was unfair.

“It’s dinnertime,” Iris said. “Mom told me to tell you.” “Not hungry,” I replied.

“Mom made a really good salad. We’ve got Supernatural cued up.”

Supernatural. Salad. These are the things we do together, eat salads and watch Supernatural because all three of us, Mom, me, and Iris, think those guys are hot. Iris likes the taller baby-faced one, but Mom and I prefer the deep- voiced snarky brother. It’s like a miracle, Mom says, to find such transgenerational hotness on TV.

This was our familial idea of a good time. It meant nothing to me at that moment — good TV, hot guys in a seventies ride, salad.

“No thanks,” I said. “I’ll just lie here and listen to the inside of my skull buzz.”

Iris wandered off. I played Candy Crush on my phone until I saw little orange and blue striped candies exploding on the insides of my eyelids when I closed them, and still it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough pleasure, not enough light or color to fill the emptiness of my brain. It didn’t feel good or fun, but it was motion of a kind. If I stopped playing, I would realize that there were no thoughts left in my head and I was truly alone. This was what happened when my ADHD medicine wore off. This was why I hated drugs.

*** 

I left the picture of Abelard in my room, thinking I would show it to Rosalind over lunch. But when I packed my stuff up for school in the morning, the picture was gone. This didn’t surprise me in the least. Most pieces of paper I come into contact with disappear suddenly and without reason. It’s just the way it is.

******

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[eirian-houpe]

Scattered - Chapter 2

Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold

Characters: Belle (Once Upon a Time), Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Gaston (Once Upon a Time), Maurice | Moe French, Mad Hatter | Jefferson, Evil Queen | Regina Mills, Alex (OC)

Additional Tags: AU, Curse gone wrong, Rape/Non-con Elements, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Cruelty, Abuse, Triggers, Eventual Smut, Romance, Character Death, Gaston is evil

Summary: Casting a spell, any spell - at least the ones that involve more than just the wave of a hand, or worse, the wave of an irritating fairy’s wand - takes time, and patience, and the right ingredients, and… just like any recipe, if you get it wrong, it doesn’t mean the cake won’t cook, rather then will, just with unexpected or unintended outcomes. All of Rumplestiltskin’s careful planning and manipulation, all of his hopes and dreams turn to dust; ashes in his bitter heart in the blink of an eye… in the fall of an equine heart.  Belle exchanges one terrible prison for another, and it’s one she is desperate to escape, and though Rumple’s fate as The Savior was severed from him centuries ago, sometimes fate itself has a way of finding an alternate route home.

Read on AO3 [Chapter 1]

Chapter 2 - So Wrong it’s Right Mayor Regina Mills took her usual daily walk along the main street of the town of Storybrooke, Maine. It was a town her curse had created, with meticulous care, a place for everyone, and everyone… well… out of place. That was the point after all, to bring everyone to a place where all their happy endings would be destroyed. Yet, that day, the same as every other day she’d walked those same sidewalks, crossed the street at exactly the same point, watched the residents of the town going about their cursed business, not knowing who they truly were, something wasn’t right. She should have been happy, ecstatic even, but… 

It struck her then, as if out of a deep gray sky that threatened rain, exactly what - or more to the point who was missing. Gold.

Stopping dead in her tracks, she turned around and deviated from her well worn path around her demesne, retracing her steps until she found herself outside of a particular store. She looked up at the overhead sign, that read, as expected, “Mr. Gold, Pawnbroker & Antiquities Dealer.” but the sign was turned to closed and the door, when she tried it, was locked.

As she cast her mind back over the last several days, she recalled that every time she’d walked past it had been the same.  No lights… no sign of life… and for a moment, for just a moment she actually worried.  Had bringing the Dark One to a world without magic, magic to sustain the hold the curse had over him, been the death of him - literally?

Then another thought took hold and one that was far more urgent.  Abandoning the conundrum of Gold’s shop and the whereabouts of the missing imp, she pulled out her cell phone, and turned again, hurrying to where she’d left her car, dialing the number of the Storybrooke Hospital as she went and, already fearing the answer she would get, had her call transferred to the basement, the asylum, where she instructed Nurse Ratched to perform a wellness check on a certain… patient.

She heard the alarm go off in the background even before the nurse returned to the phone and spoke the two words that confirmed Regina’s fears: “She’s gone!”

**

Belle paced.

After visiting her father, in spite of his physicians insistence that she not tire him, she had told him everything. He had listened and she’d watched his face falling and his spirits descending again from the height they’d reached simply from her visit, as she spoke of her deep unhappiness. When she’d finished he’d reached for her hand.

“I know he’s not the best, Belle,” Maurice said softly, “But… but we need him, need his strength. Amberley has never been the most secure of places, since the church has always relied on the fear of God to keep others from invading, but…”  he broke off coughing and struggling for breath for several long moments before he could continue, “but times have changed, and people’s respect for the church has… diminished.  I fear for you when I’m gone.”

“Papa,” she took his hand and squeezed it, hard. “Papa, I’ll be fine, and that will be a long time coming.”

Her father chuckled completely without mirth.  “Look at me, Belle,” he said. “I can barely catch a breath, and I’m wasting away.  I know you don’t want to hear it, dear daughter, but… I am not long for this world.”

“Don’t say that,” she dropped his hand, and backed away as though putting distance between them would belie his words. “You’ve years yet, and I’ve already told Gaston that there will be no wedding until you can walk me down the aisle.”

“Belle, please…” her father said, and spent the next few minutes coughing uncontrollably until Belle, fearing for him, returned to his side and took his hand again, murmuring apologies, and mopping his brow with the cool cloth left at his bedside.

“Please…” he murmured softly when at last he could, “...please hear me, my love. I didn’t make this match lightly. Amberley needs his strength, where mine is gone.”

When her father had lapsed into sleep, Belle had returned to her rooms, instructing her maids that she was not to be disturbed, and had taken to her books. There was something not right. With all of the physicians attending her father, he never rallied, he simply languished in that horrible state between life and death; his room already smelling of decay, a charnel house in the making. When she could find nothing useful, nothing that made sense, she began to pace, and in her pacing began trying to put together the pieces of everything that had happened.

Needing more information, she set off with a determined stride, to her father’s study, where she read every single piece of correspondence from the last few months, scouring the words for any hint of conspiracy or wrongdoing; trials or troubles.

She was about to give up, finding nothing particular of interest, when she stumbled - almost literally as she moved around the darkening study in search of a candle stub to light - over her father’s ledger, fallen at the base of one of the chairs by the fireplace, and with a smudged and crumpled piece of paper half out of one of the pages, as if marking a place.

With a candle lit, at last, she took the ledger back to the table, and opened it to the page the paper, which turned out to be a letter, marked. It was a page in which the figures did not paint a rosy picture of the duMarche household finances, nor of Amberley’s resources. She glanced at the letter then, looking first to the signature at the bottom of the single page of closely written words. It was from the neighboring lord, Gaston’s father, and in the light of the single candle she fought to make out much of the contents of the letter, between the close text and the fact that a hand - presumably her father’s - had crumpled the letter, as though denying the contents. She could make out only a few: vassail lord… alliance… debt… marriage… It didn’t take much to put the pieces together then.

She was the price her father had been forced to pay in order to avoid falling into debt and servitude of another lord, and he’d tried to keep the truth from her… lied even that day when she’d spoken to him of what had happened.

But then, even that didn’t make sense. Her father was always so careful, so frugal and sensible, there was no way he would have gotten the household and the town into trouble enough to need the help of any other lord, unless…

With renewed determination and vigor, she began to go back over each and every page of numbers, the picture growing darker, as was the sky outside, as she did.

**

Rascende took his time dressing, getting used to the unfamiliar attire he’d have to wear as his lordship’s footman. The pants were a deep purple, and the waistcoat of a gold colored silk with purple brocade, reversed in the long coat worn over the top of the ensemble, beneath it all a white shirt and cravat caressed his skin… perhaps not quite so unfamiliar as he thought on it, and shrugged a little to settle it all into place. It wasn’t exactly leather, but it reminded him of some of his more garish outfits he’d worn on his travels outside of the dark castle.

He sighed softly, and picking up his white gloves, he paused on his way through the cottage to check on Alex.  The boy was still groggy from sleep, and from the medicine Rascende had given him.  He perched for a moment on a stool next to the boy’s cot.

“You know, you really should rest, my boy,” he said softly, “and since I’m technically in charge of the stable hands, I’ll happily excuse you for the day.”

But Alex sat up, wincing, but shaking his head all the same.  “I’ll not give him the pleasure of knowing he hurt me,” he said, “Nor will I make her ladyship feel guilty for what he did to me.”

Rascende sighed again, softer this time, but he nodded his head, understanding.  “Then at least take your time,” he said, “and if anyone asks, I’ll tell them you’re running an errand for me.”

“Thank you.” Alex smiled, and then gave him an almost playful push, before he added, “but you better get going. It wouldn’t do to have his lordship’s footman late for his duties.”  Then his playfulness evaporated as he added, “that would be all that Gaston would need to be rid of one of Lord duMarche’s men and bring in another one of his own.”

Rascende growled softly, and standing, mumbled under his breath, “Over my dead body,” then worried at why it should matter so much.  What did his subconscious mind know that his wakeful one did not?

“Never you worry, lad,” he said more clearly, “I’ll not be late.”

As Alex had slept the night before, Rumplestiltskin had shed the persona of this world, and tested the extent of his magic. It wasn’t quite as strong as it had been in the Enchanted Forest, nor as it would have been if Regina - damn her eternal soul - had correctly cast the curse, and matters had progressed as they should toward the breaking of it, and the return of magic for which he had made provision, but there was enough superstition and the wild magic of the sympathetic hedgewise fuelling the natural order of things that he could still perform such magic as would likely be useful in this world, including apparating himself from one place to another, if the need arose.

Still, the need had not, and he had plenty of time to clear his head with a walk from the cottage to Amberley Castle, where his duties awaited; plenty of time to check into the stables, to see to it that Alex’ duties were covered by the other stablehands until the boy would get there, and plenty of time to acquaint himself with the household and the rest of the staff and, he thought more darkly, to take the measure of Gaston, and to find out whether--

A small, dark hair whirlwind of a woman, in a flowing golden gown almost took him from his feet as she rushed at him, grasping his arms and pushing him back within the relative privacy of the stable, out of sight of the main courtyard.  He didn’t need to see any more than that, nor to hear her speak to know… sweet gods, he would know her anywhere.

Her touch burned him, sending pulse upon pulse, and wave upon wave of undirected magical energy through him, scorching him, stinging his eyes and filling his head with a ringing whiteness that was so pure it was painful.  He gasped and staggered backwards for a moment, his ankle suddenly giving way as though he was in a world without magic and the old self harm took hold of him once more.

As he did, her ladyship - for he had yet to discover whether her memories from Avonlea were hers or if the curse had taken them from her as it ripped her out of space, and it seemed time, for had not Regina told him of her death? - seemed to come to her own senses.

“Forgive me, Master Rascende,” she said, her voice washing over him, squeezed his heart, wringing all the love he felt for her out into his blood to leave him drowning in it, “but I must know: how is Alex, please tell me--”

How he maintained the presence of mind to answer her, he would never know, but he raised a hand between them, interrupting her with words spoken in a soothing tone, while at the same time feeling his heart begin to sink. She was cursed.  She did not know him.

“He is well enough, my lady,” he said, inclining his head, part in respect, and part so that she would not see that his eyes shone with unshed tears. “I bid him take his time today, and treated his wounds before he slept last eve.”

“You’re a godsend to us,” she told him, then almost hesitantly asked, “If… if it came to it, Master Rascende…” Then trailed off and looked around her as though suddenly fearing to speak what it was that was on her mind.

“Go on,” he prompted softly.

“If it came to it,” she leaned a little closer, and the familiar, remembered and much beloved scent enveloped him, and he breathed in deeply of her, “can I count on you; on your loyalty and support.”

His breath shuddered in his chest and his heart refused to beat a moment longer without contact with her sweet, soft skin, and he reached out then and clutched her hand in his, using the pretense of loyalty to take for himself a selfish moment, he lifted the back of her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles softly, feeling the flush and the burst of the gathered magic she had awoken in him burst from the contact.

For a moment he dared to raise his eyes to hers, to find her gazing back at him, light in the clear blue pools of her soul filled with a second of almost-recognition and then…

“Belle!” Gaston’s voice.

… it was gone, as she snatched her hand away from his.

“I must go,” she said, her eyes filled with deep concern. “I cannot have him find us together like this. Tell me quickly.  Are you with me?”

“Always, my Belle,” he said, uncaring of the slip of his tongue.

She nodded with a whispered, “Thank you,” and then rushed out through the stables into the meadow beyond, to where her favored mare was grazing… and Rumple, that was Rascende, staggered back as he watched her go, unable to hold the rage of emotion inside of him any more, as tears of love, and loss, and anger and fear… even fear, burst from inside of him in huge, wracking sobs even as he raised his hand, twisting his trembling wrist, and left only a swirl of burgundy smoke in his wake.

[teddyylou]

Lance’s Birthday 2017!!!

Read on Ao3 xx

______________________

Keith sat hunched over on his bed, legs swung over the side bouncing up and down in anticipation and frustration as he thought, writing down and scribbling out idea after idea into a purple note book given to him by the Blade on one of his most recent visits. He sighed in defeat as he completed yet another page of crappy, dead end ideas that were just not good enough. Now people had called Keith a perfectionist in the past; whether it be at the Garrisons or in training on the ship even back when he was a kid and he was the only one bothering to colour in the lines and with the right colours. But nothing, nothing ever, had come close to how hard he was trying right now. He needed the perfect gift for Lance this time. Better than perfect; one that showed lance exactly how much he cared about the boy, which was a lot. 

Keith and Lance had been dating for just over a month now. After ages of admittedly embarrassing pining and awkward flirting, a near death experience during battle had sent feelings flying everywhere between the two rivals and it was a match made in heaven. Every single day since then had been bliss for Keith and seeing Lance get homesick often or space out and grow quiet, or worst of all when he overcompensated and grew too loud, hating on himself for it later hurt Keith to witness and he wanted nothing more then to help his boyfriend feel better and know he was loved; by everyone on the ship but especially him. 

Keith began to crinkle the sides of the paper he was writing on due to his tightening grip on his notebook. None of these ideas were good enough and his brain was practically fried. Lance’s birthday was two days from now and he had nothing. What kind of a boyfriend was he? Keith attempted to have another crack at writing some more ideas, trying to pull them out of the paper with his intense stare as he re-read over his work, but he was completely blank. 

The sound of the automatic metal doors to their shared room opening made Keith jump, quickly stashing his notebook under his pillow, still in his hands, pretending that he had fallen asleep on top of the blankets fully clothed again, hoping that Lance didn’t see what he had been doing. Lance would find it weird, that he was trying to hard. Or maybe want to see what he had come up with and think that Keith didn’t know him at all. Keith knew everything about Lance, he had made it his goal ever since they went to space after learning that he was a lot deeper of a person then he came across as. That boy had so many layers and Keith wanted to see all of them and love all of them. He knew Lance and he knew he could find the perfect thing for him, he just hadn’t found it yet.

Lance walked up to Keith without a word, stopping for a second to see if Keith was asleep. Keith couldn’t tell if Lance thought he was asleep or not but continued to flop right on top of him either way. The Blue Paladin tangled his legs with the squished boy under him, wrapping his arms around him as Keith let out a groan. 

“I’m sleepy.” he yawned as he cuddled his head into Keith’s back, making himself comfortable. “So was I, if you didn’t notice, I was asleep.” Keith lied as he let go of the notebook under his pillow, attempting to throw his boyfriend off him, and succeeding. He pushed his notebook back behind his bed while he watched Lance tumble to the floor, landing with his face on the floor and his butt in the air.

“Always a class act, you are!” Keith said with a smirk, sitting up with his arms crossed, proud of his actions. “More elegant them you Mullet.” Lance bantered back flawlessly as he pushed himself up with his hands into a standing position again. “Oh so we are back to Mullet are we?” retorted Keith, beaming at the fluidity of their words, no longer awkward and flustered like when they first got together.

“You didn’t mind last night.” Lance quipped as he moved closer to Keith to has positioned himself back with his feet on the floor, ready to attack back at whatever Lance would say next. “What are you even talking about?” Keith rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms around his boyfriends waist and pulling him close so that his chin was resting on Lance’s stomach, looking up into his massive blue eyes, still breathtaking through the masses of bloodshot veins and deep purple circles. 

“I told you… I’m sleepy.”

“I can see that.” Replied Keith empathetically, they had all been thrown into this war that none of them had started. The fate of the whole universe was on their shoulders. Lance’s back felt tense where Keith soothed it gently, and he felt so fragile under his touch.

“Come to bed, Lance, you need it. Here let me help you.” Lance let Keith take his hand and help him lift his shirt over his head. Keith stripped himself down to his boxers while Lance did the same before they both climbed under the covers of their bed which was probably too small for the both of them but they made it work. 

Keith wrapped his arms around Lance; he may have been slightly taller than Keith but the two always switched when it came to things like spooning and cuddling. Lance rested his head in Keith’s armpit and let out a content sigh, closing his eyes instantly and getting impossibly closer without saying a word. The Red Paladin twas sure that the boy in his arms was asleep after a few minutes of silence but just as Keith began to drift off to Lance began to speak.

“My family would already be setting up for my birthday back on Earth. I never really wanted them to make such a fuss, but they insisted. Could you imagine? No normal people start preparing that early.” He mumbled tiredly. 

Keith was about to make a remark about how he was in disbelief that Lance ever didn’t want the spotlight; but right now he knew that his boyfriend needed to let this out so he hummed in acknowledgement while stroking Lance’s hair, letting him continue to ramble.

“I wonder what they are doing now, you know?” Are they setting up a party? Maybe they are setting up a memorial. Maybe they aren’t doing anything at all.” Keith had to stop him there. When Lance got homesick his insecurities started to show. He would second guess every breath and make profound conclusions like this one, that were detrimental to his mental health.

“Lance… your family love you. I bet they are still searching for you this very moment. They are probably at the Garrison right now, making a big scene, demanding that they bring us all home. No one could ever forget you.” He leaned his head down at an awkward angle to place a kiss on the top of Lances head as he continued to play with his soft hair. He held Lance just a bit tighter, hoping it would make him feel secure and safe. 

Lance looked up at Keith, eyes bright in the dark room, sad, even with the small smile resting on his lips.

“Thanks Keith. But I don’t want them making a big fuss over me this year either. Even though I know it’s impossible, all I want for my birthday is to somehow let them know that I am okay, so they can be at ease and stop searching.” He said sadly.

Keith stopped moving for a second, letting Lances words roll over in his head. As much as he wanted to be the one to give that to Lance, he too knew that it was impossible. “I’m sorry I can’t give that to you.”

“It’s okay. No one can.” 

With that Lance shut his eyes once more and returned to the safety of his boyfriend’s arms. Keith held him tighter than he ever had; even tighter than when the heating had broken in the castle two weeks ago, he thought. 

He listened to Lances heart beat against his ribs, he felt Lances breaths even into a deep sleep out as it blew against his skin. He watched him for ages, just admiring his beauty. How had he ever gotten so lucky to be with Lance; and for Lance to even like him back. It always had amazed him how Lance could make friends with literally anyone. Whether it be on Earth or on any planet they picked randomly on Allura’s map. His usual self was so outgoing and brilliant even if he didn’t think so himself. Keith was in awe of his abilities though. He himself was never able to approach anyone in any sort of social situation and hell would of broken loose if he was ever in charge of keeping the peace. Lance was so good at that. He always saw the best in everyone, he saw the best in Keith. When Keith was around Lance he felt like a better person an he knew that only Lance could have that effect on him. Now he only needed something to show Lance so that he would actually believe it.

Keith found it really hard to sleep that night, ideas pondering in his head, seeming to get somewhere but then missing the target and disappearing into the abyss. He could get something from the Earth store on the swap moon… No, that is too obvious. Maybe he could draw a picture of… nope, terrible.

Keith always found himself circling back to what Lance had said earlier. About what he really wanted. He wanted to go home. You would have to be senseless to not notice that Lance missed Earth. Keith didn’t have anything to go home to, but Lance had everything. He had a home, friends, places to go, a school to attend. Lance has such a bright future on earth. Sure that future would be exploring space, which he was doing, but he would be able to share it all with the people he loved; other then Keith of course. People he loved more than anything.

There was no way he could give lance what he really wanted. Like Lance had said, it was essentially impossible. It was too far away to make a short trip and no wormhole could be made long enough to get a real visit in. What if the castle was attacked while they were down there?

As much as he wanted to grant Lance’s wish, he just couldn’t and he needed to accept that. But Keith was still Keith and he would never in a million light years accept defeat. He would have to find something close to it. Not in distance but something else. He could feel a plan brewing, one that wouldn’t lead to a dead end. It was just what he needed.

By then, Keith’s eyes were drooping, too heavy to keep open any longer. With one last stroke of the brunette’s naturally curly, absolutely gorgeous hair, Keith fell into a well needed and well deserved slumber himself.

_____________________________________

The next morning, Keith woke up barley opening his eyes as the world slowly came back to him. He sat for a moment, willing himself to get up when he noticed that a usual weight was missing from his arms, causing him to open his eyes suddenly and sit up; not taking the time to adjust to the castle’s ‘Daylight’ system before looking around the room. Lance was nowhere to be found and there was no music playing from the bathroom which meant that he wasn’t there either. It would have been no problem for Keith except that Lance almost never woke up earlier than him and if he did he would have woken Keith up too so that he wouldn’t be lonely. 

Keith slowly dragged himself out of bed to track down his missing boyfriend. He found some clean clothes that were probably Lance’s as they felt a bit big but it didn’t matter as all of their clothes were thrown together anyway and they often shared. After fixing himself up so that he could actually see through his bed hair, Keith left the room assuming that Lance had gone to start that early morning training that he had mentioned wanting to do a few weeks back. But after searching the training deck to only find Shiro doing his usual exercises, the hangers and the games room, Keith figured it was time for everyone to be up anyway and that they had probably found him before he did.

Keith’s theory was proven true as he entered the kitchen to see Hunk serving up some interesting looking, purple waffle type thing to a hunched over Blue Paladin on the end of the table. Everyone else seemed to be chatting happily to each other, Coran and Pidge were in an intense looking conversation over a hologram of a rare mineral and Hunk was sliding into the seat across from Allura and the grumpy pilot. Keith stood in the doorway a little longer, trying to figure out what was up before being passed by Shiro who greeted him happily with a pat on the shoulder.

“Morning Keith. You just gonna stand there or you do you feel like being a human today.” He joked at the teen. He wasn’t even the angsty brooding one today; he was going to be in a second though, if he didn’t fix this. Keith let out a small breath like laugh and Shiro went to join Coan and Pidge. Keith returned his gaze back to Lance before deciding that the best way to do this was to be calm and quiet about it.

This proved to be easier said than done when he began to make small movements towards Lance. He knew that it was most likely the whole going back to Earth thing or more lack thereof; but everything in Keith’s head was telling him that it was his fault. Had he not responded the way that Lance wanted him to? Should he have offered Lance some advice or do more to comfort him. 

These thoughts lead Keith all of the way to the head of the table next to Lance where he was greeted by the others along with his own serve of purple waffle things along with a warm smile from Hunk who appeared to be attempting to telepathically send him the message that Lance was not okay and that if it was his fault he would be dinner. Keith just nodded at the Yellow Paladin silently and sat down in his chair.

Keith pulled his chair slightly closer to Lances which caused him to finally look up in realisation that someone had joined them. He offered Keith a half hearted smile before returning his laser stare back to his waffles. Keith lent over and pressed a kiss to the side of Lance’s head, a common sight for the other members of team Voltron which Keith hoped would mean that it wouldn’t turn to many heads. He took this as an opportunity to whisper to Lance in a more incognito fashion.

“You okay babe?” He said under his breath into Lance’s hair. Lance let out a small nod and closed mouth grin as he kept himself up with his arms folded on the table. His facial expression, however, did not fool Keith one bit. “Please tell me, we can  go somewhere else. Is it about last night, should I have said something, should I not have?” He continued in his hushed tone. At hearing this, Lance let his hands drop to his sides as he abruptly turned to look Keith straight in the eyes. He looked like he had had even less sleep than usual. 

He leaned their foreheads together so that they could continue their quiet conversation. “No, you did nothing wrong at all.” Lance spoke softly. He let out a slightly more convincing chuckle as he went on, Keith still wasn’t sure if it was genuine though. “I must just really be feeling this war right now. I’m all good.” He was acting like usual Lance again, all confident in how he said his words but something was up. 

Keith looked to Hunk for help as Lance’s gaze dropped to his feet, hoping that his friend could offer some suggestions or tell him if he was overreacting. Maybe he was pushing it. Maybe Lance really was just tired. He didn’t want to make it worse by making his boyfriend snap. He thanked the universe for his quick minded friend when he turned to get Lance’s attention by changing the subject even though it was probably tried about ten times while Keith was still convincing Blue to tell him where Lance was. 

“Hey Lance, Buddy, your birthday is coming up isn’t it? What flavour would you like your cake to be. I could try chocolate, I mean, it wouldn’t be actual chocolate, but it would taste like it…” Hunk went on. Keith loved his friend but that maybe wasn’t the best topic to choose. Lance looked around a the table of people who had stopped what they were doing to listen in to the party planning at hand. “Oh yeah sounds great, thanks man.” His voice came out a little shaky. “But um, whatever is fine really. I’,m sure it will taste great. Hey Allura, did you try these waffles they are really good too. I mean, if my cake is half as good as this then it will be a good birthday. Did you ever have anything like these on Altea?”

And like that the subject was changed and completely avoided. Lance was seemingly normal, louder than moments ago and smiling wide. Keith could tell that his heart wasn’t into it. Hunk just shrugged at him. He was about to try and interject again but decided against it. He had pushed too much for now. He didn’t need to cause more stress for Lance. 

“Oh I’ve seen that before!” Cried Coran, standing from his chair at his discovery. “Nothing a good old trip to the swap moon couldn’t achieve. It would only be a short distance away from where we are now anyway.” Coran and Pidge shared a fist bump, which had become an official thing for him since Hunk taught him how to do it properly. He loved some of the ‘Crazy Earth Rituals’ as he liked to call them. 

The Space Mall, perfect! Keith still hadn’t gotten anything for Lance and maybe a trip there would inspire him to get the best gift that would knock the sadness right out of the brunette. Keith hid his excitement as he cleared his throat. “Actually Coran, I could use some time out of the Castle, I would be happy to accompany you.” “Great! I love company! Also you might be helpful if we run into any more pirates.” Keith decides to leave it there and not question Coran’s statement. He felt bad for leaving Lance by himself but maybe this exactly what the needed to help Lance. Besides, Hunk and Pidge were there and couldn’t really do anything until they got the mineral or whatever it was so they could just hang with him. 

The ride to the Space Mall was actually slightly longer than Keith had expected which was probably a good thing because it gave him  more time to plan what he would get for Lance while he listened to Coran explain what the mineral would do and where they could find it, a bit about its origins and some old memories from when he was Keith’s age and wanted to buy a space bike from this particular swap moon pirate. To stay it didn’t go well would be fairly accurate.

Soon enough they were standing in the very familiar main entrance of the Space Mall. Okay, so I need to head this was for about thirty or so quintares. Did you want to come with or do you want to look around? We don’t get to come here that often. I did promise Allura something sparkly after all.” He laughed to himself. 

“Um yeah actually. Do you remember where that Earth store was?” He shrugged nervously.

“Quite positively. Just up two floors and right down the end.” he dragged out the emphasis on ‘right’. This was going to be fun. The two team members split ways and after what felt like ages, Keith stepped cautiously into the empty store. “Hi, Welcome! Would you like to try the latest Earth fashions?” He was greeted in a loud booming voice. “Ahh, I, no. I’m just looking around that’s all.” he stuttered out trying to get away from the alien as quickly as possible. Nothing against him, he just needed to take his time and find the right thing, but also hurry and get back to the castle. 

Keith looked through shelves and shelves of old collected Earth things. Eighties pop art posters and picture frames of photos from Earth wars, little toy trains and cassette tapes. Everything was cute and reminded him slightly of what Earth would be like. But there were no beaches no Cuba no Space things. Why would aliens wanting Earth stuff want space stuff. None of the crappy modern pop that Lance like was in stock. Only classical symphonies and country vinyls to be found. Keith would never hear the end of it if he brought those home. Keith thought that maybe if there was like a beach postcard or a small jar of sand, maybe a musical instrument that would remind Lance of his family. Nothing. Everything was rather American or European, which wasn’t bad for a space alien to find but it wasn’t what the needed.

Keith was on the last shelf of the store, right up the back and was beginning to lose hope when his eyes came across a very old, slightly frayed wicker picnic basket, opened to display a full set of picnic ware. For some reason this intrigued Keith. A picnic? Lance never specified if he liked them. He never said he hated them. Why did he seem so drawn to it then? Where would they even go? The castle? It’s not even like they could go picnic on the beach. He didn’t know any planets near them who had beaches like Earth. Even though there must be some, Keith didn’t even know if there were any beaches like on Earth. 

Then it hit him, he might not know about the planets outside of the Milky Way, but he knows two people who have one giant map of the entire universe who would. He grabbed the basket instantly shoving his hand into his pocket to grab some money which he basically threw at the Alien cashier. He tried to get away as quick as he could but not before the alien chucked in a free Elvis bobblehead and one of the country vinyls. 

Keith was sure he looked like a mad man, sprinting down the shopping centre halls, eye’s like moons and his tongue hanging out just a bit in concentration. He almost missed Coran entirely, who was waiting for him at the entrance. “I see you found something. What a good way to store silverware.” He responded casually as they began walking, basket tucked securely under Keith’s arm. “Did you find something for Allura.” Keith reminded Coran. “Yep, magnificent artefact.” He said pulling a candelabra looking thing out of his bag. It was hideous, but it did sparkle. “I bet she will love it.” He said, even though she actually probably would. 

As Keith piloted red back to the Castle, he chatted to Coran in the passenger seat behind him. “I wanted to get him something to do with being at home. You know how he gets.” “Certainly. It’s a shame to see him like that. Always so happy, but then he becomes someone else altogether.” “He wants to see the beach. He wants to go home. I understand. Hey Coran are there many planets with beaches like Earth?” “Oh yeah, plenty. The water probably isn’t water in a great deal of them but there will always be a handful.” “Any around here?” “Maybe. Allura could check for you once we get back. You could take your plate container and give it to him there.”

Once they landed safely back in the hangar, Keith practically ran to his room to stash the basket under his bed next to his notebook which he was yet to pick up. He was worried when he went barging in that Lance would be in there and see, but he remembered that it was still a normal day and he was probably at afternoon training. His next goal was to find Allura and it was as if the universe was on his side as she was right there in the control room, planning out their course. 

“Hey Allura.” Keith made himself known to her as he entered the room. “Oh, hello Keith, you back already. I thought Coran would be bargaining up a storm for hours.” “He was very well behaved this time.” He joked. “Anyway, I was wondering if you could help me. I’m planning something for Lance’s birthday tomorrow-” “Oh yes! Hunk and I have been putting together plans all day. I hope this cheers him up!” 

Keith smiled at the thought of Lance having a proper party like at home. “Hunk was explaining the basics of a human party to me earlier. It’s going to be very human.” She tried. Keith let out a chuckle at her attempt to describe the party. “I was wondering if maybe in the evening, I could take him out of the castle, just the two of us. Are there any planets I could fly to from here with beaches like Earth?” He asked hopefully. 

“Allura scrunched up her mouth and tapped her chin in thought. Her eyes lit up as she threw her hand upwards signalling her computer to open the map. She began scrolling around slowly as she spoke. “I think there is one over in the Minkus Nebula. The water will be slightly tealer than on Earth and there are three suns, but you can swim and there is what you essentially would call sand. There are trees similar to Earth and if you left at about noon you would have about two hours before the sunset to spend how you please.” She stopped her finger on a point on the map zooming in. it really did look like Earth. 

“Thank you so much Allura!” Keith said, almost running to hug her. Almost, but not quite.

“No problem, Keith! Lance will be back to happiness and efficiency in no time! Plus the only thing inhabiting the planet are small fish so you won’t be eaten by giant bugs or mole people.”

“Thanks.” he said again, slightly calmer. “Good to know.”

Keith went to a late training session that night to make up for his day away with Coran and it was almost midnight when he got back. He expected Lance to be asleep already but instead found him on the floor with the blanket from their bed pulled of it and wrapped around him. He sat and stared at the picture of his family that they had hung on the wall. 

Keith wanted to say something but he seemed so distant it felt wrong to bring him back. He silently walked past Lance into their bathroom to wash away the day. By the time he got out and was dressed he checked his watch to find that it was only three minutes to midnight. He sat down next to Lance, leaning against the bed, Lance instantly wrapped the quilt around him too and cuddled into Keith’s neck without a word. Keith kept an eye on his watch counting down the seconds until it beeped. Lance looked up at the sound and then smiled up at Keith. “Happy Birthday Baby.” Keith whispered.

______________________________________________

Early the next morning Keith’s watch alarm went off sending a vibration against his stomach. He did this so it would only wake up him and not Lance. It may have if Lance had been laying in his arms or vice versa but Lance really hadn’t been himself and was not in the mood for cuddling last night. Keith knew it wasn’t anything he had specifically done wrong, Lance just needed space, he understood completely. He was homesick and his birthday reminded him too much of his family. Maybe he didn’t understand completely as he had never had a family to miss other then Shiro, but he understood Lance enough to know what he needed. 

He slipped out of bed, careful not to wake the birthday boy who was sleeping peacefully against the wall. He dressed quickly, deciding upon a messy ponytail instead of attempting to battle his bed hair before going to help with the rest of the team with the party. When he got down to the control room the team already had the task of decorating in full swing and Keith happily went to help Pidge who was struggling to stand on a stool while hanging some streamers from the roof, even if he himself wasn’t that much taller.

“We literally can turn the gravity off, why aren’t we doing that?” Complained the Green Paladin.

“Do you want to scrape the cake off the roof? Because I don’t.” Chipped in Hunk who was on the floor surrounded by balloons from the Earth shop. 

Keith helped Shiro and Coran bring in all of Lance’s favourite foods and desserts that they had all tried to recreate as best they could before he decided that it was probably best to get Lance before he woke up himself and ruined the surprise. “Are you sure you guys will finish before we get back?” He questioned the team. “Yes, we only have the finishing touches before we can go and hide.” Chirped Allura, clapping her hands in excitement. 

With that Keith left the room on a mission to collect his boyfriend. He made his way back to their room and shuffled in quietly, sure to not wake Lance. He let go of the breath he was holding as the door shut itself behind him without disturbing the sleeping beauty. He went over to the bed and kneeled on the end of it, leaning over just enough that he could gently shake Lance. Lance slowly fluttered his eyes open with a tired groan. A smile was still perched on his face as he noticed his waker, he seemed to be much happier after a decent sleep. Maybe he had forgotten what day it was. 

“Wake up Birthday Boy.” Keith smiled, taking a chance, hoping that it didn’t make Lance upset again. His smile didn’t falter so Keith moved closer to give him a hug. They laid in a comfortable, happy silence, just enjoying each others company. Lance rolled over to be facing Keith smile still resting on his face easily, like it was glad to be back. “What a good wake up.” Lance mumbled tiredly, much like two nights ago before Lance was sad, the kind of tired mumble that Keith found adorable and irresistible. “I like your hair like that too.” He added, patting the back of Keith’s head gently with his fingers. “Come on, we need to get up, I have to show you something.” Keith said beginning to get up but Lance grabbed his wrist. “No, stay, we can go later.” He closed his eyes again and pulled Keith back onto the mattress. “Laaance…” He drawled out. 

He ended up resorting to dragging his boyfriend out of bed. Lance didn’t even bother getting into proper clothes as he had slept in sweat pants and a baggy shirt anyway, so he let Keith lead him by the hand all the way to just before the door to the control room would sense them and open. “Ok Lance, ready for your surprise?” He asked and Lance nodded so he stepped behind his taller boyfriend having to get on his toes to cover his eyes and lead him forward. 

He stopped right when Lance was in the middle of the room. He looked around first before he letting Lance see and he was truly impressed. There was small lions hanging from the ceiling and the present table may have only held a small amount but it was so bright and colourful and he knew it was perfect. He also took the time to notice that Allura truly had gone all out recreating an ‘Earth style’ party, but may have gotten somethings lost in translation after spotting homemade versions of pin the tail on the donkey and twister.

He could barely keep the smile off his face as he took his hands away and everyone jumped out from their spots.

“SURPRISE LANCE!” they all shouted in unison, except for Pidge who leaped out next to Lance with a party blower, sounding it very loudly over the shouts. Lance was speechless for a moment, looking around at every detail, laughing and smiling, eyes lighting up at every new part.

“You guys did this all for me?” He asked, pointing to his chest. “Of course we did,” replied Keith, taking Lances hand in his own. “You missed home so much and we wanted to give you the best home like birthday we could even though we couldn’t actually go there.” “You guys are the best friends I could ever ask for. Thanks so much!” He said, so overwhelmed that Keith thought he was about to cry.

Lance didn’t get much time after that to get emotional as he was dragged straight into the party and it took off. They told stories from the garrison and listened to Lance talk about his family. Allura and Coran crushed it at musical statues and were really getting into these Earth games until someone let it slip that they weren’t often played at teenagers parties unless there was a certain level of alcoholic beverages involved. 

“What! Why didn’t anyone tell me!” Allura cried. “No it’s fine, it reminds me of my little siblings parties or my nieces and nephews. It was secretly my favourite part anyway, I think everyone could tell though.” Lance assured her.

The team ate, gave Lance his presents and played more games, Shiro almost literally crushing Pidge in an intense game of twister. Everyone was enjoying themselves as they chatted away happily like there wasn’t even a war going on at all and eventually Keith finds Lance and pulls him aside.

“I never got to give you my present.” Whispered Keith thinking back to the picnic basket and towels already loaded into Red’s cockpit. “You didn’t have to get me anything. The party was already enough for me.” He smiled, pulling Keith in towards him by his waist. “Well, I did, let me show you.”

Keith snuck Lance down to the hangars and into Red. “Ooh, are we going somewhere?” Lance bounced excitedly on the balls of his feet before taking a seat. “You’ll see.” Was all Keith replied with as he took hold of Red’s controls and entered in the coordinates to the GPS.

Soon they approached the planet and Keith saw Lance slowly get up with a frown and move to the glass to get a better look at their destination. He looked down at the floor and then to Keith. 

“What planet is that, is that where we are going?”  He asked. “Yeah, Allura helped me find it. It has beaches…” He tried to sell it. He knew that Lance thought that the blue coloured Planet was Earth for a split second but he hoped that once they got down there it would be all better. “Thank you Keith!” He replied before pressing his face back to the glass to observe the dark green landforms that were getting closer and closer to them.

Keith landed Red down right on the sand like beach, which  to be fair, could have fooled anyone.

“Wow, it really is like Earth. I can’t believe this!” Lance yelled like an excited child, crinkling his toes in the sand.

“So you like it?” Asked Keith as he dropped their stuff onto a spot a few meters away from the teal water. “Are you kidding? I love it! It’s been so long since I have seen an actual ocean that wasn’t lava or acid. The trees are like, real trees and the sky is kinda blue. It’s perfect!”

They had landed around what they counted to be about two or three o’clock in the afternoon so after a quick change into their swimmers they spent the afternoon splashing around in the water, sharing a lunch of leftover party food and building a fire as the three suns that burned in the sky sunk lower and lower on the horizon.

The two raced each other back to the shore after one more go in the water before laying down on a towel together to watch the last of the day’s light disappear. Keith laid his head on Lances arm as he watched Lance a little more than the view because the fire dancing off Lance’s tan skin was more ‘once in a lifetime’ to Keith then any sunset. 

“Best birthday ever?” He said as he rubbed circles into Lances hip. “Best birthday ever.”

[evils--crown]

TRIGGER WARNINGS ; mentioned in this post are references to child abuse ( both mental, emotional and physical ), sexual abuse ( marital rape ), anxiety, an eating disorder ( anorexia nervosa ) , violence and suicidal thoughts ( depression ), infertility, and an undiagnosed case of dissociative identity disorder ( multiple personality disorder )

regina is not mentally stable, especially in her youth, her marriage and, predominantly, her reign as queen. none of this information condones what regina did, the people she killed and/or terrorised - but it does explain a lot of her habits and why she does/says the things she does/says.

SOCIAL SKILLS.

in “regina rising”, there are passages that imply regina was not permitted to interact with other children her age, let alone children of a lesser class.

“my mother and i had gone to town, and a pair of little girls had invited me to play marbles. my mother had scooted me past before i’d even been able to answer, and when i’d begged her to let me play one little game, she’d said - we’d had more important things to do - only i couldn’t think of a single thing we’d done that afternoon that was important at all”

it’s imperative for a child’s development to spend time with children their own age. more than that, it confirms that regina didn’t have a single friend until she was sixteen years old ( and she later learns that that friend was actually spying on her for cora ) - regina isn’t very good at making friends, even during the curse where the evil queen didn’t hang over her head. this explains why - because she’d never really had one that she made herself ( until maleficent ).

in season four, ( though i do not portray anything beyond season three ), emma mentions to regina about being friends, and regina was genuinely surprised at the suggestion. at first, it might seem to be because of their history but it makes sense that regina would be confused by the idea of friendship with a supposed enemy.

friendship in general is a concept regina is unfamiliar with. she has severe trust issues, which will be discussed, but it doesn’t help that after being kept from making any by her mother, she was then trapped inside a castle as the queen. befriending anyone then would have been entirely out of the question, because any friend of the queen was just that - a friend of the queen.

ABUSE.

in season one, “the stable boy”, cora restrains regina with leather straps and raises her in the air until regina submits, begging “i’ll be good” as she cries. in “regina rising”, cora locks her daughter in her room with her magic and regina expects to be there for far longer than just an hour. cora also verbally belittles regina’s attire, her figure, her eating habits and her talents. cora instills in regina the idea that she needs to watch what she eats otherwise she will put on weight, and that would be unacceptable in cora’s eyes. later in the book, she then slaps regina across the face, viciously.

“i reached for the biscuits, but my mother slapped my hand - you’ve had enough, regina ‘ she said, almost sweetly. - i’ve only had one. i’d like another - i sounded like a little girl, and i hated myself for it.”

“ - i’ve heard quite enough from you, regina - my mother narrowed her eyes and waved her hand. i covered my ears and steeled myself as best i could for whatever terrible magic she had in store for me** …….. the sash that had been tied around my waist loosened. after floating before my eyes for a second or two, it snapped straight and wrapped itself over my mouth and around my head.”

“the words were barely out of my mouth when her hand crashed against my cheek. i held back a whimper and stood still.”

** - clearly, regina is used to cora using her magic against her as a form of discipline. she comes to expect that it will hurt her and it surprises when it doesn’t initially.

in another passage, regina is anxious to show cora her progress at art. when cora sees regina’s painting, she says “well, we cannot be good at everything” - in another chapter, young regina sings and dances with village children and cora later comments that she cannot sing. while not necessarily as damaging as previous put-downs, it does make regina feel insecure and thus, i class it as abuse.

while it is not touched upon in either the show itself of “regina rising”, regina is eventually married off to king leopold who is more than three times her age. regina is only seventeen when she saves snow white and it isn’t long after that she is forced to marry the king. in the show, leopold is originally interpreted as a jovial character, a kind king and loving father. but he is still a king, and he is still much, much older than his new wife. it is not outside the realm of possibility that regina was forced to endure sexual acts with her lord husband.

in “regina rising”, cora attempts to force regina’s hand at courting an older “prince” named benjamin who had already been through two marriages. it is implied in the books that regina’s youth would suit benjamin well and also supports the implication that young wives were often forced to please their husbands.

it is not confirmed, but i will be writing it as if it were - regina suffered through marital rape in the early years of her marriage to king leopold. she never told snow white, and would not tell her even now.

ANXIETY/TRUST ISSUES.

regina, as a young girl, craved cora’s approval more than anything. she was trained and conditioned to cora’s expectations and quickly learned that nothing she did would ever live up to them. until “regina rising”, when she is sixteen years old, regina is submissive to cora’s every whim and fancy. she suffers from panic attacks when she knows that she has done something that would upset her mother but has since learned to hide them until she is safely hidden in her room. in “regina rising”, it is mentioned that regina digs her nails in to the palms of her hands and at one point, wishes that the marks would bleed. this is caused by loss of control and her attempts at regaining it.

it is a subtle habit that she has not broken. while not as present in storybrooke as it is in the enchanted forest, if she feels the need to, she will clench her fists until her palms bleed, or her skin is marked red.

because of past experiences, regina has come to expect the worst from people. it’s why she does not trust as easily as she used to when she was younger. in “regina rising”, the story includes a girl named claire fairchild who regina befriended, her first friend, whom regina later learned was playing her all along. she was really there at cora’s request, and cora even stole claire’s heart at some point in the story. regina was so utterly heartbroken by the betrayal and she even questioned her own naivety.

it was this act that prompted regina to commit her first grey deed that belied her then pure heart. regina made a deal with cora in exchange for claire’s heart to be returned to her, and a forgetting potion. she then instructed claire to read a note that told her about her impending wedding before cora gave her heart heart back, and then slipped prince benjamin a forgetting potion. she then lied to him, telling him that he was to wed claire.

this was regina’s first glimpse of true betrayal and it leads in to her meeting snow white in the show. though regina’s trust in others her age and those older than her is fleeting, she has no reason not to trust children until she meets snow again. with her already questioning her faith in other people, snow’s betrayal and the subsequent death of daniel as a result immediately broke what was left.

EATING DISORDER.

anorexia nervosa is characterised by persistent energy intake restriction, intense fear of gaining weight and disturbance in self perceived weight or shape ( link ). as mentioned above, cora belittles regina’s eating habits and in later chapters of “regina rising”, regina catches herself limiting her food intake as a result. it does not go in to detail in either the show or the book, so i have taken some liberties with this aspect of regina’s mentality.

in season three, “quite a common fairy” ( referenced again later ), regina sits at a banquet table, alone. the table is full of food but regina only drinks out of a goblet. though it is a lot of food for one person, it doesn’t actually look like she’s attempted to eat any of it. maybe she’s just not hungry? in the back of her mind, cora will always be there telling her that she’s had enough to eat and that she should watch her figure, especially now that she’s officially the queen.

in storybrooke, she seems to have overcome this disorder, no doubt in part thanks to her newfound freedom in a new world. in season two, “welcome to storybrooke”, it’s reaching a bit high but she honest to god looks like she’s in love with the pancakes granny serves at the diner. though it is not as prevalent in storybrooke as it was in the enchanted forest, she does sometimes still catch herself counting calories or pushing food around her plate.  

i do want to point out that her eating disorder is not so severe as to make her sick or skeletal. cora would have never allowed her to show such weakness. but her constantly thinking about what she’s eating does affect her to the point where she has gone without eating every now and then. she also forgets to eat as the mayor in storybrooke and has to be reminded.

DEPRESSION.

in season three, “quite a common fairy”, regina falls from her balcony and is then saved by tinkerbell, who later asks regina why she jumped. regina laughs and plays it off as if she fell, but tinkerbell doesn’t believe regina’s story one bit. and regina stops laughing.

there is a massive gap between young regina the newly crowned queen, and queen regina the reigning monarch, who has the king killed and a hunter sent after snow white. what turned regina from the docile queen resigned to her fate into the vengeful monster desperate for freedom? i have not yet decided what to headcanon for this.

there was a fanfic i read once where regina had made a deal with rumplestiltskin. i think the deal was that he promised her that she would be happy one day, and she wouldn’t try to kill herself. this deal is a brilliant theory and i’ve decided to incorporate it in to regina’s backstory. let’s look at all the things so far that could contribute to regina contemplating suicide.

she’s abused as a child

she’s forced in to marriage

and then sexually abused

she has to play mother to a child only six years younger than her

that child broke a promise, that resulted in the below

her true love was killed right in front of her

she was trapped by a spell of her mother’s that prevented her from leaving the castle before she was married

regina was not happy. she was miserable and at some point, she thought the only way out was dying. at least then she would be with daniel. but rumplestiltskin needed her to cast his curse, because she was apparently the only one capable of casting it ( i have a headcanon about why ) - maybe he genuinely cared about her well-being, but in my opinion, he only cared about himself and he didn’t want to wait another few centuries to find someone who could take him to the land without magic. so he did the only thing he could do ; strike a deal. regina wanted to know if living was worth it, so she asked him to swear that she would be happy in the future. he swore, and she agreed to not kill herself.

but that didn’t stop her from hating every minute of her life as the queen, as leopold’s wife and as snow white’s mother. and with snow white getting everything that she wanted, regina’s resentment only grew. eventually, when she saw a way out, she took it without hesitation. that way out was the genie and the death of the king.

DISSOCIATIVE IDENTITY DISORDER.

also known as multiple personality disorder. i have mentioned in previous posts that regina has a lot ( and i mean, a lot ) of layers. there are so many different aspects of her character and several different personalities where most are completely different to others. it could just be character development, but i have decided to go a different route. the below points are all experiences that come with dissociative identity disorder ( link )

DEPERSONALIZATION. this is a sense of being detached from one’s body and is often referred to as an “out-of-body” experience.

DEREALIZATION. this is the feeling that the world is not real or looking foggy or far away.

AMNESIA. this is the failure to recall significant personal information that is so extensive it cannot be blamed on ordinary forgetfulness. there can also be micro-amnesias where the discussion engaged in is not remembered, or the content of a meaningful conversation is forgotten from one second to the next.

IDENTITY CONFUSION or IDENTITY ALTERATION. both of these involve a sense of confusion about who a person is. an example of identity confusion is when a person has trouble defining the things that interest them in life, or their political or religious or social viewpoints, or their sexual orientation, or their professional ambitions. in addition to these apparent alterations, the person may experience distortions in time, place, and situation.

it first started when daniel died. depersonalization - an out of body experience, feeling detached from one’s body. she watched in horror as daniel’s heart was ripped out and then crushed in to dust. at first, she didn’t understand. it happened so fast but to regina, it happened in slow motion. then daniel fell and regina screamed, and she came too.

it happened frequently after that. in season one, “the stable boy”, at the end of the episode regina is being fitted for her dress. if you look at her, she looks completely out of it. as if she’s not really there. she’s not really paying attention to what snow white is telling her until she mentions telling cora about regina and daniel. something snaps in her then. we get the first glimpse of what will one day be the evil queen in that scene where she looks away from snow white, processes what was said, and then transforms on screen ( in the commentary, you can hear adam and eddy talk about it with lana, about how that’s how she gets in to character usually off-scene ) - when regina walks away, she is a completely different person. it doesn’t last long, but it is a glimpse.

it happened the most during her marriage to the king. she would disassociate herself with her surroundings. it was almost automatic, the way she would smile and the things she would say. no one paid her much attention beyond being a pretty thing on leopold’s arm, so it wasn’t out of the ordinary for her to stare of in to space, completely lost.

the amnesia aspect also comes in to play here, as well as at some points in time during her reign as the evil queen. but during her time in leopold’s bed, she would often lose track of time and after long enough, she started to black out what she would go through. she remembers the first few nights, but anything after that, she doesn’t recall.

as the evil queen, she found it difficult to remember faces and names, especially of those she victimised ( re. season three, “snow drifts” and “there’s not place like home” - she didn’t even remember having held marion as the evil queen, or when she met her again in the diner )

identity confusion and identity alteration come in to play with the evil queen. though i have not seen the episodes themselves, season six includes the evil queen as a separate entity to regina mills. to regina, the evil queen is someone else entirely, and not really a part of who she is. it is my opinion that the real regina lost sight of who she really was and what she believed in, and the evil queen was born. nurtured by both rumplestiltskin and her growing resentment of snow white, the evil queen came to life the moment leopold died. regina is a completely different person from before his death compared to after it. she’s not nearly as deranged as she is in later years, but that comes with time and isolation and addiction ( magic )…

magic absolutely is an addiction. once you learn it, you can’t let it go without serious consequences. it has always been my headcanon that if you were born with magic, you cannot survive without it. for example, rumplestiltskin and cora were both given magic. but regina, emma and zelena were born with it. despite canon information, it is my opinion that if cut off from their magic or if their magic is taken away from them, born magic-users would get very sick and could possibly die. it is a part of who they are. taking it away is as good as taking away their soul. it can be locked inside you, and once it is released it is near impossible to put back away.

it’s affect on you depends on how you use it, and with rumplestiltskin feeding the evil queen’s magic with his own influence, it heightened regina’s reliance on it.

during the curse, magic still existed in storybrooke, regina just did not have access to it. it was still there though, and it was enough to keep regina’s addiction sated.

after regina’s failed execution and the subsequent result ( her inability to directly hurt snow white ), regina’s desperation only grew stronger and so the queen’s delusion grew to match. regina does remember most of her actions as the evil queen, but some things she completely forgets until she sees it in her sleep and she wakes up screaming.

though she does originally feel like the evil queen is a completely different person, that does not mean that she denies responsibility for her. she knows what she’s done but she justifies it as, in a nutshell, karma.

when the curse is cast, regina is finally free of the enchanted forest, the crown and the queen. it’s easy to slip in to the role of mayor mills and completely ignore the monster that still resided under her skin. she put the evil queen aside, and didn’t think about her until the book came to be, henry started to pull away, and emma swan came to storybrooke.

this is where regina first started to dig her nails in to her palms again. it was the only way she could think of to control her more malicious instincts and she didn’t want to release the evil queen when she had other options to consider.

regina has a temper that she was both born with, and built on as the evil queen. she’d always been stubborn, and she had always been hot-headed, but in her youth she was very submissive, and so she bit her tongue. as the queen, she didn’t have to, so she took advantage of that. in storybrooke, she had to relearn how to control herself otherwise she would completely lose it.

** in my characterisation, my main storybrooke verse regina has not yet come to terms with the evil queen and has not accepted her as a part of herself. until she does that, the evil queen is another entity sharing regina’s body that she has difficulty controlling.

EXTRA INFORMATION. as mentioned in my rules, regina took an infertility potion not long after marrying the king, to ensure she did not fall pregnant with an unwanted baby. this is canon information for both main verse one and main verse two. regina does not like to talk about it and will become hostile if it is ever mentioned to her, the possibility of her ever having a biological child. in “regina’s rising”, cora mentions only wanting the best for regina, and then tells her that she will understand when she has her on children. regina then starts to think about it and decides that she would rather marry an older prince than have a child, because she is absolutely terrified about what kind of mother she would be. obviously, she overcomes that fear when she adopts henry. but there is still that inkling of insecurity and self-doubt when she takes henry back to the adoption agency and considers giving him up - not just because she learns he’s the savior’s son, but because she doesn’t think she has it in her to raise him right. later, henry’s continued insistence that she is nothing but evil and his manipulations of her dredge up all that insecurity and it hurts her deeply.

[the-nysh]

Opm dub: complete English OVA commentary (with links)

Oh man! I’ve been waiting for AGES to finally see these in English, ever since seeing the subs for them way back. My main incentive to compare how gay the translations are, and I can certainly say, I’ve not been disappointed! 8D

Below are my thoughts and impressions from each one, complete with links and a transcription of fun quotes I enjoyed! Have fun! 

OVA1: The Shadow that snuck up too close

Saitama, to himself: “Man, I gotta admit, stalkers really are scary. Come to think of it, lately I’ve been feeling eyes on me from somewhere too. … It’s no big deal if it’s just someone with a grudge. But… if that anger turned into some kind of warped love or twisted infatuation the way it did in that movie, then…how should I handle it?”  (Look at this, he’s ok being hated; he can handle physical confrontations, but emotional things like love and stuff frighten him! Ahh Saitama, just how will you deal with Genos’ type of attention?! 8D)

Genos: “Perhaps the secret to his power lies in his food. ... No normal person would dream of such behavior, therefore…”  (Genos pls, there’s nothing special in Saitama’s trip to the diner, his diet, or his choice in food; the egg is just poor! Genos simply cannot fathom these conditions otherwise. Grasping at straws, yet doesn’t understand the most simple explanation. Important to note, this demonstrates how he couldn’t put two-and-two together to purposely bribe Saitama later with rent money (offering rent is simply proper boarding manners instead) as he doesn’t understand how tight Saitama’s finances are. Plus, once Genos writes off this superfluous ‘food’ explanation for Saitama’s power, it also writes off the ‘Saitama eats monster parts for power’ fan theory too.)   

Saitama: “Thieving bastard! I’m so gonna catch you and kick your ass!” (GAWD I’m dying over these NERDS trying to out-stalk each other. XD)

Genos: “…DAMN! It IS just a french fry!” (overdramatic no indoor voice borg) “He has a normal diet; it is no different from an average person’s. I have not discovered a single thing. Is it possible that Master could be a cyborg like me? I have considered the data, just one thing left to do.”  (CONFRONT HIM IN PERSON MY GUY. Also, his hope that Saitama could be like him. :’3)

Saitama, to the so-called monster/‘thief’: “COME AT ME STRAIGHT!” (LOL, the dramatic irony here how they’re indirectly talking to/about each other)

Saitama’s internal monologue: “If I continue being a hero, I’m sure this won’t be last time someone’s out for revenge against me. That’s my fate; it can’t be avoided I guess. I just need to change how I think. Right! I need to think positively! I simply have to believe there’ll be people in this world who appreciate what I do. People who’ll know that I’m there to help. I became a hero 3 years ago. I’m not saying I need fans or anything, but it’d be nice if someone noticed all the things I’ve been doing around here. …Oh yeah! There was that one guy who wanted to be my disciple.” (He REMEMBERED Genos! Thinking of things positively from now on too, thank god! :’D)

Genos: “Investigation day 5. I have prepared myself for the worst. *deep breath* Sensei, sir!” Saitama: “You actually showed up.” (Gawd, Genos taking that huge pause, mentally preparing himself to confront Saitama directly. Including preparing his whole backstory speech at ready too. But man, he doesn’t want to screw this up or upset Saitama from all this. :’D) 

Summary: Man I love the dramatic irony in this ova. And how in the beginning, it was all dark in trepidation, with Saitama scared of a 'warped love, twisted infatuation' stalker, but in the end...he wants to think positively of what may come, and thinks of Genos :')))) (boy does he have a storm coming!)

OVA2: The Disciple who stinks at storytelling

The mafia guy…refers to the giraffe keychain as 'these babies' GAWD I’m already dying. “This little giraffe must mean a lot to you!” FFFFF!!! And HOW! 8D Genos: “Yes. It is extremely important.” BOIIII

THE BATH SCENE: full script I posted here. Gggnnghh, Saitama TRYING to get Genos to say how the water feels good: “How was it for you?” GAWD! Just trying to get Genos to relax (like in the drama cd), and Genos not quite understanding that and shifting the convo to a pitch singing match instead. Saitama’s “aww, c’mon really?” like with a fond, ‘oh man what am I gonna do with him’ smile, and then playing along anyway. :’))) Genos’ “that is the note for mi!” in english sounds so much like ‘me,’ like Saitama had delivered HIM the special note he requested! THESE DORKS!! 8’D Messing around together in a public bath house! (where that other old guy can totally witness their unabashed antics!)  

*Saitama noticing Genos staring and standing awkwardly close to him while naked on the massage chair* S: “Uhh…you can take off without me, you know. *gives keys* Wouldn’t want you to get a chill after your bath. But hey, don’t lose those, ok? These are crazy times we’re living in. Losing your keys will only lead to trouble.”   Saitama pls, Genos can’t catch a chill. XD But look at that, the egg worried for his safety/wellbeing anyway, as he gives him permission to leave ahead of him. ;D Seriously, those double-take side glances of his at Genos standing so expectantly next to his side! Like goodness, egg would like some space pls. XD But also, Genos takes Saitama’s key offering and instructions to protect it super seriously too. (he never changes the position of his arm while carrying it!)

*flash to present* G: “THAT is how important the key is to me.” Don: “Your stories are terrible. ‘Faah’-get about it! Nobody cares about any of this crap!” (lol, the audience does tho ;D) G: “Your ‘Fa’ should be higher; ‘Fa~’ see?” (HOLY SHIT what an ass! XD) Don: “Unghh!!” G: “In any case, the key is important and I would like it back now. Surely you have…one or two things that are important to you.” Don: “My Family means everything to me! I’d do just about anything for’ em!” G: “I see, then you understand how I would do anything for Master Saitama.” (!!!!!!!!!! The important, classic declaration line, delivered like this! :’D)  

*flashback* S: “So you decided to wait around after all? It’s so cold, too.” *sneezes* G: “Are you ok, Master?!” S: *shivers* “It’s freezing out. The chill’s gettin to me.” G: *glances at his head* S: “Uh – were you just checkin out my head?” G: “No! I would never.” GAAHH! It’s so gay!! I can’t handle this. :’D Like, OF COURSE Genos wouldn’t leave Saitama alone there! Previously Saitama was worried Genos might catch a chill, but HE catches one instead! And Genos showing his open concern for him! Glancing at his head like mentally correlating his baldness with greater heat loss too (get him a hat, Genos!) Saitama noticing that detail and using the flirty, ‘checkin out’ language, GAH! Plus Genos’ BLATANT LIES. FFFFF!!!

S: *imitating Genos* “DINNER TARGET AQUIRED~!” With that super quick facial change, and Genos staring at him the whole time! 8D

G: *extremely close death glare at the store employee* “It is only 2 seconds past the posted time. Will you please make an exception? You still have the merchandise!” *seething and clenching his fist* “The attitude of that employee. Have you any idea how I felt?! IT WAS WRONG!!” (absolute, no chill drama borg throwing an emotional fit here)

*Genos continues to ramble on, with the Don getting pissed and annoyed at him to get to the fucking point already* G: “Be patient. There is an order to the series of events in question.” (this was the ‘words come from the heart’ line from the fan translations) *comes to the conclusion that they’re complete strangers with zero connection* Don: “You mean you’ve been running your mouth since the moment we got here, just so you could tell me you’ve met him on the street today for the first time?!” G: “You did ask. There, I told you everything. Now give me back the keys as you promised you would.” Don: “SMARTASS PUNK!” (and later: “YOU FOOL! How stupid can someone possibly be!?”) Genos plsss… Like, it’s adorable how naïve and straight-laced he is, expecting proper honest procedure from typical law-abiding citizens…however, these mobster guys are anything but! (and yet he doesn’t even recognize or expect they’re criminals at first) And him simply rambling about his complete bath story with his sensei to complete strangers!! His enthusiasm and priorities, man! X’D

*flash to the REAL present* G: “And finally after all that, I was able to get the key back. But unfortunately, I missed the sale.” S: “Well…I had a spare key so in the end it was no big deal. But it sounds like you had a lot to contend with, didn’t cha?” G: “Master, I must apologize to you. I am too incompetent to run your errands!” S: “Nah~! It’s no big deal! We’ll just have a tofu hotpot tonight.” (he’s really warm here :3) G: “This will not make up for it…” S: “Hm?” G: “But here, *offers special bag* I went by another store.” S: “Huh? NO WAY! That’s some super expensive meat you brought home!” (he’s super happy!)

S: “Good thing we had some eggs, it’s sukiyaki time! Let’s dig in!” (the egg mentions eggs, heh) G: “RIGHT!” (HE is so happy now too!!)

Summary: So GOSH, this entire ova can be summed up with a ‘GENOS PLS’ and ‘these total gay, hopeless dorks!’ X’D Also, the end scene reveals Genos had told Saitama this entire convoluted story too, but UNLIKE the Don, Saitama patiently listens to the whole thing without complaint! Even warmly reassuring Genos’ distress that everything’s fine. :’3 And yep, Genos humbly offers him the expensive meat in apology (as the best alternative he could find, as in his fool mind, best=most expensive), and Saitama is so HAPPY to receive something he would never normally get! Both of them, enjoying a fancy hotpot together. :’D Bless <333   

OVA3: The overly complicated ninja (Sonic’s special)

Sonic’s epically horrible dream about getting punched in the dick by Saitama. Stranger: “Everything ok? I heard you moaning up there!” (WORD CHOICE, man! XD) “You kept calling out ‘Saitama…Saitama.’”

Sonic fukkin carves a detailed face of the egg into a tree… He’s eternally haunted by phantoms of an evil Saitama always ending their encounters by punching him in the dick!! c h r i s t ‘Why’ indeed! ‘Psychological trauma,’ as the old hunter says it is. :P

Sonic: “Fine then, I’ll admit it, Saitama. When I sensed your power, I was afraid!” Ahh, I like how he confronts his weakness. And is determined to overcome it! Training to control and accept his fear! 8D (and gaining a cute little boar friend for support~) Interesting of note to me, how he’s AFRAID of Saitama’s power. How many other people would be as well? When in contrast, people like Genos, would never be afraid of Saitama.

The hunter’s name…is revealed to be FRANK. Omg dub team, pls.

Sonic: “Hey, Hunter. If you’re defeated before you fight, the results will be the same, no matter how often you try.” And this is neat. How someone could be defeated mentally before even trying. :’) Much truth in these words.

Saitama *randomly pops out of nowhere* “Oh. A bear.” (HIS FACE I CAN’T!) Inadvertently saving the hunter while on the prowl, omg. Settling for the bear for dinner, as the baby boar ran away in fear recognizing his face from Sonic’s wood carvings. XD

*Together, at home* G: “So is this what you would call a ‘bear hotpot,’ Master?” S: “Yeah, you heard those rumors about the giant bear causing all that damage right? *snarfs a bite with blushing cheeks* YUM~” G: “You mean, you can really eat them?” S: “Sure, you can eat most any animal.” G: *takes out notes* “I see!” S: “Oh, a-and I hear wild boar is pretty good too.” G: “I LEARN SO MUCH FROM YOU, MASTER!” (omg, genos pls! this is becoming an ongoing gag line, to have him finish their convos with this level of enthusiasm! XD Also how wary he’d been eyeing the bear food, ahaha.)

OVA4: Bang, who is too overbearing (The excessively pushy Bang)

Bang: “Hm? Genos? Why are they together? Wait, come to think of it *recalls Genos yelling ‘Master!’ during the meteor* Could this be a teacher-student situation? But their rankings are Class S and Class C! So what’s going on?” (WHAT indeed! 8D Also, ‘situation’ changed from ‘relationship’ as in the fansubs)

*At the scene of the dead cabbage monster* S: “What should we have for dinner? I think we’ve got some cabbage left.” G: “Cabbage alone will not be enough. Shall I purchase some meat, Master?” S: “Ugh, what am I supposed to do with you, Genos? (OMG) Now listen! Don’t underestimate cabbage! Stir fried in yakiniku sauce goes great with rice.” G: “Ah! I see, so preparation is what truly dictates the results. Even a powerful weapon can be junk in the hands of the incompetent. Tell me; is that the lesson, Master?!” S: “Uh, I wouldn’t go that far.” G: “YOU TEACH ME SO MUCH, MASTER!” S: “Uaah, all your talk about meat made me wanna eat some! Great, way ta go, man.” Wah! This perspective has them inspired from the monster to eat their cabbage leftovers, rather than say, harvesting ingredients from the monster (no collecting monster parts here). :P Also omfg, but is this whole convo a callback to the second ova? About Genos purchasing meat again (Saitama like ‘oh no you won’t again!’) and indirectly calling himself incompetent (like junk?!) again!? (for failing against the meteor this time) Like GEEZ, the toaster is so hard on himself. :’) But, Saitama there telling him not to go that far. :’D And how casually/fondly Saitama speaks with him now (‘What am I supposed to do with you? Way ta go, man.’) Such good interactions!    

Bang, to himself: “Up close he appears to be nothing more than an ordinary guy. Genos looks superior in every way, yet Saitama is guiding him. In terms of Association ranking, Genos is placed much higher, but if Saitama’s mastered a fighting style that surpasses rankings, it’s a different story.” (hohoho, how this summarizes so much! That classic ONE disconnect between appearance, rank and expectations there too) S: “What’s with the weird old guy? He’s gone all quiet.” G: “He is eccentric. Many are like that in Class S.” (Pfft, like…yourself, Genos? ;D And goddammit! Indirectly rude to his face too! XD Well actually, BOTH these dorks are rude to him, hah. They just fukkin get up and leave him – after Saitama asks Genos if he’s ready to go, together.) Bang: “That must mean this Saitama is an all-around outstanding teacher.” (huehue)

Bang: “How ‘bout this, why not stop by my dojo sometime? Might be interesting, what do ya say?” S: “Uh…nah I-I’m good.” G: “Master Saitama is a very busy man.” Bang: “C’mon, don’t be like that. Here, this is the address for my dojo. I’ll be there all day tomorrow.” G: “Did you not hear what I said?! Master is–” S: “Allllright, old man. See ya tomorrow.” G: “Uh! MASTER!” (Heh, Genos trying to defend Saitama, and YET! The ‘yoink’ from Saitama totally surprising him. XD Overprotective toaster, man.)

*later* G: “I thought for certain you were going to stop by the dojo.” S: “Well uh, I’ve learned old dudes like that can be persistent. Humoring them then blowing ‘em off is the only way to avoid big headaches.”   Bang: “...He’s so very vulnerable and inexperienced.” *Saitama immediately dives in front of a truck* G: *gawking shock* “!!!! MASTER!!” S: “Thought it was a cat, but it was just a stupid plastic bag. And now all that delicious meat we bought has been run over by a truck and ruined.” OH MANNN!! Although I do prefer the prolonged yell of ‘SENSEIIIII~!!’ in Japanese, Genos is STILL stunned into overprotective shock for Saitama’s safety here. PLS, he JUST witnessed Saitama punch out a meteor! And YET he cannot help this protective instinct when the person he cares about appears *in danger*! XD Does Saitama’s normally ‘soft’ egg face make him appear ‘vulnerable’ to him too, as it does for Bang?!  

Bang: (internally: “This changes all of my mental simulations.”) “You two look like you’re in need of some nourishment!” (OMG, this word choice! XD) S: *audibly scoffs* Bang: “Back at my dojo, I have some premium meat that the Martial Arts Association sent over.” (ooh they mentioned this detail here) S: “Ah! What a coincidence! I happen to have a bottle of yakiniku sauce! Where is your dojo?” (ahaha his projected heroic voice!)

Saitama, behind Bang’s introductions: “Ughh, this is such a pain in the ass…” Omg, him audibly complaining and annoyed already, he just wants the meat and to go home!

G: *finished clattering on phone* “Master, I will do it.” S: “You understand all the rules?” G: “I do. The explanation took too long, so I just looked them up.” Genos pls, you’re one to talk!! YOUR explanations take forever too! XD GAWD, these dorks I swear.

S: “All right then! The next hit wins, come get some!!” Omg, Saitama’s so into the game. XD Spirited, competitive and totally a sore loser about it too, buahaha!

Bang: “Maybe now you understand that you’ve had a match. Especially you, Saitama. Before you knew it, you enjoyed taking part in the competition. Otherwise you wouldn’t have gotten so serious. … Martial arts are appealing in this way, a way that you can never get from fighting and physical combat.” G: *with arms raised in the same attentive position as Charanko’s* “He has a point; Master was getting serious.” Ohoho, Genos is super interested the moment Bang says the game enticed Saitama to get serious. Interested in whatever can do THAT to his sensei!

Charanko calls him Bang-sensei! 8D (and not ‘Master’ like Genos)

S: “Whatever, let’s go one more round and finish this! I’m STARVING!” (HAH, Saitama pls!) G: “Master, shall I play you next?” (whoa, there!) S: “Uh-what? Why?” OMG Genos pls. X’D Heh, probably because he wants to challenge and see Saitama get serious against him this time. Like a sparring match of a different kind! ;D

Summary: AHHHHH, gosh!! Pretty much the whole ova was absolute gold, with plenty of prime interactions! (I had to refrain from transcribing every conversation XD) What a riot and so much fun!

OVA5: The sisters with too much going on

LILY!!! And FUBUKI!!! 8D Their voices! Ahhhh <3 ‘Gentle tomboyish’ is how I can best describe Lily’s voice. :P Also notably, the group calls Fubuki, ‘Miss Blizzard.’

Genos, internally: *introduces all the formal info for Fubuki* “But why is she…? Allergies, maybe?” (GENOS PLS, she is crying you fool!) THE LINE: “They are crabs. Crabs for my Master!” (EXACTLY LIKE IN THE SUBS I’M CRYING) Fubuki, internally: ??? “Uuhh, Isn’t this guy from Class S?” (She is horribly confused for their first ever line spoken together! XD Doesn’t even KNOW who his ‘Master’ is too!)

Genos, immediately with no chill or indoor voice: “EVERYONE, EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY! I have been informed there is a bomb on this train! PLEASE HEAD TOWARDS THE EXITS, TIME IS- *suddenly realizes* DAMMIT, they cannot! There is no way for them to escape!” (THIS FOOOOL I CAN’T HANDLE HIM HOLY SHIT X’D)

Genos, to Fubuki: “What is it? You cannot handle it without your underlings?” (HOLY SHIT THIS ASSHOLE xD He doesn’t approve of her style of heroics with rookie crushing, and doesn’t hide the disdain in his voice at all!) Fubuki: “No, I just don’t appreciate being ordered around, ok!?” (Heh, their interactions are off to a great start. :P)

The little Class C hero girl! Swim-chan, ahhh! Blushing in Fubkui’s presence. ;D Fubuki: “Shut up and get it together! All that whining’s not gonna change anything! Calm down and prepare yourself.”   :’)))) Fubuki, doubly hard on herself while she lectures the girl (girl still blushing getting ordered around, heh). Speaking from experience and her OWN issues with inadequacy compared to her sister. Ahhh, my girl. <3  

Genos, with extreme strained grunting holding the front of the ramming train: “YES!” (LOL, does this remind you of anything? ;D) Tatsumaki: “Outta the way~!”

Waaah, Fubuki responds to her sister’s quip, ‘why didn’t you just get off of that thing?’ with a ‘none of your business, is it?’ :’)))) Fubuki still has her PRIDE and sense of duty, man!! Aughh! She’s so upset her sister smothered her attempt to shine all over again! Can really feel sentimental for her. <3

Swim-chan comes to personally thank and express her gratitude to Fubuki for saving her. :’) Expressing her ongoing doubts of even continuing to be a hero (Fubuki can totally relate, always being in her sister’s shadow), but has gained renewed inspiration and strength from Fubuki today! :’DD Ahhh, so good! Both of them, uplifting each other to never give up!  

*Naked, at the LAB* Genos: “Dr. Kuseno. Beyond strength, speed, range. I now know there is another type of power I lack.” Kuseno: “Well this is quite sudden. What is it?” Genos: *intense close up* “SUPERNATURAL.” Kuseno: *turns away* “I’m sorry to say my technology can’t help you with something like that.” Genos: *visibly distraught and pouting* Kuseno: “Must’ve been quite the formidable enemy you were fighting. Tell me, what happened?” Genos: *sulking* “…I utterly failed at shopping! *walks away* If only I possessed supernatural powers, the crabs would not have exploded as they did!” Kuseno: “The poor boy must be tired~” - Saitama, waiting for Genos to come home for dinner: “Sure taking his time, what gives?”

UAHHH!!! This boy I swear!! X’D And poor Kuseno too, totally used to this ‘poor boy’ always running with no chill (and his ridiculous requests). :’D Genos pls….Saitama has all the chill, patiently waiting for you to just come home!

OVA 6: The murder case that was too impossible (The far too impossible case of murder)

Immediately, Child Emperor’s voice, and soon enough, Lightspeed Flash’s voice too! “The answer to that is none of your business.” He sounds…posh and manly, heh. Meanwhile, Saitama and Genos are sitting side by side together in the water, minding their own business. :P

Zombieman’s voice?! It’s kinda…higher than expected. :O Like a young, nasally goody guy? Tank Top Master’s voice too…pretty deep.

PPP: “What a waste of a beautiful boy!!” (omg lol, plus the actor does his lines well btw)

Genos, literally fighting with a child to defend Saitama’s honor: “Hold on. Are you implying that Master Saitama is a suspect?” Child Emperor: *to Saitama* “Well, maybe not with that face.” (OMG no!!! X’D) Genos: “Listen to me! Even if My Master wanted to destroy Zombieman, he would not need weapons, a single punch would– *realizes, internally* Wait a second, if Master wanted to test the validity of Zombieman’s immortality, he might have used a weapon to go easy on him. Unfortunately, that would make sense.” Saitama: *notices Genos staring at him* “Hm?” Genos: *secretly to him* “Easy, Master. Do not worry. I will defend you at your trial.” Saitama: “I! DID NOT! DO IT!” (HOOOOO, it’s the ‘perjury for my sensei’ line! Classic. X’D)

King’s voice!! It’s like, deep and oily? Very ahh, distinct. Totally would not expect considering how his real character is like. Also his ‘King Engine’ here is a literal drum beat! (and not a heartbeat like how it is in the main anime eps)

Tatsumaki: “I know Zombieman doesn’t die when he gets killed!” (HAAAH referencing the ‘people die when they are killed’ meme, I can’t believe this XD) Zombieman: “Honestly it doesn’t bother me. This stuff happens all the time when you drink.” (HE’S SO CHILL OMG WTF. Treating getting stabbed like casual everyday shenanigans. :P) Everyone: “WHAT?!” Saitama: “Nuh-uh. Not at all.” (dude, exactly XD)

*Saitama and Genos, walking home in the sunset together* Saitama: “It was her, huh? The little brat caused all that trouble. You know, you gotta wonder why she’d do something so crazy.” Genos, internally: “…Unfortunately, that is likely your fault, Master.” *flashback* Tatsumaki: *offering Genos her drink* “I’m done~ Here. I just don’t like drinking, it tastes gross.” Saitama: *takes it away from Genos, scolding* “Of course you don’t like doing that! You’re still just a little kid! Stop trying to act so much like an adult, alright? You shouldn’t be drinking to begin with. Little kids should just have orange juice or something!” Tatsumaki: “WHAT!? Listen you–” Saitama: “I’ll go order one for you right now.” Genos, current time, internally: “Tornado’s pride got hurt, so in an act of retaliation, she forced herself to drink more, despite its flavor.” Saitama, beaming: “I gotta say, Genos! That hot spring sure felt great, didn’t it?!” Genos: “YES, MASTER!”

Ahaha! X’D Saitama can only view Tatsumaki as a child! And Genos, withholding such details from Saitama, while making sense of the whole fiasco for the audience. In any case, it’s great to see both our dorks HAPPY, side by side together. :’D 

Overall, VERY enjoyable and especially so to see how faithful the dub team kept to their characters, never holding back on the gay at all, either! ;D (what a blessing!) Recommended for anyone to see the ovas again, in this fresh, alternative perspective!  (special thanks to @dolltrash-etc for providing me with the links to study these, and showing me bits of her limited dvd release booklet! <333)